In Death 06 - Vengeance in Death

restaurant with apartments above -- single-family units, a hundred percent occupancy. The other is a small hotel with a public bar, projected to be refurbished."
    "Name?"
    "The West Side."
    "Peabody?" Eve cut over to Seventh and headed downtown. She nipped through a red light and ignored the blast of horns and pedestrian curses. "Peabody?" she repeated.
    "Working on it. Here. The West Side -- that's 522 West Forty-third. Approved for on-site alcohol consumption, private smoking booths. Attached hotel licensed companion approved. Former owner, J. P. Felix, arrested January 2058. Violation of Codes 752, 821. Operating live sex acts without a license. Operating gambling establishment without a license. Property confiscated by City of New York and auctioned September 2058. Purchased by Roarke Industries, and currently up to code."
    "Five twenty-two," Eve muttered as she winged onto Forty-third. "Do you know the setup here, Roarke?"
    "No." In his mind he could see Jennie as he'd once known her. Pretty and bright and laughing. "One of my acquisitions staff viewed and bid on the property. I've only seen the paperwork."
    He looked out the window as a young boy set up a three-card monte game while his adolescent partner scanned for cops and nuisance droids. He hoped they made a killing.
    "I have one of my architects working up a plan for remodeling," he continued. "I haven't seen them either."
    "Doesn't matter." Eve jerked the car to a stop, double parking in front of 522. She flipped on the NYPSD blinker, which helped her chances of finding her vehicle in one piece when she came back. "We'll check at the front desk, see what the clerk can tell us."
    She bypassed the bar, noted grimly that the security plate on the hotel door was broken. The lobby was dim, with a single pathetic plant going from green to sickly yellow in the corner. The thick safety glass that caged in the desk was scratched and pitted. The access door was wide open. The droid on duty was out of operation.
    It was easy to see why, as its body was slumped in a chair and its head sat on the counter.
    "Goddamn it. He's been here. Maybe he's still here." She pulled out her weapon. "We take a floor at a time, knock on doors. Anybody doesn't answer, we go in."
    Roarke opened a drawer under the droid's head. "Master code." He held up the thin card. "It'll make it easier."
    "Good. Use the stairs."
    Nearly every room on the first floor was empty. They found one groggy-eyed LC sleeping off a long night. She'd heard and seen nothing, and made her displeasure at being roused by cops obvious. On the second floor they found the remnants of a wild party, including a fistful of illegals scattered over the floor like abandoned toys.
    On the graffiti-strewn stairway heading toward three, they found the child.
    He was perhaps eight, thin and pale, with his toes poking out of his ragged sneakers. There was a fresh bruise under his right eye, and a scruffy gray kitten in his lap.
    "Are you Dallas?" he wanted to know.
    "Yeah. Why?"
    "The man said I should wait for you. He gave me a two-dollar credit to wait."
    Her heart picked up rhythm as she crouched down. The aroma there told her the kid hadn't seen bathwater in a number of days. "What man?"
    "The guy who told me to wait. He said how you'd give me another two if I did, and I told you the thing."
    "What thing?"
    His eyes scanned her face slyly. "He said how you'd give me another two."
    "Sure, okay." Eve dug in her pocket, made certain to keep her tone light, her smile easy. "So, what's the thing?" she asked as the boy took the credit and fisted it in his grubby hand.
    "He said..." the boy closed his eyes and recited, " 'It's the third but not the last. You're quick but not too fast. No matter how much flash, no matter how much cash, no bastard son of Eire can ever escape his past. Amen.' " He opened his eyes and grinned. "I got it right, told him I would."
    "Good for you. You stay right here and I'll give you another two. Peabody." She waited until they'd reached the landing. "Take care of the kid. Call Child Protection Services, then see if you can get any kind of description out of him. Roarke, you're with me. Third victim, third floor," she said to herself. "Third door."
    She turned to the left, weapon raised, and knocked hard. "There's music." She cocked her head to try to catch the tune.
    "It's a jig. A dance tune. Jennie liked to dance. She's in there."
    Before he could move forward, Eve threw up an arm to block him.