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“We’ll be pushing it. And we’ll be pushing the location. He’s here somewhere—in someplace plush, you bet your ass.”
She held her badge for a scan. “Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody. We’re here to talk to Joe Klein.”
ID verified. Mr. Klein has not cleared you for entry.
Authorization is required.
Eve rolled her shoulders, smiled fiercely. A workout, a swim, a new angle—and now busting electronic chops.
Not a bad start to the morning.
“Listen, you worthless piece of e-crap,” she began.
18
AFTER HER SATISFYING SMACKDOWN OF AN electronic moron, Eve rode the elevator up to seven with Peabody.
“Nicer, tighter building than, say, his friend Mal’s,” she observed. “He sells insurance, right?”
“Uncle’s firm,” Peabody confirmed. “Insurance Sales Producer. It’s a midsized operation, pretty solid. From my scan of his financials, he’s good at it. And he likes to spend those bonuses and commissions. Nest egg isn’t a term he considers.”
“Where do terms like that come from? If you leave an egg in a nest it either hatches or it doesn’t. If it hatches, it flies or crawls away, right? If it doesn’t you’ve got some stupid egg, and what good is that?”
“Um …”
“Exactly.” Eve strode off the elevator, aimed for 707.
Interesting, she noted, that Joe had installed a palm plate and a cam—not standard as the other apartments on the floor didn’t have them.
Which either made him more security conscious than his neighbors, or more into status. Maybe both.
She pressed the buzzer, unsurprised with the electronic greeting. Status primarily, she decided, and overkill in a building like this one.
Mr. Klein is currently on Do Not Disturb. You’re welcome to leave your name and a message.
“It’s Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD.” She held up her badge for the routine scan. “And my message is you’re going to disturb him. We’re here on police business. And don’t even think about giving me the runaround, or I will assume that Mr. Klein is either harboring a murder suspect or being held by same against his will. That assumption will lead me to circumvent the security of this apartment and enter.”
One moment.
“Good one,” Peabody commended. “Though technically we’d need probable cause rather than assumptions.”
“I don’t get technical with technology.”
Mr. Klein will be with you directly, Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD.
“Fine.”
Directly took a couple minutes. Eve saw the reason for the short delay when Asshole Joe opened the door. They’d obviously disturbed his beauty sleep.
His eyes, an eerie and likely enhanced green—still looked slumberous, and there was a slight sleep crease denting his right cheek. He wore loose black pants and a biceps-baring tee. His feet were bare.
“Hey, Detective.” He shot a wide, salesman’s smile at Peabody. “Sorry for the wait. I had a late night.”
He shifted his gaze, gave Eve what she assumed he thought was a flattering sure-I’d-do-you study.
“My partner, Lieutenant Dallas. We’d like to come in and talk with you.”
“Sure, but right now?” Smile still in place, he lifted his hands, his shoulders. “It’s not a good time. I’ve got … company, if you know what I mean.” He actually winked.
