“That’s brilliant. That’s why you’re the LT.”
“Run the daughters, will you?” She glanced around at the empty desks. “Baxter and Trueheart?”
“They’re talking to people—friends of the vic in the cold case. They’re looped in if a call comes through.”
“All right. I’m tagging Feeney, and Detective Willowby. Run the daughters.” She checked her wrist unit. “You’ve got time to run Henry Barrister, and the estate lawyer. Then go. Unless something breaks, I’ll work from home tomorrow. I’ll keep you plugged in.”
“I can run the sister, too, or the staff.”
Eve weighed the time. “Take the cook for now. If I get bogged down otherwise, I’ll toss the others at you.”
As she turned, she pulled out her ’link to contact Feeney.
His hangdog face and mini-explosion of wiry ginger hair threaded with silver came on. Like Abernathy he wore a casual shirt—his choice of industrial beige.
She recognized the background as his office, stopped, turned on her heel. “You’re in Central.”
“Yeah. You, too.”
“I’m heading up.”
“You got better coffee. I’m coming to you.”
She pocketed her ’link. “Feeney’s in EDD. He’s coming down.”
“Protect and serve, twenty-four/seven, three-sixty-five. We need T-shirts.”
“Yeah, that’s really what we need.”
Eve went back to her office, programmed coffee for two.
Her ’link signaled. When she pulled it out, she saw Commander Whitney on the readout. She’d been expecting this.
“Commander.”
“Lieutenant. Nothing like a quiet weekend.”
“No, sir, nothing like it.”
It started to shock her system to see men she knew best in suits and ties in the casual. In Whitney’s case, it included a Giants cap over his close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair.
It just didn’t seem right.
“We had some of the grandchildren over last night. I’ve just read your report after some morning touch football. They’re ruthless,” he said with some pride. “Forty-two stolen objets d’art, which included the now-missing-again Royal Suite.”
“Yes, sir. I’ve just spoken with Inspector Abernathy of Interpol about contacting the various authorities regarding same.”
“Correct move. This property will have to be removed, today, from the crime scene to a high-security location, then authenticated.”
“Yes, sir. On my schedule to arrange that. I intend to return to the scene this afternoon and conduct follow-up interviews, and also interview the victim’s daughters, who have traveled back from college.”
He puffed out his cheeks. “I’ll handle the transfer arrangements, and the initial media release. The second can wait another day or until Monday. We want the valuables secured first.”
She’d hoped he’d say just that.
“Yes, sir. I have the room sealed, with police locks on all entrances, and uniforms on the property. The alarms have been reset, with Roarke and McNab adding another layer. I have those codes.”
“Give them to me now.”
