In Death 28 - Promises in Death

“Only more painful for him. But if she was in love with Morris, I don’t believe she’d have betrayed him. It doesn’t fit her. If she’d ended the relationship with Alex Ricker, and found someone else, she wouldn’t betray it.”
    “Which gives Ricker another motive. If their personal relationship was dead, how about their business one? If they’d had one.”
    “I’d say, if there was one, they were tied together. Why would she risk it?”
    “Maybe he didn’t give her a choice. I want her to be clean.”
    Mira reached out to touch Eve’s arm. “Yes, I know you do. So do I. It’s painful to see a friend in pain.”
    “He trusts me to do the job, but I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me if doing it proves her dirty. It pisses me off I have to care about that. I wouldn’t have to care if . . .”
    “You didn’t care.”
    “That’s the bitch.” She pushed up. “Thanks.”
    “Anything you need on this, anytime. I’ve cleared it.”
    Eve stepped out, started back to Homicide. To do whatever the job demanded.

9
    THE PROBLEM WITH BEING THE SON OF A NOTORIOUS criminal was that it was a lot easier for cops to obtain search warrants. With one in hand, and a small battalion of cops behind her, Eve entered Alex Ricker’s penthouse for the second time.
    The fact that he had a trio of lawyers with him didn’t surprise her. The head guy, who identified himself as Henry Proctor, gave off the impression of elder statesman with his flow of white hair, craggy face, conservative dark suit. She imagined his rich, baritone voice had echoed through many courtrooms, sculpting the law like a chisel on marble to defend his high-collar clients.
    “My client is fully prepared to cooperate with the police in this matter, to the letter of the law.”
    “You can read this letter of the law.” Eve offered the warrant. “We’re authorized to search the premises, and to confiscate and examine all data and communication devices, including portables and personals.”
    “One of Mr. Ricker’s legal counsel or staff will observe every level of the execution of the warrant. Which will be conducted on record. Mr. Ricker will also exercise his right to record the search and confiscation. He will make no statement, and will not be questioned at this time.”
    “Fine by me. Captain Feeney.”
    It wasn’t usual for the head of EDD to assist in the execution of a warrant. But Eve wanted no mistakes—and Feeney had wanted in. She nodded to her former partner, her trainer.
    His basset-hound face remained sober. She wondered if she were the only one in the room who knew how much he was enjoying himself. Any slap at a Ricker gave the day a little shine.
    “Okay, boys and girls, you know the drill.” He stepped forward, a contrast to the slick and polished in his rumpled suit and worn-in shoes. “Receipts will be issued for any equipment and devices removed.”
    “An estimated time of return would be appreciated. This causes considerable inconvenience.”
    Feeney scratched his head through his wiry thatch of ginger and silver hair. “Depends, don’t it?”
    “Detective Baxter, you and your team will begin the search on the third floor. Officer Carmichael, take this level. Peabody,” Eve added, “we’ll take the second floor.”
    She wanted the bedrooms, the private spaces, the areas of intimacy. Even people who knew better generally felt safest in the place they slept, had sex, dressed, undressed. It was, in Eve’s mind, the most likely spot for Alex to have made a mistake, to have forgotten something that could tie him to Coltraine’s murder.
    They didn’t speak. She’d already informed the team, down to the lowest uniformed drone, that everything they said, everything they did, every expression, gesture, and sneeze could and would be on record. And could and would be used by the lawyers to question both the procedure and the intent of the search and seize.
    “We’ll start with Mr. Ricker’s bedroom,” she told Rod Sandy.
    He stood behind them, disapproval in every line of his face and body. He turned out of the airy, second-floor parlor and into the spacious master suite.
    Alex knew how to live, Eve mused. The parlor spilled into a tidy office/sitting room with a black glass work counter holding mini-units. A matching wet bar, a couple of club chairs, and an entertainment screen filled in the blanks. Knowing Roarke’s fondness for panels, she ran her fingers over the walls.
    “This is what you’re