Not a street bump, not a street thief. He hadn’t wanted her wallet, but her life.
Chapter Sixteen
Eve didn’t need the MTs to pronounce him. Dead was dead.
With the beat droids dealing with the crowd, Peabody brought her a field kit.
“Talk to the cabbie, and shit, the fare.”
The fare, she noted, comprised two middle-aged women who clung to each other and wailed.
“See if you can arrange transpo to take those two screamers wherever they need to go. And have the morgue pick up what’s left of this guy.”
“You’re not hurt.”
“I’m not hurt.” Eve pulled the switchblade out of the right pocket of the dead man’s bloody trench coat. She flipped the trigger, snapped out the lethal blade. “Not for lack of trying.”
“Jesus. Let’s hear it for Thin Shield.”
“Yeah, let’s.”
Eve bagged the weapon, dug out the would-be assassin’s wallet. Sheflipped through his ID, including a driver’s license, both in the name of Timothy Kruger. Age twenty-six.
“Twenty-seven next week. Well, happy fucking birthday.”
She verified his ID with her pad.
“Identity confirmed as Kruger, Timothy, age twenty-six. Mixed-race male, resides at 512 West Twenty-Sixth. Occupation listed as business consultant.
“Yeah, I bet you were. Had some bumps before this last one. Grand theft auto, illegals distribution, fraud, assault. A short and varied career.”
She bagged the wallet, then pulled out his ’link. Since she found it locked and passcoded, she bagged it for EDD.
“Who hired you, Kruger? You didn’t decide to stab me in the back on a whim.”
Thinking ahead, she called for a search warrant for Kruger’s apartment.
She scanned traffic. Uniforms had come to barricade off the scene, routing traffic around the bloody mess of it. The two women got into another cab. With his fares on their way, the cabbie bent over from the waist and puked.
And Peabody, being Peabody, patted his back until he’d emptied his guts.
Eve straightened, stepped back when the morgue wagon pulled up. Peabody crossed to her.
“Cabdriver’s shaken up. Been driving eight years, not even a scraped bumper.”
“Wasn’t a thing he could do.”
“I told him just that. I got his statement, his fares’ statements, names, and contacts. We’re taking the cab in, processing it. Uniforms are taking him home.”
“All right. Timothy Kruger.” She passed the bagged ’link to Peabody. “Have someone take this in to EDD. We’ll go take a look at his place, see what the hell. Next of kin’s his mother, address a few blocks from his, so we’ll notify.”
“You know I can deal with that. You could go home. You got a lot of his blood on you.”
“I need to see his place. He had to be a hire.”
“If he was, they didn’t get what they paid for. Dallas, maybe his mom doesn’t need to see his blood all over you.”
Eve looked down at the blood on her shirt, her jacket, her pants, her damn boots. “Yeah, that’s a point. I’ll take his place, you’ll notify. You’ll need to log the rest into evidence. Write up your separate report.”
