“Wait once. I can keep this running, transfer to my pocket piece, and keep an eye on her. You want the eyes and ears?”
“Shouldn’t need them. Ready?”
“Set,” she said.
Peabody muttered, “Go,” as they got out of different doors.
They moved fast, not at a run, but a quick New York walk down the sidewalk to the building entrance. Eve mastered it open, gave her detectives the signal, then went in.
She gestured up a set of narrow stairs. “You knock, say somebody gave you her name about tailoring.”
“What do I want tailored?”
“Oooh, a wedding dress! Say a wedding dress,” Peabody urged.
“Frosty. I can play that.”
“She starts to open the door, step back.”
“I’m a real cop, you know.”
“You’re a real cop, and you’re coming in behind us. Draw your weapon, and keep your hands out of view.”
Eve judged the doors they passed. A couple solid kicks, she estimated. If Smith didn’t open, they’d take the door down, and her with it.
“Where is she?” Eve kept her voice low as they approached the apartment.
“Same spot.”
“Peabody, take the other side of the door. Santiago?”
“Got the door and the stairs.”
“Officer Carmichael?”
“On the back, Lieutenant.”
“Stand by.” She nodded to Callendar.
Callendar put on a happy face, stepped up, weapon held low, and buzzed.
A staticky intercom clicked on. “Yes?”
“Hey! I’m Debby! A friend of mine gave me your name. It’s about my wedding. She said you’re really, really good, and my mom really wants me to wear her dress, so it has to be altered before the big day.”
“Sorry? What?”
“In May. The wedding’s in May. I’ve got a picture. Can I show you?”
“Hold on.”
A chain rattled. Callendar stepped back.
“Door’s opening,” Eve murmured into her comm.
When the lock clicked and the door creaked open a crack, she shoved through, had the woman spun around against the wall.
“Oh my God, oh my God, take whatever you want!”