“Smelled the body.”
“You gotta figure,” Peabody agreed. “So he’s about to pick up the pup, and he sees the body. Called it in, and stayed back on the sidewalk until the cops responded. He says he didn’t know Pettigrew or Horowitz, or not much. To wave at or nod at if he walked by.
“Meanwhile,” she continued, “Officer Markey picked up another wit on the knock-on-doors that said she’s pretty sure she saw Pettigrew getting in a car with a woman about nine.”
“A redhead?”
“No. She says short hair, brown or maybe blond, tipped with a darker color. Blue or purple or maybe black.” Peabody gave a shrug, knowing, as Eve did, some wits didn’t register or retain. “It was dark, and she wasn’t really looking.”
“But she saw Pettigrew and a female?”
“She’s not sure—not a hundred percent—it was Pettigrew because when she glanced out he was already half in the car, but the car—black, maybe dark blue, maybe dark gray—was right in front of his house.”
“We’ll talk to her. Or you go talk to her now, see if you can work more out of her than Markey. I’ll contact the cohab.”
“Can do.”
“He’ll have a home office. Since you’re here,” Eve said to Roarke, “you can help go through it. Maybe he has secrets locked away like McEnroy.”
“I do enjoy looking for secrets.”
Eve sat, and for the second time in two days, woke a woman with very bad news.
“Um, what? Hello?”
“Marcella Horowitz?”
“Yeah, what? Who is this?”
“Ms. Horowitz, this is Lieutenant Dallas, with the NYPSD. Can you give me your location?”
“Is this a joke? I’m in bed, whaddaya think? It’s like, what, six in the freaking morning. Who is this, really? I’m going to report you to the management.”
“Ms. Horowitz.” Eve held her badge up to the screen. Marcella had blocked the video on her end, but she’d see the ID perfectly. “I regret to inform you Thaddeus Pettigrew is dead. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say. Unblock video.”
Eve watched a woman with masses of blond hair rip off a sleep mask, glower at her.
“Listen, you—”
“Ms. Horowitz.” Eve held up her badge again. “I’m in the residence you shared with Mr. Pettigrew. I am the primary investigator in this matter. I’ve officially identified Mr. Pettigrew’s body. Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I don’t believe you!”
But she did, Eve thought, she could see it in the shocked eyes as the woman, dressed in a silky red sleep shirt, tossed covers aside, leaped out of bed. The image on-screen bounced as she sprinted out of the bedroom, calling for lights, calling for her mother.
“Good God, Marci!” A woman in pink pajamas shoved up in bed. “What in the world—”
“She says she’s the police. She says Thad’s dead. Mom!”
“Give me that ’link! Who is this?”
“Ma’am, this is Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD. I’m sorry to inform you Mr. Pettigrew was killed in the early hours of this morning.”
“It’s a lie, Mom!”
“Hush now, sweetheart. You go wake up your sister and Claudia. Go on now.”