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“He’s due in very shortly.” She offered Peabody the mango in a tall, fluted glass. “If there’s nothing else I can do for you, I’ll give you your privacy.”
She stepped out, closing the doors discreetly behind her.
“These are really good.” Peabody savored each swallow. “You should go for one.”
“We’re not here to slurp down fancy drinks.” Eve wandered the room. Despite the cutting-edge equipment, it was more luxury apartment than office. “I want the waiter’s statement before I hit Dr. McNamara. Stop guzzling that and check on Moniqua Cline’s condition.”
“I can do both.”
While she did, Eve contacted Feeney. “Give me something.”
“You been to Rikers already?”
“Come and gone. Gunn and I passed a few pleasantries during which he suggested I perform various sexual acts on myself that, however inventive, are either anatomically impossible or illegal.”
“Same old Gunn,” Feeney said, with some affection.
“Otherwise, he was a washout. He was pissed off enough to find out somebody was out there making money in his area for me to b
elieve he doesn’t know a damn thing. So give me something.”
“I told you it was gonna take time.”
“Time’s passing. One of them may have a date tonight.”
“Dallas, you know how much crap’s passed through this unit? It’s a public rental for Christ’s sake. I can’t just reach in and pluck a single user out like a frigging rabbit out of a hat.”
“You’ve got Cline’s unit. Can’t you run the crosscheck?”
“Do I look like this is my first day on the job? He didn’t play with her on this one. Not that I can find. You want me to explain what the hell I’m doing here, or you want me to do it?”
“Do it.” She started to cut off, caught herself. “Sorry,” she added, then cut off.
“No change,” Peabody told her. “She’s still critical and comatose.”
The door opened. Eve told herself she shouldn’t have been the least surprised to see Roarke walk in.
“What are you doing here?”
“I believe this is my office.” He glanced around. “Yes, I’m sure it is. Jamal, this is Lieutenant Dallas and Officer Peabody. They’re going to ask you some questions, and require your full cooperation.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Relax, Jamal,” Eve told him. “You’re not in any trouble.”
“No. This is about the woman in the coma. I saw a bulletin, and wondered if I should go to the police station or to work.” He glanced at Roarke.
“The surroundings are a bit more comfortable here,” Roarke said easily.
“So you say,” Eve muttered under her breath.
“Sit down, Jamal,” Roarke invited. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“No, sir. Thank you.”
“Would you mind,” Eve interrupted, “if I conducted this interview?”
“Not at all.” Roarke walked over, took a seat behind his desk. “And no, I’m not leaving. Jamal’s entitled to have a representative present.”
