In Death 31 - Indulgence in Death

Sweet and Urich. They both belong to health clubs, but different ones. Sweet has a cabin deal upstate. Urich has a summer place in the Hamptons, but the wife got that in the settlement anyway. They didn’t grow up or go to school anywhere near each other. They have different doctors in different areas of the city. They don’t even shop in the same areas.”
    “Check out the exes. Might as well be thorough.”
    “I got that started, too. So far, zip. Did a secondary run on the driver tonight. Nothing there, either. She’s worked for the service seven years, clean slate, no intersects I’ve found with Sweet. She has driven Urich a number of times, but that’s to be expected. I’m looking at Urich’s admin and her assistant. Not hitting anything yet.”
    “McNab’s going to send down data on a pair of shoes. I want to know venues for purchase.”
    “Shoes?”
    “We got a partial image from park security. It’s not much, but we can get the shoe. I’m going to check out the vic’s place, get her appointment book.”
    Peabody opened the chips, took a deep sniff. “You don’t want me along?”
    “We need to get this drone work done. When you’ve got a good handle on it, take an hour—two if you need it—in the crib.”
    She fueled up with coffee, then headed out. She started to leave the top up, just as a matter of principle, but decided what the hell. Who was going to see her zipping around topless at four in the morning?
    Added to it, when she pulled to the curb in front of the shiny building on Park Avenue, the droid doorman didn’t sneer at her. Instead, he hustled up, respect in every circuit to open her door.
    “Good morning, miss. How can I help you?”
    “By not calling me miss.” Pleased, she pulled out her badge. “It’s Lieutenant. I’m leaving my ride here. Nobody touches it. I need access to Ava Crampton’s unit.”
    “Miss—Lieutenant. Ms. Crampton hasn’t returned home this morning.”
    “And she won’t be, seeing as she’s dead.”
    He got that blank droid stare while he processed the unexpected information. “I’m sorry to hear that. Ms. Crampton was a valued tenant.”
    “Yeah. Code me in.”
    “I’m afraid I’ll need to verify your identification before admitting you.”
    She held the badge up again, waited while its eyes scanned, while they processed. “Has anyone else tried to get into her place tonight?”
    “No. Ms. Crampton occupied the penthouse triple, west corner, and there has been no exit or entrance to that unit since Ms. Crampton herself left at . . .” It got that droid stare again. “Twenty-two-thirty-two. At which time she took a private transportation, with driver, to an unknown to me destination. Do you require data on the transportation and/or driver?”
    “No, I’ve got that.”
    “I’ll pass you through to Ms. Crampton’s unit. Will you require my assistance?”
    “All I require you to do is make sure my ride stays like it is, where it is.”
    “Absolutely.”

    C rampton had lived the high life, Eve thought as she rode a private elevator to the sixty-first floor. Three-level corner penthouse, with roof garden, on an exclusive piece of real estate.
    More than sex, she mused. It took more than acrobatics and a good body to earn what it took to maintain this lifestyle.
    The triple opened up into a sweeping foyer with an intricate chandelier of tangled and glinting silver draped with diamond-clear glass. Dark wood floors provided a canvas for rugs in bold colors and complicated patterns. Art maintained the theme, slashing hot, mixed colors and strange shapes against warm cream walls.
    Furnishings, she noted as she wandered through the main level, managed to marry that complex style with sumptuous comfort. Deep, deep cushions and plenty of them, sparkling lights, mirrored tables, countless pillows.
    A silver dining table held a huge clear vase of flowers someone with an artist’s eye had arranged—and recently. Over an ebony fireplace in that room reigned a pretty spectacular portrait of its former occupant, boldly nude as she reclined on a bed draped in red.
    So, she hadn’t been the shy, modest type.
    Eve swung through kitchen, powder rooms, a separate living area, admired the views more out of curiosity than necessity. It helped give her a sense of the woman. Lived full, she thought, lived well and enjoyed the fruits of her labors.
    She took the clear curl of stairs rather than the elevator to the second floor.
    The master—or