Eve shrugged. “Anyway. Interview End.”
“He stole the Royal Suite.”
Eve paused at the door. “He who?”
“Roarke, you know damn well. He stole it from the Tate.”
“Really? He’d have been, what, about eighteen? Nice try.”
“He told me!”
“Uh-huh. You buy that one, Peabody? That some kid from Dublin went to London, broke through the security of the Tate Gallery, then through the security around the Royal Suite, and walked away with it?”
She could see Peabody did, at least sort of. “Nope. It was a team. No other way.” She rolled her eyes at Magdelana. “I’m saying she’s the one who’s jealous. Kind of pathetic. I’ll take her back down.”
“Thanks.”
Eve stepped out, breathed out. And every cop in her division, including her commander, stepped out of Observation.
And, obviously preplanned, every one of them gave her a golf clap.
“Cute. Go the hell home.”
“I’m writing it up.”
“Detective Sergeant, go home.”
“No, sir, boss, I’m writing up the interviews, filing them.” Jenkinson jabbed a finger at her. “You go the hell home.”
“I’ve got a couple of personal matters to see to first,” she said when Roarke and Mira stepped out with Reo.
“You go on and do that. We got you covered here. I hear you’ve got a cop bar opening up soon. When you do, first round’s on me.”
“That it’s not.” Roarke laid a hand on Jenkinson’s shoulder. “Drinks on the house opening night for everyone here.”
“Who’s going to argue with that?” And Jenkinson strolled off with the others.
Whitney stepped up. “Exceptional work, Lieutenant. Relay the same to Detective Peabody.”
“I will, sir, thank you.”
“I enjoyed this. Damn if I didn’t enjoy this.”
When he left, Mira moved up. “As classic a sociopath as I’ve ever seen. The planet will be the better with her off it. You handled her perfectly.”
“In the end, she turned out to be an easy mark.”
“She underestimated you, that’s my take,” Reo said. “If she’s smart, she’ll get a lawyer, even if it’s a PD. Won’t do her any good. Like you said. She’s cooked. I’ll go write up my end of it. Get some sleep.”
Then she stood alone with Roarke.
“There are darker places in her than there were, I think. Or they’ve spread to smother any of the light she had.”
“Do you still want to see her?”
“I do. It can wait if you’d rather be done with this today.”
“No, let’s close the book all the way, then toss it in a fire. I’ll take you down, give you the time and space.”
