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She’d read all this in the book, but let Trueheart wind it out.

“One thing he swears on is she didn’t come back down. If he didn’t check them off when they came down, how could he turn the room? He gets paid on the turn. So he swears she didn’t come back by the desk, and you can’t get out the front without going by the desk. The fire escape was engaged. She had to go out through the window and down. And the scene, it was full of prints and DNA, fiber, hair. It’s not the kind of place where housekeeping’s a priority. We ran everything, interviewed everyone when we could find a match and locate the individual. Nobody stands out.”

She started to speak, held off as Baxter hurried up to join his aide. “This about Custer?”

“I’ve reviewed the book. It’s a thorough investigation so far.”

“Without a single suspect.”

“You’re not looking at the wife.”

“She’s alibied up, Dallas, literally on her house ’link trying to reach the vic when he was being sliced. Trueheart and I were the ones to notify. She wasn’t faking her reaction.”

“No like crimes before or after, not following this pattern. It smells target specific.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“So who benefits?”

Baxter raked his fingers through his hair. “Okay, the wife gets rid of a guy who cheats and may be bringing home an all-you-can-eat buffet of STDs, and who tunes her up when the whim strikes. She comes into a pension and life insurance policy through his employment. Not princely, but solid. But she wasn’t there, that’s a fact. The vic wasn’t going to go into that flop with his wife when he hunted strange. And he’d’ve recognized her. She’s three inches over five feet so she’s not tall enough or strong enough to have made the cut.”

“Maybe she knew somebody who was. A relative, a friend, somebody who thought she was better off with the cheating, heavy-handed husband dead. And she is.”

“She’s got a sister down in Arkansas, a father doing a dime on assault with intent down there, and who used to knock his wife around. Her mother’s in New Jersey, but believe me, she couldn’t have pulled this off either. As for friends, she doesn’t have anybody she’s tight with. Sure as hell not tight enough to slit her husband’s throat for her.”

“A boyfriend. The killer skews tall and strong for a female.”

“Working a team.” Baxter’s eyes changed as he considered. “Guy’s already in the bathroom, she brings the mark in…Then why doesn’t she just go out the front? Why—”

“Lots of whys,” Eve interrupted. “Who says he went up there with a woman?”

Tr

ueheart cleared his throat. “Um, everybody, sir.”

“And did everybody see the killer’s plumbing? You’ve seen enough trannies, Baxter, to know how pretty they are when they’re on the stroll. If you’re not looking close enough, if you’ve had a few brews under your belt, a guy could find a big surprise when he reaches into the box. Everybody sees a woman, so you’re looking for a woman.”

“And don’t I feel stupid,” Baxter mumbled. “I never made the lateral move to male possibility.”

“Wife’s got a secret admirer, he might be man enough to dress like a woman.”

“Sir? Lieutenant?” Trueheart nearly raised his hand. “It’s hard to see how Mrs. Custer could’ve had a relationship, a boyfriend. She’s got those kids, and none of her neighbors reported seeing anyone visiting her apartment regularly. We looked at that, because you have to, but we didn’t find anything that indicated she had a boyfriend.”

“A woman with a husband who likes to use his fists learns to be a careful woman.” Eve glanced back at her own murder board. “And maybe I’m letting some of my own investigation bleed over into my thoughts on yours.” She swiveled back, held out the murder book. “You’ve got two fresher cases open, but find time to poke at the boyfriend angle, and the doing her a favor.”

“Since we’d run out of angles, I appreciate it. Come on, faithful sidekick.” Baxter dropped a hand on Trueheart’s shoulder. “Let’s go think about men in dresses.”

She toggled her mind back to her own case, checked her incomings and her messages. The lab in its better-late-than-even-more-late mode verified what Roarke had already told her. Voice print match. Rising, she added that report to her board.

“Good morning!” Bright, bouncing, and beaming, Peabody sang out the greeting and shook a pink bakery box. “I’ve got crullers.”

“And you got through the bullpen alive?”

“I bought two boxes, tossed one at the rioting horde as I came through.”

“That’s not stupid.”

“I would’ve come back before, but you were with Baxter and Trueheart, and I was collecting my kudos.”

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