In Death 22 - Memory in Death

Bobby’s neck. “Oh, Bobby.”
    “Found her a block east,” Peabody told Eve. “Looked lost, shaken up. She said a man grabbed her, forced her into a building.”
    “My God, Zana, honey. Did he hurt you?”
    “He had a knife. He said he’d cut me if I screamed or tried to run. I was so scared. I said he could have my purse. I told him to take it.
    “I don’t know. I don’t think … Oh, Bobby, he said he killed your mama.”
    Eve waded through the next flood of tears, muscled Zana away from Bobby. “Sit down. Stop crying. You’re not hurt.”
    “I think he” With a trembling hand, she reached down the small of her back.
    “Take off the coat.” Eve noted the small hole in the red cloth, and the tear in the sweater Zana wore under it. There were a few spots of blood. “Superficial,” Eve said, then pulled up the sweater, examined the shallow cut.
    “He stabbed you?”Horrified, Bobby slapped at Eve’s hands to get a look for himself.
    “It’s a scratch,” Eve said.
    “I don’t feel very well.”
    When Zana’s eyes started to roll back, Eve grabbed her and shook. “You’re not going to faint. You’re going to sit down, and you’re going to tell me what happened.” She pushed Zana into a chair, then
    shoved the woman’s head between her knees. The thin silver dangles at her ears swung like bell clappers.
    “Breathe. Peabody.”
    “On it.” Already prepared, Peabody came out of the bathroom with a damp washcloth. “It really is a scratch,” she said gently to Bobby. “A little antiseptic wouldn’t hurt.”
    “In my travel kit. It’s already packed.” Zana’s voice was weak and wavery. “In my little travel kit in the suitcase. God, can we go home? Can’t we just go home?”
    “You’re going to make a statement. On record,” Eve said and showed Zana the recorder. “You got up, went out to get coffee.”
    “I feel a little sick to my stomach.”
    “No, you don’t,” Eve said brutally. “You left the hotel.”
    “I… I wanted to be able to offer you something when you got here. And Bobby’s hardly eaten a thing since … I thought I’d just run out, pick up afewthings before he woke up. We didn’t sleep much last night.”
    “Okay, you went downstairs.”
    “I went down, and I said good morning to the desk clerk. I know he’s a droid, but still. And I went outside. It looked like a nice day, cool though. So I started buttoning up my coat as I walked. Then …
    he was just there. He had his arm around me so fast, and I could feel the point of the knife. He said if
    I screamed he’d ram it right into me. Just to walk, keep walking, look down, down at my feet and keep walking. I was so scared. Can I have some water?”
    “I’ll get it.” Peabody moved into the kitchenette.
    “He walked really fast, and I was afraid I’d trip. Then he’d kill me right there.” Her eyes went glassy again.
    “Focus. Concentrate,” Eve snapped. “What did you do?”
    “Nothing.” Zana shivered, hugged herself. “I said, ‘You can have my purse.’ But he didn’t say anything.
    I was afraid to look up. I thought maybe I should run, but he was strong, and I was too afraid. Then he pushed open this door. It was a bar, I think. It was dark and there was nobody there, but it smelled like
    a bar, you know. Thank you.”
    She took the water in both hands, and still it slopped over the rim as she brought it to her lips. “I can’t stop shaking. I thought he was going to rape me and kill me, and I couldn’t do anything. But he told me
    to sit down, so I did, and keep my hands on the table, so I did. He said he wanted the money, and I told him to take my purse. Just take it. He said he wanted the full two million, or he’d do to me what he did
    to Trudy. But he’d cut me up so nobody’d even recognize me when he was finished.”
    Tears streamed down her face, sparkled on her lashes. “I said, ‘You killed Mama Tru, you killed her?’
    He said he’d do worse to me, and to Bobby, if we didn’t get him the money. Two million dollars.
    We don’t have two million dollars, Bobby. I told him, my God, where are we going to get that kind of money? He said, ‘Ask the cop.’ And he gave me what he said was a numbered account. He made me
    say it back, over and over, and said if I screwed it up, if I forgot the number, he’d come find me, and
    he’d carve it into my ass. That’s what he said. 505748711094463. 505748711094463. 505”
    “Okay, we got it. Keep going.”
    “He