“Yeah, sure.”
“And Richard and Catherine, the children. It means quite a bit to Nixie to have that time with you.”
“She tags me once in a while.”
“Yes, I know. You’re a hero to her. Doing your job, yes,” he said before Eve could, “but you kept your word to her, and put the people who slaughtered her family in prison. Even a young girl knows not everyone keeps their word.”
Both their ’links signaled.
“Summerset,” Roarke said.
“Reo.”
Eve moved off a few paces.
When she turned back, Roarke slid his ’link in his pocket.
“You have an address.”
“Yeah, Wenn’s son’s penthouse on the Upper East. I’ll program it, you drive. Summerset?”
“Since you won’t want all the tech, I’ll bottom line it.”
He got behind the wheel.
“It’s clear someone else is good at their work. Though she covered it very well, and very quickly, an inactive Zip account was activated, then shut down again yesterday. A deposit of exactly fifty thousand was made in cash.”
“Cash.”
“Cash, yes, into this inactive account, then wired to various other financial institutions in various locations. It bounced around over the course of a few hours. The seventeen-five was wired to Timothy Kruger’s account, and the remainder moved about a bit more, and now sits in that temporary account, where, I suspect, it will be withdrawn, in cash, when the bank opens today.”
“You’ve got the bank?”
“That’s right.”
“I need it. I’m going to have a couple of soft-clothes detectives surveil. I want her going in—or her rep going in—pulling it out. It’ll be a nice bump when we bust her.”
“Why wouldn’t she simply hand Kruger the cash?”
“She’d have had to deal with him directly. A lowlife.”
As they’d spoken, she’d done a run on Wenn’s son.
“Stephen Wenn, age thirty-three, an associate in his father’s firm. Got a twin sister, Rachel, who lives in Savannah, where she relocated six years ago and lives, with her husband and their two kids, right next-fucking-door to Delaney.”
“The world can be very small.”
“The sister practices law down there through Legal Aid, the husband’s a doctor. Internist. So Delaney meets the son on one of his visits, maybe Wenn, too. She’s in trouble, that’s who she taps. If that’s who picked her up from the hotel Saturday, they waited to pull this lever.”
“You’ll find out why.”
“Did she contact Magdelana, the broker, Joy Barrister? Any of them?”
“If I were in her position,” Roarke told her, “that would be a firm no.”
He pulled into the underground parking at a tower of silver and shimmering blue and straight into a reserved slot.
“It’s yours, isn’t it? This place.”
