In Death 22 - Memory in Death

drink tubes splatted and burst.
    She jigged away from a pedestrian he all but threw at her, then jagged from another. Judging the distance, she pumped her legs, shoved off. Her tackle took him down, sheered them both across the wet sidewalk an inch from the curb, where the brakes of a maxibus screamed like a woman.
    Her healing hip cried like a baby at the jolt.
    He managed to get one in while she was avoiding being crunched under skidding wheels. She tasted
    blood when the elbow jammed her jaw.
    “Now that was stupid.” She yanked his arms back, slapped on restraints. “That was bone stupid. Now you’ve got assaulting an officer on your tab.”
    “Never said cop. How’m I supposed to know? ‘Sides, you were chasing me, you nearly threw me in
    front of a bus. Police brutality!” He shouted it, humping his body as he struggled to look for some sympathetic bystander. “I’m minding my own and you try to kill me.”
    “Minding your own.” Eve turned her head, spat out blood. At least her throbbing jaw took her mind off her hip.
    She tugged, pulled out the purseand another three, along with assorted wallets. “Pretty good haul,”
    she commented.
    He sat up, shrugged, philosophical now. “Holidays. People come out, whatever the hell. Don’t slap the assault on, okay? Come on, cut me one, will ya? It was reflex.”
    Eve wiggled her jaw. “You’ve got good ones.”
    “You’re fucking fast, gotta admire it.”
    She shoved at her wet hair as Peabody and McNab ran up. “Disperse this crowd, will you? And get a black-and-white down here to haul this guy in. Multiple counts, robbery. Seeing as it’s this close to Christmas, I’ll give you a pass on the assault.”
    “Appreciate it.”
    “Let’s getget that camera out of my face,” Eve snapped.
    McNab busied himself gathering the bags and wallets. “Your lip’s bleeding, Lieutenant.”
    “Nah.” She swiped a hand over it. “Bit my own damn tongue.”
    “Car’s on its way, sir,” Peabody reported. “Nice pedestrian-hurdling, by the way.”
    Eve crouched down to have another word with the snatcher. “If you’d run the other way, we’d be at Central, out of this damn cold drizzle.”
    “Yeah, like I’d be that stupid.”
    “Stupid enough to do the grab right in front of the courthouse.”
    He gave her a sorrowful look. “I couldn’t stop myself. The woman’s swinging the damn purse around, gabbing to the woman walking with her. She practically gave it to me.”
    “Right. Tell it to your PD.”
    “Lieutenant Dallas?” Nadine, huffing a little, stepped up. She had a hand clamped over the arm of a woman with huge brown eyes. “This is Leeanne Petrie, whose property you’ve just recovered.”
    “Ma’am. I just don’t know how to thank you.”
    “Start by not calling me ma’am. We’ll need you to come down to Central, Ms. Petrie, to make a
    statement and sign for your property.”
    “I’ve never had so much excitement. Why, that man just shoved me right down on the ground! I’m from a little place called White Springsjust south of Wichita, Kansas. I’ve never had so much excitement.”
    It had to be said. “You’re not in Kansas anymore.”
    * * *
    Because she pulled rank and ordered Peabody home, straightening out the mugging mess kept her at Central until after shift. Dark had the temperatures dropping, and the incessant drizzle turned into sleet. The now tricky streets turned the dflve home into a marathon of annoyance.
    Stuck in it, she sipped on ice water to soothe her sore tongue, and let her mind drift. She was a handful
    of blocks from home when it drifted to Trudy Lombard, and the light went off.
    “Not me. Jesus, it’s not about me. Why would it be? Damn it, damn it, damn it.”
    She flicked on sirens, shot into vertical. Cursing herself and the snarls that made the maneuver all but suicidal, she engaged her dash link.
    “Roarke,” she snapped when Summerset came on. “Is he there yet? Put him on.”
    “He’s just come through the gates, hasn’t yet reached the house. If there’s an emergency”
    “Tell him I’ll be there in ten. I need to talk to him. If anyone named Lombard contacts the house, don’t put her through to him. You got that? Don’t put her through.”
    She flicked off, whipped her wheel, and nipped back down to the street to narrowly miss a trio offenders.
    Son of a bitch! What else would she be after but money? Big, shiny piles of it. And who in the known universe had the biggest