Remember When

copies of our file on Cobb. What angle do you want us to work?"
    "Track Bobby. He didn't leave us much, but there's always something. We'll see what EDD can dig out of the vics' 'links."
    "Somebody should go through her personal items," Peabody added. "She might've kept mementos. Girls do that. Something from a restaurant where they ate."
    "Good one." Baxter winked at her. "The sister said he took Tina to an art gallery and a play. We'll work on that. After all, how many art galleries and theaters are there in New York?" He slapped a hand on Trueheart's shoulder. "Shouldn't take my earnest sidekick more than a couple hundred man-hours to find out."
    "Somebody saw them together somewhere," Eve agreed. "Peabody and I will continue to work Jacobs. We pool all information. For homework assignment, read Gannon's book. Let's know all we can know about these diamonds and the people who stole them. Class dismissed. Peabody, you're with me in ten. Baxter? Can I have a minute?"
    "Teacher's pet," Baxter said, tapping his heart and winking at Trueheart.
    To stall until they were alone, Eve wandered to the board, studied the faces.
    "Are you giving him that drone work to keep his ass in the chair?"
    "As much as I can," Baxter confirmed. "He's bounced back-Christ, to be that young again. But he's not a hundred percent. I'm keeping him on light duty for now."
    "Good. Any problems combining these investigations under me?"
    "Look at that face." Baxter lifted his chin toward the ID photo of Tina Cobb. Even the cheap, official image radiated youth and innocence.
    "Yeah."
    "I play pretty well with others, Dallas. And I want, I really want to find out who turned that into that." He tapped a finger on the crime-scene still of Tina Cobb. "So I got no problem."
    "Does it sit right with you if Peabody and I go through your vic's things? Peabody's got an eye for that kind of thing."
    "All right."
    "You want to take the club where my vic was last seen?"
    "Can do."
    "Then we'll have a briefing in the morning. Nine hundred."
    "Make my world complete and tell me we're having it at your home office. Where the AutoChef has real pig meat and eggs from chickens that cluck."
    "Here-unless I let you know different."
    "Spoilsport."
    ***
    Eve headed back uptown in irritable traffic. A breakdown on Eighth clogged the road for blocks and had what seemed like half of New York breaking the noise pollution codes in order to blast their horns in pitiful and useless protest.
    Her own solution was a bit more direct. She hit the sirens, punched into vertical and skimmed the corner to take the crosstown to Tenth.
    They were fifteen blocks away when her climate control sputtered and died.
    "I hate technology. I hate Maintenance. I hate the goddamn stupid NYPSD budget that sticks me with these pieces-of-shit vehicles."
    "There, there, sir," Peabody crooned as she hunkered down to work on the controls manually.
    "There, there."
    After the sweat began to run into her eyes, Peabody gave up. "You know, I could call Maintenance. Yes, we hate them like poison, like rat poison on a cracker," she said quickly. "So I was thinking, I could ask McNab to take a whack at it. He's good with this kind of thing."
    "Great, good, fine." Eve rolled down the windows before they suffocated. The stinking, steamy air outside wasn't much of an improvement. "When we finish at Cobb's, you drop me home, take this rolling disaster with you. You can pick me up in the morning."
    When she reached the apartment building she considered, actively, the rewards of giving one of the stoop-sitters twenty to steal the damn car. Instead, she decided to hope somebody boosted it while they were inside.
    As they started inside, she heard Peabody's quiet whimper. "What?"
    "Nothing. I didn't say anything."
    "It's those shoes, isn't it? You're limping. Goddamn it, what if we have to pursue some asshole on foot?"
    "Maybe they weren't the best choice, but I'm still finding my personal look. There may be some miscues along the way."
    "Tomorrow you'd better be in something normal. Something you can walk in."
    "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Peabody hunched her shoulders at Eve's glare. "I don't have to say 'sir' all the time because, hey, look, detective now. And we're partners and all."
    "Not when you're wearing those shoes."
    "I was going to burn them when I got home. But now I'm thinking of getting a hatchet and chopping them into tiny, tiny pieces."
    Eve knocked on the apartment door. Essie answered. Her eyes were red and