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“Maybe. Sometimes. Anyway, she’ll know what happened to Flores.”

Roarke smiled at her. “How much will you bargain with her for the information?”

“I won’t. Can’t. But I’ll get it.” She scooped up soup. The vegetables weren’t such a bad deal when they were disguised in noodles and a thick, zingy broth. “Yeah, he told her all of it. Pillow talk, bragging, puffing himself up. And she has to figure, what does she need him for? She can have it all if she works it right. She’s waited almost as long as he has, right? Why does she have to share it with this loser?”

“Left her once, didn’t he?” Roarke pointed out. “What’s to stop him from tossing her aside once he’s riding the money train. So she tosses him first. Permanently.”

“Plays the right tune for me. She gets him to hook her up first. If you loved me, you’d respect me. If you loved me, we’d be partners. If you loved me, you’d make sure I had security. Don’t you trust me, Lino, don’t you love me—all while probably giving him a blow job.” Eve wagged her spoon at Roarke. “Men are dicks so often because they have one.”

“I can use mine without thinking with it.”

Eve grinned over another spoonful of soup. “If I went down on you right now, you’d give me anything I asked for.”

“Try me.”

Now she laughed. “You’re just trying for a bj, and I’m working.”

Saying nothing, he took out his memo book, keyed something in. Then smiled when she cocked her head in question. “I’m just making a note that you owe me a blow job to prove your theory.”

Amused, she finished off the soup. “Okay then, if you’re going to stick, the next step is to check out the families and close ties to the fatalities and injured at the two bombings back in ’43. I’m working on the theory that Lino was behind both. I’m starting with the second, because of the eye-for-an-eye thing.”

“Because most, if not all, would have no reason to think Martinez set the boomer, on his own turf.”

“But the second,” Eve agreed. “People knew, or strongly suspected he had something to do with it. He made sure that buzz got around. Plus, the single fatality in the school bombing has no close friends or relatives left in the area. Her family moved to Barcelona three years after her death.”

“So you study the fatalities on the second, as death has more weight.”

“Your kid, brother, father, best pal, whatever, gets hurt seventeen years ago and you have a chance for payback, you find a way to hurt them back. Exposure, a good ass-whooping. But death? It’s final. Payback needs to be final, too.”

“Yes. And the law is often transitory.”

She knew he thought of Marlena again, what had been done, what he had done. His eyes came to hers.

“If I’d stepped away, if I’d never exacted payment from those who tortured, raped, murdered an innocent girl, Jenny would be alive. It ripples, and you can never know how or where they’ll spread.”

“Sometimes the law is transitory, and sometimes, even with it, those ripples spread out too far or in the wrong direction. But without the law, well, eventually, we’d all drown.”

“Some of us are excellent swimmers. I’m more inclined to believe in the face of the law, since I look at it every day, than I ever did before I saw it.” He reached in his pocket, took out the gray button that had fallen off her suit the first time they’d met. When she’d viewed him as a murder suspect. “And I have my talisman to remind me.”

It never failed to baffle her—and on a deeper level delight her—that he carried it with him, always. “What ever happened to that suit anyway?”

Humor flickered in his eyes. “It was hideous, and met the fate it deserved. This”—he held up the button—“was the best part of it.”

He was probably right. “Well. Break’s over,” she announced. “Computer, list fatalities in East 119th Street incident from Detective Stuben’s case file.”

Acknowledged. Working . . .

“There would have been others,” Roarke commented. “Other fatalities, on both sides of the war, while your victim was a captain. And therefore in charge.”

“Yeah, got that covered. Stuben’s going to get me the data by tomorrow. I don’t hit here, I’ll start looking there.”

Task complete.

“Display, screen one. Five fatalities,” Eve said. “There’s another whose injuries were severe enough I’ll need to look at. Guy lost an arm. Three of the fatalities were members of the Skulls. Of the other two, one was the manager and one was a part-time counter guy. All fatalities were minors, except the manager.”

“Four children dead.”

“Yeah. Well, two of the gang members, according to Stuben’s file, had done time in juvie, had been arrested for assault with deadly—and released when the wits failed to identify—and had been suspects in the bludgeoning death of a Soldado.”

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