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Nadine pursed her lips and got that reporter’s gleam in her eye. “How?”
“The how’s up to me and the NYPSD. The lure’s up to you. He tried to take me and Peabody out once. I’m saying he’ll try again, and I’m going to set the time and place.”
“Tomorrow night, at Five Star Theater.”
“It’s probable he knows I’ll be there. I want to remind him, toss it in his face, and give it some gloss so the idea of taking me down there is irresistible.”
“You talking about the gloss, the glitz, the glam?” Angling her head, Nadine gave Eve a dubious study. “It’s going to come off out of character.”
“You play up that end. I’m about looking forward to seeing the investigation I headed hit the screens. You could ask—”
“Uh-uh.” Nadine held up a finger, wagged it back and forth. “If I’m going to run this, we play by the rules. I can’t lay it all out for you, practice what I say, you say. It’s an interview or it’s not.”
“Okay. That’s fair.”
“And if this interview helps you catch your killer, you come on Now, do a segment.” Nadine ticked her finger again before Eve could object. “That’s fair, too. I’m going to have to juggle to get this—what by all appearances is a fluff piece—on air tonight.”
“Fine. Done. Deal.”
It didn’t take long. Nadine angled Eve at the office window in a way that would give the illusion, on screen, of a bigger space, and a wide view of the city.
“Lieutenant Dallas,” Nadine began, “are you looking forward to the premiere of The Icove Agenda tomorrow evening?”
“I am. It was a difficult case, a far-reaching case. The kind that sticks with you as a police officer. I’m very curious to see how the vid interprets reality.”
“You had very little involvement in the production, by your own choice.”
“I figure people like Mason Roundtree don’t tell me how to run a murder investigation, and I won’t tell them how to create a vid. I want to see how it turned out, how it angles. Your book got it right. I’m pretty confident the vid based on it will, too.”
“Thanks. While you’ve been known to attend glamorous events as Roarke’s wife in the past, this event centers on you.”
“On the case,” Eve said, instantly and obviously uncomfortable.
“On which you were primary. How do you feel about that end of it? The red carpet, the fashion—and commentary—the celebrities?”
And it would be out of character, she realized, to pretend any excitement or interest in fashion and glitz.
So she’d play it straight.
“The actors are just people doing a job as far as I can see. From what I saw when I visited the set, they did a good job. Actually, I just spoke with Marlo Durn today, and look forward to seeing her and the rest of the cast and crew tomorrow night.”
“Rumor has it you’ll be wearing something designed especially for you and the event, by your favored designer, Leonardo. Any hints on the dress for our audience?”
Eve was reasonably sure Nadine could have held a stunner to her throat and she wouldn’t be able to describe the dress. “I’ll only say Leonardo’s favored for a reason. He never misses, so all I have to do is put on what he makes. Tomorrow—well, it’s sort of a fantasy, isn’t it? Fancy clothes, fancy people, red carpets, theater, a major vid. It’s a break from what I do every day, a chance to step into the fantasy for one night before going back to the reality of the next case.”
Nadine pitched a couple more soft balls, changed the camera angle, then wrapped.
“That’ll work. Not bad, Dallas.”
“The more air it gets, the better.”
“I’ll do what I can do.”
Satisfied with that, Eve gathered what she needed to set up a briefing, walked out to Peabody. “Anything from EDD or Yancy?”
“Not yet.”
“Let’s get set up.”
