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“I’ll be sure to do that.”
Even as she turned to leave, her pocket ’link signaled. She frowned at the readout. “It’s the supervisor at Brewer. Dallas,” she said.
“Lieutenant, it’s Sly Gibbons at Brewer, Kyle, and Martini. There’s been a break-in.”
“What sort of break-in?”
“I—I came in early. I wanted to have some time... Someone’s been in Marta’s office. On her computer. Files are missing from her computer, and, and the backups, they’re gone, too. I—”
“Have you alerted building security?”
“Yes, first thing, but when they checked the discs they said there was some sort of glitch. I don’t understand it. I was the last one out of the office yesterday. I secured it myself. I don’t—”
“I’m on my way. Stay where you are, tell security I’m coming in, and I want to see all security discs.”
“Yes. Yes. I’ll be right here.”
“Tidying up,” Roarke said when she clicked off.
“Yeah. They had her keys, her codes, whatever she had in her handbag, her briefcase. Screwed with the security cams. Had to get rid of the files, probably several that don’t apply just to cover. Maybe make it look like a malfunction.”
“Not difficult, unless you look carefully.”
“Which we will. They don’t know about the copies she sent to her home unit. Unless they looked carefully. I’ve gotta go.” She contacted Denzel Dickenson first.
He looked, to her, unbearably weary.
“This is Dallas. Have you had anyone contact you or attempt to get into your apartment?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’m sending a couple of cops over, just to take a look. I don’t want you to answer the door to anyone else. Understood?”
“Yes, but—”
“Just a precaution. Are your children with you?”
“Yes. My sister’s coming over later this morning. We have to... start making arrangements.”
“Just sit tight.”
She grabbed her coat from the newel post, dragging it on as she rushed out the door.
Her car sat out front. She had to give Summerset points for putting it back, since she knew he always garaged it in the evening. Jumping in, she contacted Dispatch, arranged for the detail, then tagged Peabody.
“I need you and McNab at the vic’s office. They had a break-in. I want a geek going over her office unit. We don’t need the warrant for that now. Have him contact Feeney so he knows I’ve grabbed one of his e-men.”
“You got it. We’re on our way.”
She zipped through the gates and punched it.
Somebody’d been doing some calmer thinking, she decided, and had concluded sooner or later—most likely sooner—another accountant would be assigned to the audit. It didn’t pay to keep killing accountants. Better to get rid of the files. Then generate new ones at some point. Doctored ones, maybe. Or you’d insist the audit be conducted when the accountant in your pocket was back in business.
Or... Outrage. You’re taking your business elsewhere, or you’re going to court to demand another firm handle your audit.
The key word? Stall.
Pushing through traffic, she contacted Mira’s office, wheedled a short meeting out of Mira’s ferocious admin. Wheedling wasn’t easy, but she’d finished the job as she pulled up to Gibbons’s office building. She double-parked—screw it—and flipped on her On Duty light.
