The in Death Collection Books 11-15 - J. D. Robb [683]
She took the rest of the time to update her evidence log, sealed that as well. Then organized her thoughts.
At the knock on her door, she took a deep breath, and rose to open it for the city’s two top cops.
Chapter 19
“During the course of investigating the Greene/Wade homicides,” Eve began, “I found Greene’s financials didn’t jibe with his lifestyle. Even assuming a substantial unreported income through his alleged dealings in illegals and sexual services, purchases, and other assets accumulated over the previous year far exceeded any projected monies.”
“You assumed he had another source,” Whitney put in.
“Yes, sir. During the initial search and sweep of the premises—”
“Lieutenant.” Tibble held up a hand to stop her. “Is there a reason you’re taking us down the long road here?”
“I think my findings in this matter are going to require a solid foundation.”
“Fine. But there’s no need for the formalities. Just lay it out.”
“Yes, sir. We found a safe when we did the first pass. There wasn’t enough in it as review of the security tapes showed us three probable deals going down in his digs during the last week. He didn’t go out himself, so he wouldn’t have made any deposits. The guy dealt in cash primarily. No way he’s going to hand his take over to a teenager he found in a club and trust her to dump it into his safebox or dummy account. Had to be another cache in his place, just like there had to be another source of income. Given the type of clientele he serviced, blackmail seemed the most logical sideline.”
“You felt this assumed sideline connected with Purity?” Tibble asked her.
“It’s not enough to connect, to investigate the big picture. Each case has to be handled individually, by the numbers, or you miss details.”
Tibble nodded. “Since we’re here, I assume you didn’t miss the details.”
“I returned to Greene’s condo, with the civilian consultant. We located the second safe. I logged those contents at that time, and have updated the log as I reviewed those contents. It contained eight hundred and sixty-five thousand in cash, a code for a safebox at the Security National Bank, 88th Street branch, five data discs, and twelve video discs.”
She gestured to her desk. “All contents are logged and sealed, as is my record of their confiscation from the safe.”
“Since you’re being very cautious, Lieutenant, those contents must be hot.”
She met Whitney’s eyes. “They are. The data discs contain his underground books. He kept good records. They also contain his daily journals. His deterioration from the infection is well documented on them, demonstrating increasing pain, paranoia, anger and confusion.”
“And the vids,” Tibble said. “Blackmail?”
“Yes, sir. I did ID search and matches on the individuals recorded by Greene. There’s little doubt they were unaware they were being recorded during their activities as said activities were extremely graphic in nature. Some of the recordings take place at an as yet unknown location, others in the spare bedroom at Greene’s condo. On those vids are a number of very prominent citizens recorded in compromising, illegal, and/or embarrassing sexual situations. Among them are a criminal court judge, the wife of a college professor and vocal Conservative Party supporter who I believe I can and will connect to Clarissa Price, a well-known media personality, and the Mayor of New York.”
“Oh, Christ.” Tibble stared for a full five seconds, then pressed his fingers to his temples. “This is a confirmed ID on Peachtree?”
“Yes, sir. I recognized him, but followed up with an image scan.”
“Then it’s a fucking mess.” He dropped his hands. “All right, the idiot cheated on his wife and got recorded.”
“Sir. It’s a little more . . . involved than straight adultery.”
“Spell it out, Dallas,” Whitney said impatiently. “We’re grown-ups here.”
“He was dressed in women’s clothes and had a sweaty sexual session with another man, which included a little dominance and punishment and, um, oral gratification and consummation.