The In Death Collection Books 6-10 - J. D. Robb [608]
“Dead out, sir. You knocked her cold.”
“Go find something to stuff in that dog’s mouth before I use my foot.”
“He’s just a little dog,” Peabody murmured and went to search out the kitchen.
“Too many numbers,” Eve said to herself. “The pool’s too damn deep for a nice little betting parlor. Loan-sharking. Yeah, I bet we got some loan-sharking here, and where you got sharks, you’ve got spine crackers. What else, what else?”
She turned, saw Peabody cooing to the dog and holding out a biscuit of some kind. Eve slipped out her pocket-link and called the one person she knew who could cut through the ocean of numbers and ride the right wave.
“I need Roarke a minute.” She hissed it to his assistant when she came on-screen. “Just one quick minute.”
“Of course, Lieutenant. Hold please.”
“There’s a sweet little dog, there’s a nice little doggie. Aren’t you pretty?”
Instead of razzing Peabody over the baby talk, Eve left her at it.
“Lieutenant.” Roarke’s face filled the screen. “What can I—” Instantly his easy smile vanished, and his eyes were bright and hard. “What happened, how badly are you hurt?”
“Not much. Mostly it’s somebody else’s blood. Look, I’m in a private betting parlor, and something’s off. I’ve got some ideas, but take a quick look, give me your take.”
“All right, if your next stop is a health center.”
“I haven’t got time for a health center.”
“Then I haven’t time for a consult.”
“Goddamn it.” She was tempted just to cut transmission, but took a steadying breath instead. “Peabody’s going to get the first aid kit. I got a couple of scratches, that’s all. I swear.”
“Turn your head to the left.”
She rolled her eyes but complied.
“Get them seen to.” He snapped it out, then shrugged as if in acceptance. “Let me see what you’re looking at.”
“Lots of numbers. Different games,” she began as she turned her unit so that he’d have her view. “Arena ball, baseball, the horses, the droid rats. I think the third screen from the right is—”
“Overdue loans on bets. Interest compounded well above legal limits. The screen directly below is outlay, for loan collection. On the screen beside that, you have what looks like private games—casino style. Look on your console, see if you find a control that’s linked to that screen. If it’s simple, it’ll be something like 3-C, for the placement of the screen in the grid.”
“Yeah, here.”
“Give it a flip. Ah,” he said as the screen switched to monitor and played a busy casino, full of smoke and tables and glassy-eyed patrons. “What kind of building are you in?”
“Loft, West Village, two levels, four units.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the other level isn’t very busy at this moment.”
“This area isn’t zoned for gambling.”
“Well then.” He grinned at her. “Shame on them.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
“My pleasure, Lieutenant. See to that injury, Darling Eve, or I’ll be seeing to it myself first chance. I won’t be happy with you.”
He cut her off before she could make some snippy remark, which she figured was just as well. She turned and caught Peabody, the little white dog nestled in her arms, watching her with speculation.
“He knows a lot about illegal gambling runs.”
“He knows a lot about legal ones, too. He gave us a lever with Maylou here. Do you care how or why?”
“No.” Peabody rubbed her cheek on the dog’s fur, smiled. “It’s just interesting. You going to bust the operation?”
“That’s going to depend on Maylou here.” Eve rose as the woman began to moan and stir. She made bubbling sounds, coughed, then began to buck, her enormous butt humping up, her surprisingly small feet kicking.
Eve simply crouched down. “Assaulting an officer,” she began in an easy voice. “Resisting arrest, loan-sharking, spine cracking, running an illegal gambling facility. How’s that for starters, Maylou?”
“You broke my nose.”
At least that’s what Eve assumed she said as the words were muffled and slurred. “Yep, looks like.”
“You have to call the MTs. It’s the law.”
“Interesting, you refreshing me on the law. I think we can hold off on the broken nose a