“We work the body and the scene exactly as we’d work any body and scene, and that’s why we’re going to give some weight to homicide. Regardless, it’s a suspicious, unattended death, and in my department we don’t brush that off because the vic is a loser chemi-head with a sheet.”
“Damn straight. I was nervous with the commander.”
“He came at you hard because IAB’s going to come hard, and when we take her down, the defense is going to come hard.”
“I got that, too.” Peabody fiddled with her rainbow sunshades but didn’t put them on. “And I got that there’s going to be other cops who look at me like a traitor.”
“She’s the traitor, Peabody.”
“I know. But I have to be ready for it. So whenever it comes at me, I’m going to see myself in that shower stall, and I’m going to think, ‘Fuck you.’”
“It’s a good thought. Time to set up the next step.” She used her pocket ’link to contact Webster.
“Well, good morning, Dallas.”
While his attractive face filled the screen she heard the sounds of traffic. “Where are you?”
“Walking to work on this fine summer day. Why?”
“Got company?”
“A few million New Yorkers.” He sipped from a go-cup of coffee, but she saw his eyes change. Flatten. “No company.”
“I need a meet. Remember where we met during a little federal matter?”
“I remember.”
“There. In two hours. You’ll need to take this as personal time.”
“I’ve got a boss, Dallas.”
“So does he, and so does his boss. This comes from the big chair, Webster. If you don’t want it, I’ll tag another rat.”
“Funny. Two hours.” He clicked off.
“Tag Crack,” Eve ordered Peabody. “Tell him I need him to have his place open in a couple hours.”
“You want me to tag a giant sex club owner at this hour of the morning, knowing I’ll be waking him up?”
“Find your spine, Peabody,” Eve suggested.
The neighborhood looked worse in the daylight, Eve decided, when every stain, every smear showed in sharp relief. A sad little convenience store sagged near the corner, papered with warnings.
NO CASH ON PREMISES!
MONITORED BY ON GUARD!
DROID OPERATORS ONLY!
A handful of people moved along the sidewalk, heads down, going about their business while it was too early for most thugs and toughs and troublemakers to hassle them.
“It’s a hard life here,” Peabody commented. “A couple blocks away, it’s different, but here it’s hard and mean. If you’re born here, how do you get out?”
Eve thought of Roarke, a child, navigating the violent Dublin alley-ways where hard and mean would have been a holiday. “Hook or crook,” she murmured.
After parking, engaging all alarms and her On Duty light, Eve got her field kit out of the trunk. “Curtain up. Record on. Let’s seal up.” She tossed Peabody the can of Seal-It. “In case this turns out to be something other than a waste of time.”
Peabody obeyed, tossed the can back. “We could’ve had some uniforms check it out.”