In Death 16 - Portrait in Death

Ernestine mentioned that you give her a nice discount."
     
     
"We do what we can," he said cheerfully. "Nice, elderly lady. Keeps her slot year round. Gotta give her a break, you know."
     
     
"And she only uses it five times a month."
     
     
"Like clockwork."
     
     
"Tell me, Billy, how much do you make, any average month, renting out vehicles."
     
     
He stopped by a small gray van. "What's that?"
     
     
"Somebody needs a ride, they drop in and see Billy, and he fixes them up. You get the codes, pocket the fee, vehicle comes back, you put it in its slot. Owner's none the wiser, and a nice sideline for you."
     
     
"You've got no proof of something like that."
     
     
Eve leaned on the van. "You know, as soon as somebody tells me I've got no proof, it just makes me want to dig down and get it. I'm just that perverse."
     
     
He pokered up. "This van stays in this slot except on Sundays and every third Wednesday. I park and I fetch, and that's all I do."
     
     
"You're independently wealthy then, and provide this service to the community out of a spirit of altruism and benevolence. Nice boots, Bill."
     
     
"Man likes nice shoes, it's no crime."
     
     
"Uh-huh. I'm going to run tests on this van. If I find this van was used in the case I'm investigating, your ass is in a sling. It's homicide, Billy. I got two bodies so far. I'll be taking you into Interview and holding you as an accessory."
     
     
"Murder? Are you crazy?" He took a stumbling step back, and Eve shifted to the balls of her feet in case he decided to run.
     
     
"Peabody," she said mildly, catching her aide's movement to box Billy in. "Am I crazy?"
     
     
"No, sir. Billy does have nice shoes, and appears to be in big trouble."
     
     
"I didn't kill anybody!" Billy's voice spiked. "I got a job. I pay rent. I pay taxes."
     
     
"And I bet when I do a run of your financials-income, outlay, and so on, I'm going to find some interesting discrepancies."
     
     
"I get good tips."
     
     
"Billy, Billy, Billy." On a windy sigh, Eve shook her head. "You're making this harder than it has to be. Peabody, call in a black-and-white. We'll need our friend here transported down to Central and held for questioning."
     
     
"I'm not going anywhere. I want a lawyer."
     
     
"Oh, you're going somewhere, Billy. But you can have a lawyer."
     
     
***
     
     
Eve went with instinct and called in a team of sweepers.
     
     
"You think this is the vehicle."
     
     
"Nondescript gray, no fancy touches. Who's going to notice it? It's parked and largely unused, only a good healthy walk from the data club. Quick subway ride or a longer but still healthy walk from there to the 24/7 where Rachel Howard worked. Same with Columbia. Drive it uptown to Juilliard, to Lincoln Center. Hey, you can take it out basically whenever you want. Safer than using your own, if you have one. Safer than officially renting anything. Slip friendly Billy the fee, drive off."
     
     
She stood back as the sweepers arrived and got to work. "It fits him. You don't steal a vehicle. That's makes the vehicle a target. Borrow a friend's? What if the friend mentions it to another friend? What if you run into trouble, have a fender bender? Friend's going to be pissed. But something happens to this, you just ditch it, and leave Billy holding the bag."
     
     
"But Billy knows him."
     
     
"Unlikely. Just another side customer. If he used it, he used it twice, and made certain he didn't do anything to make him memorable. He's smart," Eve continued. "And he plans. He'd scoped out Ernestine, this place, the van, Billy, well in advance. He lives or works in this sector."
     
     
She tucked her hands in her back pockets and looked toward the garage entrance, toward the street. "But he didn't kill them here. Don't piss in your own pool."
     
     
"Should I run imaging and photographic businesses in this sector?"
     
     
"Yeah." Eve replied. "We're closing in."
     
     
One of the sweepers popped out. "Getting a lot of human and feline hair, Lieutenant. And some synthetic. Plenty of prints."
     
     
"I want everything you get taken directly to Berenski at the lab. I'll clear it."
     
     
"Shouldn't take long. Vehicle's pretty clean."
     
     
"Appreciate it. Peabody." She headed back to her own vehicle, pulling out her pocket-link as she walked. "Berenski."
     
     
"Yeah, yeah, busy. Go away."
     
     
"Dickie. I've got a sweeper haul heading your way within the hour. Sucked up from what I believe is