The In Death Collection Books 6-10 - J. D. Robb [169]
Peabody shoehorned her way out, and caught up with Eve’s long strides on the corner. The wind rushed down the street like a river through a canyon and turned the tip of her nose pink before they’d managed a block.
“I hate this shit,” Eve muttered. “Half these people don’t even live here. They come in from all over hell and back to clog the streets every damn December.”
“And drop a nice ton of money in our economy.”
“Cause delays, petty crime, traffic accidents. You try to get uptown at six o’clock some night. It’s ugly.” Scowling, she walked through the roasting meat–scented steam of a corner glide-cart.
A shout had her flicking her glance to the left in time to see a scuffle. She lifted a brow in mild interest as a street thief on airskates toppled a pair of women, snatched what bags he could reach, snagged both purses, and skimmed away through the crowd.
“Sir?”
“Yeah, I’ve got him.” Eve noted his grin of triumph as he weaved through the crowds of people, gaining speed as they leaped out of his path.
He ducked, swiveled, dodged, then veered around toward Eve’s right. Their eyes met for one brief second, his bright with excitement, hers flat and level. She pivoted and took him out with one short-armed, back-fisted punch. Had there been less of a crowd, she thought he would have sailed nicely for ten feet or so. Instead he barreled back into a group of people, upended with his skates still humming and facing the sky.
Blood gushed out of his nose. His eyes rolled back white.
“See if you can get a beat cop in here to take care of this jerk.” Eve flexed her fingers, rolled her shoulder, then absently put one booted foot on the thief’s midriff as he began to moan and squirm. “You know what, Peabody? I feel a lot better now.”
• • •
Later, Eve thought busting the thief had been the high point of her day. She didn’t learn squat from the jeweler. Neither he nor his sour-faced clerk remembered anything about the customer who’d paid cash for the partridge pin. It was Christmas, the jeweler had complained, even while his clerk rang up sales with the speed and precision of an accounting droid. How was he supposed to remember one transaction?
Eve suggested he think harder, and contact her when his memory cleared. Then ended up buying a copper ear chain for Mavis’s lover, Leonardo—much to Peabody’s disgust.
“You catch some transpo, go back to the house, and work with McNab.”
“Why don’t you just punch me in the face with a bare fist?”
“Handle it, Peabody. I’m going into Central. I’ll need to give Whitney an update, and I want to see Mira, start her working on a profile.”
“Maybe you’ll pick up a few more Christmas presents on the way.”
Eve stopped by her car. “Was that sarcasm?”
“I don’t think so. It was too direct for sarcasm.”
“Find me a match on those lists, Peabody, or we start interviewing lonely hearts.”
Eve left Peabody elbowing her way toward Sixth to catch a maxibus uptown. She engaged her ’link as she headed in the opposite direction, and set up the two meetings.
She scanned the incoming, listened to Nadine’s harried voice, and decided to give the reporter a break. “Stop whining, Nadine.”
“Dallas, Christ, where have you been?”
“Keeping the city safe for you and yours.”
“Look, there’s just enough time to plug something into my noon report. Give me a line here.”
“I just busted a mugger on Fifth.”
“Don’t be droll, I’m up against the wall. What’s the connection between the two murders?”
“Which two murders? We got a lot of bodies this time of year. Christmas brings out that wacky holiday spirit.”
Nadine snarled audibly. “Hawley and Greenbalm. Come on, Dallas. Two women strangled. I’ve got that much. You’re primary on both. I hear there was sexual molestation. Will you confirm?”
“The department will not confirm or deny at this time.”
“Rape and sodomy.”
“No comment.”
“Damn it, why the hardball?”
“I don’t have