He opened a door, ushered them into the area where Tibble and Whitney waited.
Tibble, tall, built, with his air of authority, stepped over. “Lieutenant,Detective.” He shook their hands. “Are there any further details since your last report?”
“Nothing to disclose to the media, sir. Chief, Commander, I would ask that there’s no mention of the unidentified woman Detective Peabody and I are looking for. Or any mention of Detective Yancy working with the staff at Barrister House on a possible artist’s rendering. I include Inspector Abernathy in that request. I would prefer to update him there personally following the media conference.”
“Are there reasons for leaving Interpol out of this loop at this time? Reasons,” Whitney continued, “you didn’t copy the inspector on the report with that information?”
“I intended to inform him, as I will, after this is over. I kept it in my pocket for the simple reason I wasn’t altogether confident the inspector was sharing with the NYPSD. I’ve confirmed that, as a reputable source has informed me Abernathy is coordinating with a task force formed to further investigate the original thefts, most prominently the Royal Suite.
“It’s possible he, and they, are holding back information that could help in our investigation of Nathan Barrister’s murder.”
Whitney’s lips thinned as he nodded. “So” was all he said.
“Handle that as you see fit, Lieutenant,” Tibble told her. “I want a report of the outcome as soon as possible. When I have your report, I’ll have a conversation with the inspector’s superiors.”
“I’m not looking to jam him up, sir. He’s good at the job, and he’s been helpful and cooperative in the past.”
“Such as when you handed him an escaped prisoner, a terrorist from the Urbans?”
“I put him onto the accomplice in that escape, but he did the work. I’m not looking to jam him up with his boss.”
After a moment, Tibble nodded. “Handle it your way, and get back to me.”
“Yes, sir.”
Moments later, Kyung escorted in Abernathy.
He’d gone with a black suit, a red tie—there’s the flash.
When he stepped over to shake hands, she saw clearly he enjoyed all this. It didn’t make him a bad cop; she knew he wasn’t. But it did make him at least a little bit of an asshole.
She already knew he was.
“Your EDD and their counterparts at Interpol feel a strong level of confidence they’ll have solid data on an auction within twenty-four hours.”
He turned to Eve, and the faintest hint of sarcasm came out in that high-toned Brit voice. “I’m informed Roarke will be assisting in his capacity of expert consultant.”
“That’s Feeney’s call.”
“Of course.”
“None of that is information we want to share with the media at this time.” Whitney kept his voice, and his gaze, flat and level. “It could compromise their work.”
“Oh, absolutely understood. Our priority is the recovery of the Royal Suite. In doing so, we’re laser focused on identifying and apprehending all those responsible for its theft and this resulting auction.”
He glanced at Eve again. “And, of course, assisting you and the NYPSD in apprehending Nathan Barrister’s killer.”
“If you’re ready?” Kyung gestured.
“I want to talk to you after this,” Eve told Abernathy as they started toward the media center. “Some updates.”
“Excellent. I’m at your disposal.”
She stood between Abernathy and Peabody, in front of a packed room where cameras and recorders already ran, and the light hit just bright enough to add yet more blooms to her headache.
Kyung introduced everyone, by rank, explained questions were to be held until after the statements.
Tibble gave his, brief, concise, emphasizing the NYPSD’s determination to identify and apprehend Nathan Barrister’s killer. He spoke of coordinated efforts between the NYPSD and the international police, assurances that all items found had been securely transferred and authenticated, and the process of returning them was well underway.
