“As I said, this has been my place for half my life. I think I might have taken some time to decide, to plan. Henry Barrister remembered us in his will. He was a generous man, so I could have afforded to take time. We were allowed to stay, that was Nathan Barrister’s generosity, while they considered their options.”
“Okay. I’ll be upstairs. When we leave, the office will be sealed, and we’ll have officers stay on the premises.”
“You must find who did this, Lieutenant. He was a good man. A good son, a good husband and father.”
“Finding who did this is our priority. We’ll be in touch. If anything occurs to you, however trivial, contact me.”
“Believe me, I will.” The first hint of anger broke through the shock and grief. “Someone came into our home and took a life. Believe me, I will. Good night, Lieutenant, Detective.”
Eve head-gestured to Peabody and started for the stairs. As they went up, Peabody glanced back.
“It’s a really nice, comfortable space. It’s like sharing a big, three-bedroom apartment. And no commute to work.”
“Roarke and McNab probably took a look at that lock. I want the sweepers to dust it anyway. No commute to work,” she repeated as Peabody closed the door behind them. “Easy to get out of the office, back downstairs. If you’re smart—and why wouldn’t you be?—you’d stage it to look like a break-in. Murder of the moment, most likely, but the theft had to be planned.”
She walked back out and into the entrance hall.
“Quick trip up and down the stairs this way, too.”
“You don’t really think it’s an inside job?”
“Not discounting it. It’s as easy to believe the staff knew about the vault as it is to believe they didn’t. It’s been there a long time.”
One of the white-suited sweepers came in, shoved up her goggles. “We’re about done in there, Lieutenant. Want us to seal it?”
“No. I’ll take care of that. There’s a lock and security pad downstairs, behind the kitchen area—outside doors, up a ladder. Process that. Inside and out.”
“Will do. Some vault, huh?”
“Yeah, some vault. Peabody, arrange for a couple of uniforms, one to patrol the property, the other to sit on the crime scene. Rotate them out, another pair in at oh-nine-hundred. Then you and McNab can go get some sleep.”
“I can write this up.”
“No, just get me your reports. I need to think about it. Meet me at the morgue tomorrow. We’ll say ten.”
“The vic’s wife, Dallas? I can’t see it.”
“Nobody knows the inside of a marriage unless they’re inside it. Staff, yeah, they’d have a good sense, but nobody knows the full story except the people in it. She’s low on the list, but nobody’s crossed off, not yet.
“Find McNab, take off. If you see Roarke, tell him I’m almost done.”
Eve stood where she was a moment. She let the quiet take over. But for some murmurs, some shuffling from the sweepers as they spread out to process other areas, that quiet held.
In it, she walked to the office, skirted the blood, moved to the window. Electronic lock, disengaged.
She used a single finger to lift the glass. Smooth and easy. And soundless.
Twelve-seventeen, she thought, jam the security system. A minute or two, a couple more if you’re cautious, careful to reach the window, disengage lock. You’re inside by, at a guess, twelve-twenty-one, twenty-two.
She moved over to the vault.
“Have to know where it is,” she muttered. “Already know it’s here and at least some of what’s inside. How long to open it?”
McNab said fifteen minutes, less for Roarke, but she wouldn’t take that as fact until she’d spoken with Roarke.
“Let’s figure you’ve got it open by twelve-thirty-five, maybe a few minutes longer. What the hell are you doing from then until you bash Barrister? Take what’s in that empty display, lots of big shiny emeralds. Maybe gloat over them.”
Wandering inside the vault, she frowned.
