“Do you remember anything about the person with him?”
“I think, yeah, Bobby looked over at him, like they were talking. He was taller than Bobby, but not by much, and Bobby’s kind of short. Long hair, I think. Longer than yours,” she said to Roarke.
“But there were a lot of people, and I’m quite short, so I didn’t really keep track of Bobby. I just thought he was going to grab some coffee.
“But he wasn’t.”
She looked over at Eve with drenched eyes. “What’s going to happen to Bobby now?”
“His mother’s making arrangements for him.”
“He loved his mom. We never met her, but he really loved her, and his sister, too. Are they doing like a funeral?”
“I can’t give you her contact, but if you give me yours, I’ll check with her. If she okays it, I’ll let you know the arrangements.”
Luce looked at Ansel, who nodded.
“You can have mine.” Luce gave Eve her ’link number. “It’s Lucille Mulligan and…” Ansel nodded again. “Ansel Porter. Can you tell Bobby’s mom we loved him, too? We really did. And we’re sorry?”
“Yes.” Eve slid one of her cards onto the table. “If you think of anything else, contact me.”
“They shouldn’t get away with it,” Luce said. “They shouldn’t get away with killing Bobby.”
“No, they shouldn’t. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure they don’t.”
Luce read the card, then, blue eyes wide, stared at Eve. “Eve Dallas? Like in the vid?”
“Eve Dallas, like with the NYPSD.”
She nudged Roarke. He slid out, then laid two hundred on the table in front of each of them.
Ansel looked at him. “Why?”
“I’ve lost friends.”
When he stepped out with Eve, she said, “I’m not even going to bother.”
“Good. They did love him. Clearly.”
“We’re going to work our way north. Maybe somebody saw more, saw them get into a vehicle.”
She tried more LCs, street vendors, the annoying hawkers. And finally hit on one that thought, possibly, they’d seen Bobby turn at Forty-Fifth Street, maybe with some dude.
Since some dude turned out to be the best description, she turned on Forty-Fifth.
“Could’ve parked along here, or shit, somewhere on Eighth.”
“I’m happy to walk as long as you like, but.”
“Yeah, but. Party’s over down this far out, and the odds of anyone taking note of a couple of guys walking this way or getting into a parked car are slim to none. I’ll have uniforms canvass tomorrow. Let’s head back.”
“You can’t feel this was a waste of time.”
“It’s never a waste. And no. He walked this way with his killer. Killer taller than him—she didn’t say tall. Bobby was five-seven. The other LC said around five-eight or -nine. I’m going with about five-eight. Long hair, Luce said. So I’m going with long brown hair.
“And I’m hoping Yancy can get something more solid from the gallery manager. Get enough pieces, you get a picture.”
As they headed back to the car, the noise level rose.
