In Death 14 - Reunion in Death

elemental meanness, the stink of violence that permeated the air as thickly as the stench of garbage and shit.
    And some simply got lost there.
    Eve left her jacket in the car. She wanted her weapon in full view. Her clutch piece was strapped to her ankle, and she'd shoved a combat knife into her boot.
    "Here." She tossed Peabody a small shock bat. "Know how to use it?"
    She had to gulp once, but nodded. "Yes, sir."
    "Hook it to your belt, keep it in plain sight. You kept up with your hand-to-hand?"
    "Yeah." She blew out a breath. "I can handle myself."
    "That's right." Eve not only wanted her to say it, she wanted her to believe it. "And when you step down there, you remember you're one bad bitch cop, and you drink blood for breakfast."
    "I'm one bad bitch cop, and I drink blood for breakfast. Yuck."
    "Let's go."
    They headed down filthy steps and veered off from the subway entrance into the rat hole of a tunnel that led to the underground. Lights glowed dull red and dirty blue in a kind of snarling carnival of sex, games, and entertainment suited for the cold and the cruel.
    Eve caught the stink of vomit and glanced over to see a man down on his hands and knees, puking horribly.
    "You okay?"
    He didn't look up. "Fuck you."
    Feeling other eyes on her, she squeezed into the passageway behind him, then gave him a solid shove with her boot that sent him facedown in his own vomit. "Oh no," she said pleasantly, "fuck you."
    Her knife was out of her boot with its honed point at his filthy throat before he could curse her again. "I'm a cop, asshole, but don't think I won't slice your useless throat ear-to-ear just for the fun of it. Where can I find Mook today?"
    His eyes were fire-red, his breath amazing. "I don't know no mother-fucking Mook."
    She risked all manner of vermin, fisted a hand in his stringy hair, and yanked his head back. "Everybody knows mother-fucking Mook. You want to die here, or live to puke another day?"
    "I don't keep tabs on the cocksucker." His lips peeled back as the point of the knife pressed against his jugular. "Maybe VR Hell, fuck do I know?"
    "Good. Go right on back to what you were doing." She released him with just enough force to send him sliding into the muck again, then made a show of slapping the jagged-edged knife back in her boot for the benefit of the onlookers lurking in the shadows.
    "Anybody here wants trouble, I'm happy to oblige." She lifted her voice just enough to have it echo, to have it punch through the mean flood of viper rock pumping out of doorways. "Otherwise my business is with Mook, who's been described by this fine example of humanity as a mother-fucking cocksucker."
    There was a slight movement, shadow in shadow, to her left. She laid her hand on her weapon, and the movement stilled. "Anybody hassles me or my uniform, we start busting asses, and we aren't particularly delicate about how many of those busted asses end up in the city morgue, are we, Officer?"
    "No, sir, Lieutenant." Peabody prayed her voice wouldn't crack and embarrass both of them. "In fact, we're hoping to win the pool on morgue count this week."
    "What's that up to, anyway?"
    "Two hundred and thirty-five dollars. And sixty cents."
    "Not too shabby." Eve cocked a hip, but her eyes were keen as a blade. "Could use it. When we're finished kicking the shit out of anybody who gives us grief," Eve added pleasantly. "There'll be a squad down here shaking down what's left. Which will really irritate me as I'd have to share the pool with them. Mook," she said again, and waited ten humming seconds.
    "VR Hell," someone said in the dark. "Dancing with the S M machines. Asshole."
    Eve merely nodded, deciding to attribute the asshole comment to Mook rather than herself. "And where do I find VR Hell in this delightful and intriguing paradise many of you call home?"
    There was another movement, and she whirled, braced, felt Peabody go on full alert beside her. At first she took him for a boy, then saw he was a dwarf. He was crooking his finger.
    "Back-to-back," Eve ordered, and they started down one of the dripping tunnels, facing out, guarding each other's backs.
    The dwarf moved fast, skittering along in the steaming, stinking tunnels like a cockroach on shoes that flapped against the damp stone floor. He zipped past the bars, the clubs, the joints and dives, twisting and turning through the labyrinth of the underworld.
    "Morgue pool was a nice touch," Eve said under her breath.
    "Thanks." Peabody resisted