In Death 31 - Indulgence in Death

a wall of screens hype the company’s self-proclaimed innovations and history.
    Eve chose a receptionist who looked bored, and laid her badge on the glass counter. “Augustus Sweet.”
    “Name, please.”
    Eve laid a finger on the badge.
    “One moment.” She danced her fingers on a screen behind the counter. “Mr. Sweet is in meetings until two. If you’d like to make an appointment, I’d be—”
    Eve tapped her badge again. “That’s my appointment. You’re going to want to interrupt Mr. Sweet and tell him the cops are here. Oh, and one more thing? If you send his admin or some other minion out here to ask me what my business is, I’m going to take it the wrong way, and I’m going to take that wrong way out on you.”
    “There’s no reason to get snippy.”
    Eve merely smiled. “You haven’t seen snippy yet. Get Sweet, then we can both do our jobs.”
    She got Sweet. It took nearly ten minutes, but he walked through a set of glass doors. He wore a dark suit, dark tie, and an expression that said he probably wasn’t a fun guy.
    His hair, a pewter gray, was cut short and bristling around a tough, square-jawed face. His eyes, hard and blue, held Eve’s as he walked.
    “I assume this is important enough to interrupt my schedule.”
    “I think so, but then I rank murder pretty high on the list.”
    She’d projected just enough to draw attention. Sweet’s jaw tightened as he turned, gave Eve an impatient come-with-me gesture, then strode back to the glass doors. She followed with Peabody down a wide hallway that opened into a secondary lobby. He turned, eating up the ground beyond offices to a corner space with an important desk ranged in front of an important view of the city.
    He closed the door, folded his arms over his chest. “Identification.”
    Both Eve and Peabody took out their ID. He took out a pocket scanner, verified them.
    “Lieutenant Dallas. I know your reputation.”
    “Handy.”
    “Who’s been murdered?”
    “Jamal Houston.”
    “That name’s not familiar to me.” Now he drew out a communicator. “Mitchell, check my files for any information on a Houston, Jamal. He doesn’t work in my department,” he said to Eve. “I know the names of everyone who works in my department.”
    “He didn’t work here. He’s the co-owner of a limousine service, one you booked last night for transport to LaGuardia.”
    “I didn’t book any transportation last night. I used the company service.”
    “For what?”
    “For transportation to and from a dinner meeting. Intermezzo, eight o’clock, party of six. I left here at seven-thirty, arrived at the restaurant at seven-fifty-three. I left the restaurant at ten-forty-six, and arrived home at eleven. I had no business at LaGuardia last night.”
    “Picking up your wife?”
    He smiled, sourly. “My wife and I separated four months ago. I wouldn’t pick her up off the floor, much less at the airport. In any case, as far as I know she’s spending the summer in Maine. You have the wrong man.”
    “Maybe. Your name, address, and credit card were used to book the service. The driver picked up the passenger at this location.” Wanting his reaction, she pulled out the hard copy Chin had given her, offered it.
    And watched his eyes, saw them widen. He pulled out the communicator again. “Mitchell, cancel all my credit cards, initiate a search on the accounts, and arrange for temporary secure replacements. ASAP,” he snapped. “I want Gorem to do a sniff on all my electronics, and for Lyle to do an all-level sweep. Now.”
    “Who’d have access to your information?” Eve asked when he shoved the communicator back in his pocket.
    “I’m in the business of security. No one should’ve been able to access that credit information. That’s a company card. How was this booked?”
    “Via ’link.”
    “The sweep will include a check of all ’link logs in this department.”
    “The Electronic Detectives Division will be doing a sweep of its own, which will include your personal ’links.”
    She didn’t think it was possible, but his jaw tightened a few more notches. “You’ll need a warrant.”
    “No problem.”
    “What is this about? I need to take care of this breach of security immediately.”
    “It’s about murder, Mr. Sweet, which may prove to be connected to your security problem, but still ranks higher on the food chain. The driver’s body was found early this morning, in his ride, at LaGuardia.”
    “Killed by