With the arrangements made, Eve called in another black-and-white to transport Misty to Central, and to Detective Yancy, her choice of artist.
“She’s a little bit of an artist herself.” With Eve, Peabody loaded their field kits back in the trunk. “She painted the flowers on the boxes in there, and did the little pencil sketch of the cats hanging on the wall. It’s good you’re getting her out of here.”
“Her decision, Roarke’s place.”
“Still. Here come the sweepers – and the wagon.”
Eve waited, then walked over to Dawson. “Same team?”
“As requested.”
“Good, the fewer hands on this, the better. You’re going to need detox after processing that pit.” When he started to laugh, Eve shook her head. “True.”
“Crap.” He sighed, deep. “Fizz, Lottie, Charis! Hellhole time, with detox for dessert.”
There were groans as the team unloaded equipment and the full-coverage white suit of the sweeper.
“I’m calling in a handwriting analyst.”
His mouth thinned. “Another message for you?”
“That’s right.”
“I’ll tag Jen – Jen Kobechek. She’s the best we’ve got.”
“That’ll save me time. Appreciate it.”
“Gotta take care of each other.” He signaled to his crew. “Let’s sweep it out.”
Eve walked back, got into the car.
“You’re going to tell me we’re going underground,” Peabody began.
“Maybe not. Carmine Atelli owns Gametown. We dealt with him briefly when we went down for Ledo a couple years ago. He has a place in the Hudson Towers.”
“Swank.”
“A nest of rabid rats is swank compared to the underground.” Eve slid into traffic. “He’s more likely home this time of day than below, so we’ll check it. But we’re going to make another stop first.”
As it was still shy of nine, Eve tried Hilly Decker’s apartment first. The slapdash, post-Urbans triple-decker needed a face-lift, but it held its own in a neighborhood of struggling-to-claw-up-to-middle-income housing and shops.
Inside it smelled faintly of someone’s breakfast burrito. The inhuman wail of a baby rattled the walls of the first floor.
“Why do kids always make that sound? Like somebody’s stabbing them in the ear?”
“It’s about all they got,” Peabody told her. “Something hurts, they’re hungry or just pissed off, all they got is crying.”
“Strikes me they’re just pissed off most of the time.”
The sound eased slightly on the second level, or was drowned out more by someone playing a morning talk show at ear-thumping volume.
Eve banged a fist on 2-A.
No cam, she noted, no palm plate, but an electronic peep and good sturdy locks.
“Hold on, Mrs. Missenelli!”
The door wrenched open. Hilly Decker stood, one stubby-heeled half boot in her hand, the other on her left foot. She wore a black skirt and vest with a pale blue shirt under it. Several big silver clips stuck haphazardly through her brown hair.
Her eyes, the color of kiwis, popped wide.
“You’re not Mrs. Missenelli! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!”
She ran the words together into one hysterical squeal, dropped the boot, bounced up and down. “Oh my GOD! You’re Eve Dallas. You’re her. Here. You’re here.”
“We need to speak with you, Ms. Decker.”
“Oh my God, I just have to hug you.” As Hilly lurched forward, arms out, Eve put both her hands up.
“No,” she said, definitely.
“Right, right, sorry. God. You’re not a hugger. I know, I’m just so excited. Oh my God. My heart’s racing. You should feel my heart. Do you want to? No. Sorry. Oh my God.”
Peabody elbowed in. “Can we come in, Ms. Decker?”
“Oh God, yes. Please. I know you, too. Peabody! Is it just amazing working with Eve Dallas? Is it just like ultra-abso-mag?”
“I’m living the dream.” Somewhat concerned Eve might punch if Hilly lost her mind and tried for another hug, Peabody insinuated herself between them. “Maybe we could sit down.”
“Oh yeah, sure! Is the place a mess? It’s not too bad,” she decided, rushing around on one shoe, fluffing pillows. “It could be worse. It has been worse, especially when Luca was around. My ex?” She beamed at Eve. “Remember, I told you about him.”
“Sit,” Eve ordered.
“Okay.” Hilly sat, obedient as a puppy and twice as frisky. “I feel like I’m jumping out of my own skin, and…” She waved her hands in front of her face, blinking rapidly. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry when I finally met you, and here I go anyway. This is just the best day of my life!”
“Where were you at six this morning?”
“What? Sleeping. Oh, I should get you coffee! I don’t have the kind you drink. I can’t afford it, but I tried it once just to see. It’s seriously ulta. I’ve got Pepsi, though. I can get you a tube of Pepsi.”
“Sit,” Eve ordered again when Hilly jumped up. “Were you alone – at six this morning?”
“Oh yeah. I haven’t been interested in anybody since Luca. After we broke up, I asked myself: What would Eve do? It really helps me to think things through that way. WWED! And I thought, Well, Eve would sit back, take some stock, just live life, you know?”
Radiating joy, she hugged herself.
“I was getting upset you never wrote me back, but here you are. Right here. I don’t know how many times I walked by Central and tried to drum up the courage to go in, see you. I just knew if we ever got the chance to just talk, we’d totally click. Like, you know, sisters.”
“December twenty-seventh, between five and seven in the evening. Where were you?”
“When was that?”
“Two days ago,” Peabody said helpfully. “Two days after Christmas.”
“Oh, right! My mind’s just blown! I was right here. Recovery time from Christmas, you know? I had to go see the fam – three days of fam – and that takes it out of me. Our offices are closed this week, so I had the day off work. I’m only going in today because I have a court thing. So I just hung here, watched screen. We could go out tonight, totally have drinks.
“The Blue Squirrel!” she announced, inspired. “Do you still hang there? I’ve been a few times, but never saw you.”
“Did you see or speak to anyone?”
“When?”
“December twenty-seventh, between five and seven.”
“No. Did I? I don’t know. Who remembers?”
Eve leaned forward. “Think about it.”
“Oh well, okay, if that’s what you want. Um… Oh, that must be Mrs. Missenelli. She’ll die to meet you. I’ve told her all about you.”
When Hilly sprang up to rush to the door, Eve squeezed her eyes tight.
“Mother of God,” she muttered.
“She’s still wearing one shoe,” Peabody pointed out. “No way, Dallas, no way this is the crafty, controlled, organized killer.”
“Mrs. Missenelli, and Toby.” All smiles and shiny eyes, Hilly came back holding an enormous and fluffy white cat and towing a tiny woman with a helmet of shoe-black hair. “This is Eve Dallas.”
“Metcha,” the woman said, and looked mildly annoyed.
“Can you believe it? Can you believe she’s here?”
“I’m dumbfounded. You’re gonna drop Toby by the groomer’s, right, Hilly?”
“Sure, sure, on my way to court. I’ve got to be in court by ten, but I’ve got plenty of time to visit first,” she told Eve, “and get Toby to the groomer’s. It’s right on the way. Do you want to hold him? You have a cat.”
“No. Thanks.”
“Toby should meet Galahad. I bet they’d be best friends, too.” Hilly snuggled the giant cat. “We were just talking about how we spent the day after the day after Christmas, Mrs. Missenelli.”
“Between five and seven in the evening,” Eve repeated. “December twenty-seventh. Did you see or speak to anyone during that window of time?”
“I don’t know.”
“You saw me, you spoke to me. Jumping Jesus, Hilly, your brain’s always scattered. Don’t know how you get yourself up every day.”
Missenelli fisted her hands on bony hips. “I came over here, asked you about Toby and the groomer’s. Right about six o’clock, because Mr. Missenelli was watching his show, and it comes on at six. And you still in your pajamas – nice ones though, like I said.”
“From my aunt, for Christmas.”
“You had a glass of wine, and you said I should have one, and since I hate Mr. Missenelli’s six o’clock show, I did. Now, you make sure Toby gets to the groomer’s. I appreciate it. You’re a good girl, Hilly.” Missenelli arrowed back at Eve. “Now what’s all this about?”
“Routine,” Eve said.
“Don’t hand me that. This is about that dead lawyer lady, isn’t it? I heard about that.”
“Bastwick?” Hilly’s eyes popped again. “Leanore Bastwick? You’re here about… murder. But, but, but, I didn’t even know her. I thought – I thought you came just to meet me, and talk. And we’d – we’d – we’d hang out. Am I a suspect? Oh my God.”
“Not anymore,” Eve said.
When Hilly burst into tears, hovered over by Mrs. Missenelli, who sent Eve the serious stink eye, Eve got out.
“I think you broke Hilly’s heart.”
“Oh, you’re funny, Peabody. I’m cracking up inside.”
She strode out, got back in the car with a headache throbbing like a tooth. “?‘Living the dream’?”
“Day in, day out,” Peabody said cheerfully.
“Dreams can become nightmares really fast,” Eve warned, and bulleted away from the curb.