In Death 14 - Reunion in Death

of the system. "About twelve, thirteen years, I guess."
    "Long time. You forget to notice stuff."
    "Uh-huh." Eve kept eating, but her attention was on a clutch of tourists and the slick-looking airskater who dogged them. He made the snatch clean, dipping skilled fingers into two back pockets without breaking rhythm. The wallets vanished as he did a fancy turn and veered away.
    Eve merely shot out her leg, catching his shins and sending him into a short but graceful swan dive. When he rolled, she pressed a booted foot to his throat. She munched on her sandwich until his vision cleared, then waved her badge in front of him and jerked a thumb at the uniformed Peabody.
    "You know, ace, I can't figure if you're stupid or cocky, lifting wallets with a couple of cops in the audience. Peabody, you want to confiscate the contents of this moron's pockets?"
    "Yes, sir." She hustled up, went through the half-dozen pockets and slits in the baggy trousers, the three in the loose shirt, and came up with ten wallets.
    "The two you got out of the right knee slit belong to them." She gestured toward the happily unaware tourists who were taking holo-shots of each other. "Brown-haired guy with sunshades, blonde guy with the Strikers ballcap. Why don't you save them some shock and dismay and return them before you call in a beat cop to deal with the rest."
    "Yes, sir. Lieutenant, I never saw the move."
    Eve licked sauce off her fingers. "We all notice different kinds of stuff, Peabody."
    As her aide rushed off, the street thief decided to try his luck. But as he started to scramble up, Eve bore down, closing off his windpipe for ten warning seconds. "Ah, ah, ah." She wagged a finger at him and polished off her tube of Pepsi.
    "Cut me a break, why doncha?"
    "What, like go and sin no more? I look like a priest to you?"
    "Goddamn cop."
    "That's right." She heard the amazed tourists take back their property with babbling thanks. "I'm a goddamn cop. Nice day, isn't it?"
    ...
    "I'll drive back," Eve said when that little bit of lunch-time business was finished. "I'd like to get to Central before my retirement kicks in." She read her wrist unit. "And you're going to have to get moving if you're going to pick up Maureen Stibbs and bring her in for Interview."
    "I thought I'd put that off a day or two."
    Eve glanced over as she slid behind the wheel. "You said you were ready."
    "I am. But, well... You're really busy right now, and not a hundred percent yet. I need you to observe in case I run into trouble. It can wait until you're up for it."
    "I'm up for it today, so don't use me as an excuse."
    Peabody's stomach jittered. "If you're sure."
    "You're the one who has to be sure. If you are, tag Trueheart. Two uniforms are more intimidating than one on a pickup. Fill him in, and have him go with you, then have him stand post inside the door in the interview room. He should say as little as possible, and look grim. As much as Trueheart can look grim. Snag a black-and-white for transpo. Use my authorization."
    "Should I drive or should he?"
    "Let him. Tell him he should give her the occasional blank stare in the rearview. You do all the talking. Try to keep her from lawyering up too fast. You've just got a few questions, need to clear a few things up. You know she wants to cooperate as she was the victim's friend, and this procedure may bring her husband some closure. Blah, blah. Get her in, then start playing her."
    "I just need one favor. If I start to lose her, if I start to go wrong, will you step in?"
    "Peabody-"
    "I'd just feel better about it, more confident, if I knew I had a net."
    "Okay. You take a tumble, I'll catch you."
    "Thanks." Peabody took out her communicator to signal Trueheart and fill him in on the assignment.
    ...
    Eve went straight into a 'link conference with the primary in charge of the Denver homicide. Detective Green was seasoned and irritable.
    Eve liked him immediately.
    "Got a shit load of latents off the rooms. Coupla housekeepers, maintenance guy who dinked with the entertainment system after a complaint from the last tenants. Last tenants ID'd as Joshua and Rena Hathaway out of Cincinnati. Had the rooms for three days, checking out the day our girl checked in. They're clean. Got the vic's-just in the living area on him-coffee table, knife and fork, cup and saucer, juice glass. And we got Julianna Dunne's every-fucking-where."
    He paused, slurped some coffee. "Got her visually ID'd from hotel discs, from the bellman