In Death 16 - Portrait in Death

Is there anyplace in here that's quiet?"
     
     
"Not this time of day." He scanned the crowd, used his chin to point. "Grab that privacy booth in the back, to the right. Give me a minute to fill these other orders."
     
     
Eve wound through, Peabody, slurping Blue Meanie, in her wake. Students, she noted, treated the club like a safari and came in loaded with bags and satchels.
     
     
There was no bag or satchel in Kenby's locker at Lincoln Center.
     
     
She stepped over, stepped around, shoved aside, and reached the booth at the same time a pair of college boys in track shirts leaped into the chairs.
     
     
They looked up at her and grinned. "You lose. We're younger and faster."
     
     
"I'm older and I've got a badge." She flipped it out and grinned back. "Maybe I should have a look through your backpacks, then brighten everyone's day with a quick cavity search."
     
     
They scrambled up and away.
     
     
"They are fast," Peabody noted.
     
     
"Yeah, but I don't need some pussy drink to be mean."
     
     
Peabody slurped again. "It's very refreshing, and contrary to its name puts me in a very amenable mood. Or maybe that has something to do with the cavity search McNab and I performed on each other last night."
     
     
Eve slapped at the cheek muscle that twitched. "Thank God I haven't had any lunch. I'd have lost it."
     
     
"I think it's nice we're both having regular sex. It keeps us in rhythm."
     
     
"Shut up, shut up."
     
     
"Can't help it. I'm happy."
     
     
"I can fix that."
     
     
With another frosty drink in his hand, Steve dropped down next to Peabody. He sucked through the straw stuck in the pale green foam. "Okay, we got five." He hit the button that closed the clear bubble around the booth. "Ah." He smiled into the silence as he drew on the straw. "Excellent."
     
     
"What do you know about the transmission sent from here this morning?"
     
     
His eyes popped open. "Huh? Again?"
     
     
"EDD's been here. They impounded the unit, talked to the day manager."
     
     
"I just came on an hour ago and had to dive right into the pool. I didn't hear about this. Is somebody else dead?"
     
     
Eve took out the photo of Kenby. "Recognize him?"
     
     
"Man. I don't know. Man. I think so, maybe. I'm not sure. Should I?"
     
     
"Take a breath, Steve."
     
     
"Yeah, right. This is brutal." After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked at the image again. "I think maybe he's been in. Is he like an actor or something?"
     
     
"Or something."
     
     
"You should ask Shirllee. She goes for the theater and artist types."
     
     
"She here?"
     
     
"Yeah, she's on. Give me a sec."
     
     
He opened the bubble. Noise poured back over them as he slid out and hurried away.
     
     
"They got curly fries," Peabody announced, and punched in an order on the menu before Eve could speak. "My blood sugar's dropping."
     
     
"That'll be the day."
     
     
Steve came back with a tall, skinny brunette. Her hair was done in multiple and equally skinny braids that fell to her waist and were joined at the tips by a black ribbon. She wore a quartet of silver spikes in her right earlobe and a trio of silver studs dripping below her left eye like sparkly tears.
     
     
She sat next to Eve and clasped her hands together so the forest of rings on her fingers clanged and clinked. "Stevie said you're a cop."
     
     
"Stevie wins a point." Eve hit the privacy button, then nudged the photo in front of Shirllee. "You know him?"
     
     
"Hey, that's Twinkletoes. I call him that 'cause he's a dancer. Sure, he comes in a couple times a week. Lunch break usually, or early dinner. But he's been here for the music a few times, weekends. He can really move. What he do?"
     
     
"He come in with anybody special?"
     
     
"Travels with a theater pack mostly. Picked one out of the herd a couple of times, but he never hung with one girl. He's straight though, 'cause I never saw him moving on another guy."
     
     
"Anybody move on him?"
     
     
"Not especially. He mostly hangs with people he knows. He tips, too." She shot a knowing look at Steve. "College kids stiff you, but Twinkles here, he always tipped. Brought up right, you ask me. Don't see him getting in trouble. He never made any trouble in here."
     
     
"When's the last time he came in?"
     
     
"That I saw him?" She pursed lips dyed dead white. "Friday night, I think. Last Friday. We had a totally mag holo-band in. Hard Crash. They're completely juiced. Twinks was