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“His ring. I’d admired it before. My wife is a jeweler, so I tend to notice a good piece when I see it. It’s a wide band with alternating ribbons of white and yellow gold with a square stone. A ruby with a dragon’s head carved into it. Very distinctive. His companion had one as well, but with a sapphire. I thought at the time they were mates, and these their wedding rings.”
“This man last night had on the ruby ring.”
“Yes. I nearly remarked on it, but as he looked so different I assumed he didn’t wish to be recognized. And he indicated, quite clearly, he didn’t wish to speak with his server.”
Eve got to her feet, circled the room. “Tell me about the time you saw him before. Him, and the other man.”
“I only remember it was about a week ago. I don’t remember which evening. But I think it was early in my shift. Near seven o’clock. They had wine and hors d’oeuvres.” He smiled thinly. “And didn’t tip well.”
“How did they pay?”
“Cash.”
“What did they talk about?”
“I didn’t hear very much. They seemed to be arguing, but good-naturedly, over which of them would start the game. They were in very high spirits. And it amused me when I was taking an order from station six that the gentlemen in five were flipping a coin.”
Bryna Bankhead, Eve thought, had died on the flip of a coin. “I need you to work with an imaging tech, Jamal.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to describe him very well.”
“Let us worry about that. We appreciate your cooperation. You’ve been a really big help. Someone will contact you about the imaging.”
“All right.” He glanced at Roarke, got the nod of approval, and rose. “I hope whatever I’ve told you helps you stop him from hurting anyone else.”
“Jamal.” Roarke got to his feet. “I’ll speak to your supervisor. You’ll be paid for whatever time you need to take off to assist the police. Any lost time won’t affect your benefits or salary.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“We run the ring,” Eve snapped the minute the doors closed behind Jamal. “Every jewelry store in New York that does custom work. Order an imaging tech, priority one.”
“On it,” Peabody replied.
“Lieutenant?” Roarke’s voice stopped her before she’d taken two steps toward the door.
“What?”
“Where are you going?”
“Central, to review the security discs. See if I can spot the rings.”
“You can do that here. And on this equipment, a great deal faster. Computer, replay security disc, Royal Bar, June six, twenty-two forty-five.”
Working . . . Display selection?
“Wait a minute? You’ve got visual security on the lounge?”
“I believe in being thorough.”
She cursed under her breath. “You could’ve mentioned it.”
“Seeing it’s so much more effective. Wall screen one.”
The lounge spilled onto the screen, all opulence and color. The elegant sat at tables or glided on the dance floor while those who served them moved with seamless efficiency from table to booth, from booth to what she assumed was the kitchen.
The images sped up as Roarke manually ordered fast-forward.
“He should be coming along any . . . Ah.” He stopped the progress, froze the screen.
