In Death 32 - Treachery in Death

what? What’s with you cops today, crawling all over the place. My lip’s bleeding.” He swiped the back of his hand over it. “I hit my lip when you knocked me down.”
    “File another complaint. Tell me about the other cops.”
    He crossed his arms over his chest, accenting his saggy little potbelly. “Don’t have to tell you dick.”
    “Well, that’s true.” Eve offered an agreeable nod. “Just like I don’t have to tell you to assume the position so I can search you as I suspect you’re carrying illegal substances—since I can fucking see the bag sticking out of your pocket.”
    He shoved at it hastily. “What bag?”
    “Jubie, Jubie, let’s let bygones be. You tell me about the other cops, I walk away and you get to enjoy your herbals, since that’s what we’re calling them, in peace and privacy.”
    His eyes narrowed, shifted. “How do I know you’re not doing some entrapment shit?”
    “You watch too many cop shows. The cops, Jubie, where were they?”
    He transferred his weight from foot to foot. “Okay, but if you screw with me, I know a lawyer.”
    “God, that sure strikes fear in my heart. Did you hear that, Peabody, Jubie knows a lawyer.”
    “I feel my feet trembling in my shoes.”
    He scowled at both of them, but had to be considering pushing it and getting hauled in. “Couple of dudes, sharp suits. One’s a really big guy. They went in Juicy’s place. There.”
    He pointed across the hall.
    “Didn’t even bother to knock. Fucking cops. I heard them coming up the stairs, looked out the peep in case it was Juicy coming back.”
    “Juicy usually supply you with the herbals?”
    “Maybe. So I make them as cops, and they go right in. That’s a violation of civil rights.”
    “Your knowledge of the law astounds and impresses. Describe them.”
    “Like I said, one’s a big guy. Got blond hair. Other’s got dark hair. I didn’t take a freaking picture. Stayed in about a half hour maybe and came out all sweaty, looking pissed. That’s it.”
    “Peabody, would you please show this gentleman a selection of freaking pictures since he didn’t take one.”
    “Happy to.” Peabody pulled several copies of ID shots out of her bag, mixed Bix’s and Garnet’s with them. “If you’d take a look at this, Mr. Jubie, and let us know if you recognize any of these individuals.”
    “Christ’s sake, don’t you cops know each other? Him. Him. Those are the ones broke in to Juicy’s place and violated his civil rights.”
    “You’re sure?”
    “I said so, didn’t I?”
    “When’s the last time you saw Juicy?”
    “Couple days ago. Three, maybe. Who keeps track?”
    “Okay. Thank you for your cooperation.”
    Before she could change her mind, he jammed his key in the lock and did a fast turn into his flop.
    “Got them,” Eve murmured. “One more stop. Pizza.”
    “It’s rare for me to say, but I’m really not hungry. Between that flop and this heat, food holds no appeal.”
    “We’re not eating. We’re going to visit the scene of Juicy’s last meal.”
    “Oh. Listen, when we finish there, is it okay if I go to my place, grab a shower and change? Even before that fun-filled search in garbage hell I was feeling a little grungy.”
    “Be at my home office by sixteen hundred—thirty sooner’s better.”
    “No problem. And ...” Peabody pulled her sticky shirt away from her breasts. “I think everyone will thank you.”
    True to form, the pizza joint was in Keener’s territory—and, in fact, between his hole and his flop.
    “Did I say not the brightest bulb? This one was burned out for a while.”
    Counters lined one wall and the box-sized window. A couple people enjoying a slice rolled eyes toward her, then hastily away. She could almost hear the relief slide out of them when she walked past.
    “What’ll it be?” The woman behind the glass-fronted counter rolled her shoulders as if to dislodge an ache. She was black, with thin, tough-looking arms, her hair tied back in a blue kerchief and a single hoop piercing her left eyebrow.
    “Questions.” Eve showed her badge.
    “Look, I don’t want trouble so I stay out of it. I’m clean. I’ve got a kid at home, and I’ve got to work to pay the rent.”
    “I’ve got no problems for you. Do you know Rickie Keener? Juicy?”
    “Everybody knows Juicy.”
    “Who was on the counter last night?”
    “I was.” She glanced toward the back with a look of avid dislike. “Gee made me work the late shift, even