In Death 11 - Judgment in Death

the first time Ricker's suspected of arranging a cop killing. But he's generally more subtle."
    "There was something personal in this, Commander. Whether for the badge or for Kohli, I don't know. But it was very personal. Roarke owned the club," she added.
    "Yes, so I've heard." He turned back, skimmed his gaze over her face, and walked to his desk. "Personal all around, Lieutenant?"
    "It will be easier and quicker to obtain data on the club and on its staff and clientele. The manager's already come in voluntarily for interview. The fact that Kohli concealed his attachment to the NYPSD makes me wonder if he was on the job -- on his own. He deliberately misrepresented himself and went so far as to arrange a cover. There's no indication he was working in soft clothes for the department, so it would have been unofficial."
    "I have no knowledge of any investigation, official or otherwise, that required Detective Kohli to go under in Purgatory. But I will pursue that matter with Captain Roth." He held up a hand before Eve could object. "It'll be smoother if that particular inquiry comes from this office rather than from you, Dallas. Let's keep it smooth."
    "Yes, sir." But it grated. "I want a warrant to open Kohli's financials. They're jointly held with his widow. At this time, I prefer not to request permission from Mrs. Kohli."
    "Or alert her before they're open," he finished. He spread his hands on the desk. "You think he was taking?"
    "I'd like to eliminate that angle, sir."
    "Do it," he ordered. "And do it quietly. I'll get your warrant. You get me a cop killer."
    Eve spent the rest of the day poring over Kohli's record, familiarizing herself with his case load, trying to get a handle on the man. The cop.
    What she saw was an average officer who'd performed steadily, if slightly under his potential. He'd rarely missed a shift and just as rarely put in any overtime.
    He'd never used his weapon for maximum force and therefore had never undergone extensive Testing. Still, he'd closed or been in on the closing of a good number of cases, and his reports on those closed and those open were efficient, carefully written, and thorough.
    This was a man, Eve thought, who followed the book, did the job, then went home at night and put his day away.
    How? she wondered. How the hell did anyone manage that?
    His military record was similar. No trouble, no glow. He enlisted at the age of twenty-two, served six steady years, the last two in the military police.
    Every t was crossed, every i dotted. It was, to her mind, a perfectly ordinary life. Almost too perfect.
    The call to Nester Vine from Purgatory got her as far as his harassed-looking wife, who informed Eve that Vine had come home before the end of his shift the night before, dog-sick. She herself had just gotten in from the hospital where she'd taken her husband at three that morning for what turned out to be appendicitis.
    As alibis went, it was a beaut. The only tip she pried out of Mrs. Vine was that she should get in touch with some stripper named Nancie, who'd apparently stuck around after Kohli had urged Vine to go home.
    Still, she contacted the hospital and verified one Nester Vine had indeed had his appendix removed, in emergency, early that morning.
    Scratch Nester, she thought, and put the stripper on her talk-to list.
    Calls to Lieutenant Mills and Detective Martinez went unreturned. In the field and unavailable was the response. She left one last message for each, gathered the files, and prepared to go home.
    She'd take a hard look at Kohli's financials that evening.
    She caught Peabody in her cubicle in the bullpen dealing with the follow-up paperwork.
    "Leave the rest of that until tomorrow. Go home."
    "Yeah?" Peabody's face lit up as she glanced at her wrist unit. "Almost on time, too. I've got an eight o'clock dinner with Charles. Now I'll have just enough time to go snazz myself up."
    When Eve's response was a grunt, Peabody grinned. "You know the problem with juggling two guys?"
    "Do you consider McNab a guy?"
    "On a good day, he's a nice contrast to Charles. Anyway, you know the problem with seeing both of them?"
    "No, Peabody, what's the problem with seeing both of them?"
    "There isn't one."
    With a hoot of laughter, Peabody grabbed her bag and shot out of her cubicle. "See you tomorrow."
    Eve shook her head. One guy, she decided, was plenty problem enough for her taste. And if she got the hell out of Central, she might even beat him home for a