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“Good for you. Want something else mega? The kind of mega that could mean another book, and sure as it’s sweaty in hell, would have Hollywood beating down your door.”
“When and where?”
“The Land Edge Marina, Battery Park. Hold on.” She glanced over as Peabody came back, held up a finger, mouthed: In an hour. “In two hours. Don’t be late.”
She clicked off.
“It is mega,” Peabody said. “I don’t mean books and vids. I mean cop mega. When I became a cop it wasn’t for cases like this. I mean, it’s hard to even imagine anybody could do what he’s done, for forty years. It makes me feel...”
“Depressed,” Eve finished. “Like he should’ve been stopped long before this. If one cop had looked right instead of left, up instead of down, had asked one more question, maybe he would have been stopped.”
“Yeah. I know some people never get caught, or they slip through because you just can’t nail the case shut. But this is... It’s been decades, Dallas. And I look at the board, and I see that college guy, a guy younger than me. He’ll never get older, never graduate or fall in love. He’d be old enough to have grandkids now, but he’s always going to be twenty.”
“He’s a good one for you to keep in your head. A good one for you to stand for in this. You remember his face and his name, Peabody, and remember he never had a chance to be older than twenty because Joel Steinburger cut off that chance. He cut it off, and he got away with it. So he cut off other chances.
“We’re going to make sure he never does it again.”
She answered her beeping ’link. “Dallas.”
“McHone. I got lucky. Found the evidence box, case book, the tagged electronics. The works. Couldn’t get it off my head after I talked to you, so I went in, started digging.”
“I owe you. Look, we’re hot here. If I could have what you found, I can get our top dog in EDD and a civilian consultant with mad skills to dig into the e-stuff. I’d appreciate getting my hands on that case book, and the rest.”
“If you find something that lets me tell Pearlman’s widow he wasn’t a coward and a thief, we’ll be square. I’ve got to push through some paperwork to clear sending this out to you, then make arrangements for secure transport.”
“I can expedite some of that. I’ll have my commander deal with the red tape, and I’ll get the transport. If you ever need anything from me, D-S McHone, just reach out.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Get Whitney to get this rolling,” she told Peabody. “I’ll get the transport moving.”
She started to contact Roarke, winced, hissed, paced to the window and back. It was wrong, she knew it, to interrupt him every time she needed something he could supply.
Maybe it was like swallowing sand, but she contacted Summerset instead.
“Lieutenant?”
“I need a fast, secure shuttle to transport two NYPSD officers to California, and bring them and sensitive evidence back to New York.”
“I see. I’ll need the exact destination, and your preferred departure center.”
“That’s it?”
“I assume you wish this transportation expedited, so yes, destination and departure centers will suffice.”
“Okay.” Still suspicious, she told him.
“Very well. Have your men at departure, with valid identification and signed authorization, of course, in thirty minutes.”
“Signed authorization from who?”
“From you, Lieutenant. As the shuttles are, always, at your disposal, the officers only require your authorization. Unless you intend to accompany them, then it won’t be necessary.”
“No, I’m not going. They’ll be there in thirty.” She swallowed more sand. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
She frowned at the blank screen on the ’link. How was she supposed to know it was that easy? If she’d known it was that easy, she could’ve contacted the transpo station herself. Still, Summerset could likely cut through it all faster anyway.
