In Death 22 - Memory in Death

scratched the paunch of his belly, yawned, and gave her a good whiff of breath that had yet to be refreshed.
    “No, it wasn’t kids.Giveme your whereabouts between seven and nine this morning.”
    “In my Christing bed, where d’ya think? Don’t close ‘til three. Time I get locked up and hit the sheets,
    it’s damn near four. I sleep days. Nothing out there but sun and traffic days anyway.”
    “You live upstairs.”
    ” ‘S’right. Got a dance studio second floor, apartments on three and four.”
    “Alone? You live alone, Chancey?”
    ” ‘S’right. Look, why’d I wanna break into my own place?”
    “Good question. Do you know this woman?” She showed him Trudy’s ID photo.
    She gave him credit for taking a good look. Cops and bartenders, Eve thought. They knew how to make people.
    “Nope. She the one got pulled in here?”
    “Nope. She’s the one got dead a couple days ago.”
    “Hey, hey, hey!” His rheumy eyes finally showed some life. “Nobody got dead in my place. Some might mix it up a little now and then, but nobody gets dead.”
    “How about this one? You know her?” She offered Zana’s ID.
    “No. Jesus, she dead, too? What’s the deal?”
    “What time does the dance studio open?”
    “Like eight. Closed on Monday, though, thank Christ. Nothing but noise otherwise.”
    * * *
    “He’s not in it,” Peabody said when they stepped outside.
    “Nope.” On the street, Eve studied the building, the ground-level door, the exterior. “Easy enough to
    pick out. Locks were crappy, security crappier. Minimal skill required to get in.”
    She scanned the pedestrian and street traffic. “Midlevel risk to get her in. Guy quick-walking with a woman, her head’s down. Who pays attention? She’d drummed up a little spine, makes some noise, resists, maybe she shakes him off.”
    “Small-town girl, big city, dead mother-in-law.” Peabody shrugged. “Not surprising she went along, especially when he gave her that little stick.”
    “Sloppy, though, whole thing’s sloppy. Stupid on top of sloppy. And you’re hitting for two million when, as far as you know, the well’s a hell of a lot deeper. Chump change.”
    “You’re jaded.”
    “Yeah, so?”
    “No, I mean about money, if you can call two mil chump change.”
    “I am not.” The insult went deep. “You’re in for two, then you get bloody. Stakes go up when there’s blood, and you ask for more. Smalltime, it’s small-time. Has to be another reason he took Trudy out.”
    “Lover’s quarrel, maybe. No honor among thieves. Maybe she was trying to cut him out.”
    “Yeah, greed always works.”
    Her ‘link beeped on the way to the car. “Dallas.”
    “Complications?” Roarke said.
    “A few.” She filled him in. “You’re on forECCstatus if you want and can fit it in.”
    “I’ve a few things to deal with I’d rather not shift, but I’ll touch base with Feeney. I should be able to work on it a bit at home this evening. In the company of my lovely wife.”
    Eve’s shoulders automatically hunched together, particularly when she noted Peabody looking her way with fluttering eyelashes. “My day’s pretty packed. I’m going to go by the lab now… No, shit, meet
    first, then lab. Gotta do some media spinning, so I’m tagging Nadine. Appreciate the assist if you
    manage it.”
    “Not a problem. Squeeze some food into your schedule.”
    “I’m having lunch with Nadine at some stupid place.”
    “Scentsational,” Peabody told him, leaning over enough to get a glimpse of his face on the ‘link screen.
    “Well, now, the world’s full of surprises. Let me know what you think of it.”
    It only took Eve a beat. “Yours?”
    “A man’s got to keep his hand in. I’ve a lunch meeting myself. Try the nasturtium salad. It’s very nice.”
    “Yeah, that’s going to happen. Later. That’s flowers, right?” she asked Peabody when she ended transmission.
    “Edible ones.”
    “In my world, flowers aren’t on the menu.”
    * * *
    Apparently they were in Roarke’s world. They could be sampled, sipped, and sniffed, all in one elaborate setting where the tables rose up on graceful stems and bloomed in a garden of colors.
    The air smelled like a meadow, which Eve assumed was supposed to be a good thing.
    The floor was some sort of green glass, translucent so the flowers thriving below shimmered in a sophisticated garden. There were various levels, up trios of steps. An arbor arched over the bar, where diners