“Same day Fabian Beauvais made his planetarium plunge. Same night Jeanne Capois bought it.” added Ochoa.
His partner said, “You are correct, sir. Neighbors didn’t know where she went, so I spent the day tracking Opal Onishi’s jobs over the past few years. Turns out she’s an NYU film school grad. She started as a gopher at Food Network on Iron Chef and moved up to her current position hauling equipment for Location Location. That’s an AV company in Astoria that rents sound and camera gear to movie and TV shoots around the city.”
“Why do you suppose Jeanne Capois would be carrying Onishi’s address around?” asked Heat.
“Housekeeping job, maybe?”
“From somebody humping an hourly-wage gig?” said Feller. “Doubtful.”
Raley shrugged. “I dunno. Be nice to ask Opal Onishi. But I called her boss. He told me she hasn’t come in all week.”
Heat said, “Go over there first thing tomorrow and talk to her coworkers and friends. And, Sean? Nice job.” He acknowledged the shout-out, but barely. Body language told her that he and Ochoa were still peeved. “Miguel, you’re up.”
“Trying to chase down the two dudes from the ATM crew that shot—sorry. Shot at—Beauvais.” It sounded like an honest slip, and may have been, but when Ochoa dropped that preposition it resonated palpably in light of the hour’s developments. Nikki wondered how many more blows she could absorb, and just wanted to get home to be with Rook and start fresh in the morning.
He pressed on. “Both still at large. Thug-One, Mayshon Franklin, has no active warrants, so he’s not getting a lot of love. However, Thug-Two, Earl Sliney, is still a wanted fugitive for his home invasion murder. His case got kicked up to New York State Police Bureau of Criminal Investigation. I got the name of the BCI detective holding the jacket. We ended up trading calls and e-mails.” Ochoa slid the cuff back off his watch. “We finally set a time for a call this evening, so I expect I’ll have my what’s-the-what before too long.”
Detective Rhymer shared his day in the Bronx at the various apartments of the three men from Heat’s hit squad. “All three sort of lived in the same block on Bathgate, so it made it easier to cover the venues simultaneously.”
“Bite me,” said Feller. “I spend half my life on bridges and the other half in tunnels. Opie gets one-stop shopping for three crime scenes.” The others chuckled, but Rhymer seemed preoccupied.
“What you holding, Detective?” asked Heat.
“I made a progress check with CSU when you were in the captain’s office on your…um, call. First off, at Stan Victor’s place—he’s the lucky fella you got with the nail gun—they found an index card with the home invasion address on West End Avenue where Jeanne Capois worked as the housekeeper and where they killed the old stockbroker.” He paused and kept his face to his notes. “They also found your addresses, both here and at your home in Gramercy Park. And a list of your habitual spots. Rook’s loft, your gym, your Starbucks.”