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He seemed to consider that, as far as droids considered anything. “I have to verify your identification.”
“Go ahead.” A thin red beam shot out of his eyes as he scanned the badge on the counter. “Everything appears to be in order, Lieutenant Dallas. Ms. Pintz’s room number is 1203.”
“Does she have a roommate?”
“No. The other members of the Eternal Lights share a suite, but Ms. Pintz prefers her own quarters.”
“I bet.”
Satisfied, she walked with Roarke to the elevator. “It’s not as much fun to intimidate droids.”
“We have to take our small disappointments. Think of how you’ll enjoy interrogating Ulla.”
“Yeah.” She stepped on the elevator. “Maybe that’ll make up for it. I also could be chasing my tail by looking at this as essentially unconnected to my first murder, instead of going with the overt and obvious.”
“Trusting your instincts instead of the hard facts?”
“If I were to run a probability right now, I’m pretty damn sure I’d get high eighties that we’ve got the same killer on both.”
“And you think not.”
“I think not. I think I know who killed Jenkins. Not sure why yet.”
Eve got off the elevator, walked down to 1203. The Do Not Disturb light beamed from the door. She ignored it and knocked.
“Ulla Pintz, this is the police. Open the door.”
After several seconds of silence, Eve knocked again, gave the same command.
“Hello?” A high, quavery voice spoke through the speaker. “I’m, ah, indisposed. They said I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone until tomorrow.”
“They were wrong. You need to open the door, Ulla, or I’ll secure authorization to use my master.”
“I don’t understand.” Sniffles accompanied the words now as locks clicked off. “Samuel said we could come back, and not talk to anyone.” The door opened. “He’s a lawyer and everything.”
“I’m a cop and everything. Lieutenant Dallas,” Eve added, and deliberately said nothing about Roarke as they stepped in. “Rough night, huh, Ulla?”
“It’s so horrible.” Ulla wiped at her eyes. She’d taken off the poofy dress and wore the hotel’s white robe. She’d had enough time to remove several layers of stage makeup so her face was naked, pale, splotchy. And very young. “He died. Right in front of us. I don’t know how.”
Recognizing one who didn’t play damsel but simply was one, Roarke took her arm. “Why don’t you sit down?”
The room was small, but managed to cram in a tiny sitting area in addition to the bed. Roarke led her to a chair.
“Thank you. We’re all so upset. Jimmy Jay was so big and healthy and, and larger than life, so full of the energy of the Lord.” She made what Eve could only describe as a blubbery sound, then buried her face in a tissue. “I don’t know how he could be gone!”
“I’m working on finding out. Why don’t you tell me about your relationship with Jimmy Jay?”
As she lifted her head again, Ulla’s eyes popped wide, actually jittered. “Why do you say that? I sing. We sing. Me and Patsy and Carmella and Wanda, we’re the Eternal Lights. We make a joyful noise.”
It was late, Eve thought, and there wasn’t any point in screwing around. She sat on the foot of the bed so that her eyes were level with Ulla’s swimming ones. “We know, Ulla.”
Ulla’s gaze shot up, rolled away. Like a kid’s might when he denies snitching cookies even when his hand is stuck in the jar. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Ulla.”
When Roarke spoke before she could, Eve scowled at him. But his attention was focused on Ulla.
“Jimmy Jay would want you to tell us the truth. He needs your help. Someone killed him.”
