Promises in Death id-34

by Nora Roberts

  “Because I want to know, Mr. Cooperation. Who drove you to your meet with Roarke?”

  “Carmine. Carmine Luca,” he added when Eve simply stared. “He’s downstairs, in an apartment I keep as staff quarters.”

  “Bring him up.”

  “I don’t understand why you want to interview my driver.”

  “You’ll understand after I do. Bring him up, or call your lawyers and tell them to meet you downtown.”

  Eyes, already cool, went to ice. “Maybe I misjudged the situation. I’ll bring him up, and we’ll see if you make me understand. Otherwise, unless you’ve got a warrant, you’re gone.”

  Alex pulled out a ’link as he pointed Eve toward the door. “Carmine, I need you up here.”

  Within minutes, the big, burly Carmine lumbered in. He had, Eve thought, a face like stone that had been battered for decades by wind and water. Tough, pitted, and blank.

  “These officers would like to ask you some questions, Carmine. Answer them, is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Ricker.”

  “When did Rod Sandy ask you about Mr. Ricker’s meeting with Roarke?”

  “I don’t know about any meeting.”

  Eve looked at Alex. “Would you like to make it clearer, or should I?”

  “Carmine, I want you to answer the lieutenant’s questions. I had a meeting with Roarke yesterday morning, on Coney Island. You drove me.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Ricker, but I thought-”

  “Don’t think,” Alex said, with a kindness in his tone Eve hadn’t expected. “I appreciate it, Carmine, but we’re just trying to clear something up. So you can answer the questions. Unless I say otherwise. All right?”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Ricker.”

  “When did Rod Sandy ask you about Mr. Ricker’s meeting with Roarke.”

  “Which time?”

  “All the times.”

  “Okay, well, he asked me about it before. Making sure and all that everything was set up. Mr. Sandy makes sure things are set up for Mr. Ricker. So I told him how it was all go, and we had the car ready, and the scanners-” He stopped, looked at Alex.

  “It’s all right.”

  “And the coffee in the mini-AC. And all like that.”

  “He asked you about it afterward, too?”

  “He asked, after, how Mr. Ricker was feeling. You know, his state of mind and stuff. And I said how it went okay, and maybe Mr. Ricker seemed a little down on the drive back. But it went okay, and there wasn’t no trouble or nothing. I said how it seemed like Mr. Ricker and Roarke got along pretty good, and how they talked awhile. He worries about you, Mr. Ricker. It’s Mr. Sandy, so I didn’t figure it was talking out of turn or nothing.”

  “It’s all right, Carmine.”

  “What else did you tell him?” Eve asked.

  Carmine’s gaze slid to Alex again, and again Alex gave the assent. “Not much to tell. We had a beer, and we were talking about the game some, and he was saying, sort of thinking out loud, like, that Mr. Ricker and Roarke would do this business deal after all. So I said, I did-n’t think it was any kind of business deal. How I didn’t catch much, ’cause you’re not supposed to listen, but the breeze carried the voices sometimes. How it seemed they were mostly talking about Miss Coltraine and Mr. Ricker’s father, and how maybe-”

  “Maybe?”

  “Mr. Ricker.”

  “Keep going,” Alex demanded, not so kindly now.

  “Well, it sounded like maybe Mr. Ricker thought his father might’ve done something. I was just talking to Mr. Sandy, Mr. Ricker.”

  “Yes, you were,” Eve said before Alex could speak. “Did you talk to him about anything else?”

  “Not really. I didn’t hear that much. I wasn’t trying to hear, I swear. I guess, now that I think about it, Mr. Sandy asked a lot of questions, and he wasn’t exactly happy I didn’t know more than I knew. I just said how at the end you and Roarke shook hands, and that was that.”

  “That’s fine, Carmine, thank you,” Alex said. “You can go back to your quarters now.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Ricker. If I did anything-”

  “You didn’t. We’re fine.”

  “One more thing,” Eve said. “Did you drive Mr. Sandy anywhere yesterday?”

  “No. I drive Mr. Ricker, unless Mr. Ricker says different.”

  “Did you or anyone drive Mr. Sandy anywhere this week?”

  “No. We only got the one car here, and I drive it. Right, Mr. Ricker?”

  “That’s right, Carmine. You can go.”

  Alex turned, walked into the living area, sat. “You think Rod’s working for my father.”

  “And you don’t?” Eve countered.

  “We’ve known each other more than a dozen years. We’re friends. Friends. He knows nearly everything there is to know about me. He knew what Ammy meant to me. You can’t expect me to believe he’s part of this.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him the details of your meeting with Roarke?”

  “It was private. Even friends don’t share everything.”

  “I’d say, from the way Sandy pumped Carmine, he doesn’t agree with that.”

  Alex pressed his fingers to his eyes. “So he was never really my friend. Just another tool. All these years.”

  “Maybe, or maybe one picked up and turned more recently.”

  “If he killed Ammy-”

  “Could he have left the apartment that night, without security picking it up?”

  “There are always ways,” Alex said. “Yes. The son of a bitch. The son of a bitch said to me, that night, he said I should go out, take a long walk, hit Times Square, get some energy from the crowds. So I did.”

  “He indicated he thought you were in the apartment all night.”

  “We lie, Lieutenant.” Alex clipped out the words. “You know that. I assumed he was covering me, so I did the same and told you I’d gone out when he was upstairs. That he didn’t know I’d gone out. Just a couple of convenient lies. I hadn’t hurt her. I would never have hurt her. So we covered each other. He set me up, my longtime friend, so I’m out walking New York, having a beer, just one more face in the crowd, while he’s killing her. For what? For what?”

  “Where would he go?”

  “A thousand places. If I knew, I swear I’d tell you. He convinced me to come to New York,” Alex explained. “To come now-for business, for her. Convinced me I needed to see her, talk with her. He knew how I felt, was feeling. I confided in him, like I would a brother. And he used it against me.”

  “I want all the data on his financials. All his financials. You understand me?”

  “Yes. You’ll have it.”

  “He takes trips, vacations, and so on without you. Time off where you wouldn’t keep tabs on him.”

  “Of course.”

  Times he could’ve visited Omega, Eve thought. “Do you know who your father has in Coltraine’s squad?”

  “No. I don’t know that he has anyone, not that I can confirm. He was always proprietary about that kind of thing.”

  “What did you and your father talk about when you visited him on Omega?”

  “Nothing that applies to this.”

  “Everything applies to this.”

  Anger flashed across his face. “Understand I’m under no obligation to answer you, or to cooperate in this matter. But I’ll tell you that I made it clear to my father I wouldn’t be back, wouldn’t communicate with him in any way. That I’d come to see him only because I wanted to look at him-this last time-and know he was exactly where I wanted him to be.”

  “And his response?”

  “He didn’t need me, or want me. He promised to bring me down, and when he was done with me I’d have nothing. As nothing was what I deserved. That was the gist.”

  Alex closed his eyes, fought for control. “What could he have offered Rod to have him do this? What could he have promised him he couldn’t have asked me for?”

  “You’re going to tell me everything you know abou
t Sandy, everything not on his official data. And you’re going to get me those financials. While you do, Detective Baxter’s going to turn his room inside out. Record on,” she ordered. “Mr. Ricker, do we have your permission to search the quarters of Rod Sandy on this premises, at this time?”

  “Yes, you do. You have my permission to search his room, my permission to hunt him down like a dog. My permission to do whatever it takes to take him down. Is that enough?”

  “It’s a good start. Baxter.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Eve sat. “Tell me about Rod Sandy.”

  16

  EVE PUSHED, SHOVED, AND BULLIED HER WAY through Saturday morning traffic. Beside her, Baxter worked furiously on the in-dash auxiliary computer.

  “We need an e-man if we want to get into some of these accounts,” he told her. “I can pull up the standard ones. No major activity over the last ten days. But the others are trickier. It’s going to take me some time.”

  “I’ve got an e-man. Recheck the transportation.”

  “He didn’t get on any public transpo out of the city, not using his legit ID. Private’s going to take longer. And private’s the way he’d go. He could’ve taken a cab or a car service out of New York and picked up a private any damn where with the lead he’s got on us.”

  “He’s got to tap one of his accounts.” There was always a trail, Eve thought, and money was the biggest breadcrumb. “And he’ll contact Ricker on Omega. He does what he’s told. He’s a drone, just a goddamn drone. He’ll follow instructions, if not direct from Ricker, then from whoever Ricker’s got working him.”

  “He panicked, left with the clothes on his back, whatever cash he had, probably some files. But the panic’s working for him.”

  “Not for long. He may get out, get away, but he’s already a dead man. Jesus, Baxter,” she said when he turned to her. “Ricker’s not going to let him run loose. His value just bottomed out. He’s worthless. We find him first or Ricker’s going to shut him down.”

  Too impatient to wait for the gates, Eve hit vertical and soared over them. Baxter said, “Yee-haw.”

  “We find which account he tapped.” Eve tore down the drive. “When he tapped it, and backtrack to where he was when he tapped it. We search on private transpo, starting in the city, working out. And we call in the locals on all of Sandy’s and all of Alex Ricker’s residences. He’ll want a place to catch his breath, to pick up more of his things. If he’s got any brains, and he does, he’ll be quick about that and he’s already gone. But we find out where he was, and we’ll start tracking where he goes from there.”

  She swung out of the car, strode up the steps.

  “You.” She jabbed a finger at the lurking Summerset. “Be useful. Contact Feeney and McNab, tell them I need them here. Now. Baxter, call in your boy,” she added as she headed upstairs.

  “You recall,” Summerset called after her, “you’re hostessing a bridal shower in approximately six hours.”

  The sound Eve made was perilously close to a scream.

  “Bridal shower?” Baxter repeated.

  “Shut up. Shut up. Never speak of it.” She rounded toward her office and nearly ran into Morris.

  Baxter pulled up short. “Ah, hey, Morris.”

  “You’ve got something,” Morris said.

  “Got someone, lost him, now we’re going to find him.” She pushed past him, then let out an oath when she saw the connecting door between her office and Roarke’s was closed. The red light over it indicated he was working.

  She’d owe him, she told herself. Big-time.

  She knocked.

  When he opened the door, irritation sparked in his eyes. “Eve. Closed door. Red light.”

  “I’m sorry, I’ll grovel later if you want it.” Beyond him she could see several suited figures. Holo-meeting, she realized, and figured the groveling would be major. “I need your help, and I’ve got a ticking clock.”

  “Ten minutes,” he said and shut the door in her face.

  “Man, am I going to pay for that. Baxter, use the auxiliary to keep on the transpo. We need to start pushing through Sandy’s friends, relatives, contacts, acquaintances, girlfriends, boyfriends, his fucking tailor. This guy’s not a loner. He’s tagged someone, somewhere.”

  “I can help.” Morris stood in the center of the room. “Let me help.”

  She gave him a quick study. He looked rested, and that was a plus. Summerset must have dug up a shirt and pants for him-somewhere. “Morris, I’m going to have to bring my murder board back in here. Can you handle that? Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll have to fill you in as we go. For now, go in there.” She gestured toward the kitchen. “Program a whole buncha coffee. It’s not just scut work. It’s necessary.”

  “I don’t mind scut work.”

  She went to her desk as he walked to the kitchen. “Computer, all known data on Rod Sandy, on screen one. Priority run authorized, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve.”

  Acknowledged. Working…

  “He gets worried,” she began as the data began to scroll. “It sets off a little tingle when Alex tells him he’s going to meet with Roarke. He’s supportive, sure, that’s his job. But he worries about it. He chews on it. Pumps the driver because he’s not sure-not a hundred percent-that something in that conversation didn’t set off a bell that rings too close to him. Can’t pry too deep with Alex, and have that bell ringing any louder. The driver’s not too bright. Loyal, but not too bright, and hey, it’s Mr. Sandy and he’s got some prime brew.”

  She paced, studying the data as she worked it through.

  “He gets enough from the driver to turn the worry up to some serious concern. What does he do next? He needs somebody to tell him what to do. Does he contact Ricker? No, no, he’s a drone. He’s a peg. There’s a food chain. Drones don’t go straight to the top. He contacts his keeper. Whoever worked with him on Coltraine. That’s what he does.”

  She angled her head. “Computer stop scroll. Look at this, how about that? Never takes the lead. Tenth in his graduating class, and there’s Alex in first. Cocaptains on the football team senior year, but look who gets MVP. Not our boy Rod, but Alex. And who has to take the VP spot to Alex’s class president? Yeah, old runner-up Rod Sandy again. Never grabs the ring, always second place. I bet he creamed his pants when Max Ricker offered him a chance to turn on his good pal Alex. I bet he wept tears of fucking joy.

  “I bet there were women, too, women he wanted that never spared him a second glance because Alex got there first. I bet Coltraine was one of them. She probably knew it, too. Sure, she’s smart, she’s self-aware. She’d know he had a thing for her. Probably felt sorry for him. He’d have to hate her for that. Helping kill her would’ve been like a bonus.”

  She turned to pace again, and saw Morris watching her. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

  “Don’t be.” He came to her with coffee, held out the mug he’d poured for her. “I’ll get your murder board for you if you tell me where it is. I see her as she was,” he added.

  “The panels over there open to a storage closet. Any time you need a break…”

  “Don’t worry about me. It’s about her.”

  “No private air transpo out of the city fitting the time frame,” Baxter announced. “Not with anyone using his ID, or anyone fitting his description. I’ll widen the circle.”

  “Do that.” She went back to her desk to work out a time line, and looked up and over when Roarke came in.

  “Groveling can wait,” he said before she could speak. “And I have specifics in mind there. But for now, what is it?”

  “I’ve got Feeney and McNab on the way. I need a detailed and deep search on Sandy’s finances. I’ve got the hideaway accounts from Alex. The ones he knows of. I figure there’s at least one more. Sandy’s gone rabbit.”

  “And any self-respecting rabbit needs funds. All right, I’ll see what I can find. But you’ll be losing yo
ur e-team at four.”

  “But-”

  “We’ll be leaving, Lieutenant, as arranged, for Vegas. Charles’s bachelor party.”

  “You guys are going to Vegas?” Baxter piped up, looking both sad and hopeful. “I know Charles.”

  Roarke smiled at him. “Would you like to go, Detective?”

  Eve literally waved her hands in the air. “Hey, hey!”

  “I’m already there. Can I bring my boy?”

  “The more the merrier.” Roarke poked a finger at Eve while she sputtered. “You’ll be busy yourself. And what we can’t find in the next few hours isn’t to be found. But, in that unlikely event, I’ll program an autosearch.”

  “I don’t see why we couldn’t just postpone the whole thing until-”

  “Of course you don’t. But you’re out-voted.”

  “Life has to be.” Morris stepped back from the board he’d set in the center of the room. “Or there’s no point.”

  “Okay, wait. Wait.” She had to think. “Until four. But if we pinpoint Sandy’s location, or something equally relevant at three-fifty-freaking-nine-”

  “We’ll cross that bridge,” Roarke finished. “Give me what you have.” He took the disc she gave him. “Feeney and McNab? We’ll use the computer lab then. Send them along when they get here.”

  As impatience rubbed against guilt, Eve strode after him. “Listen, did I screw anything up-any important anything-by interrupting?”

  “Oh, what’s a few million lost now and then in the grand scheme? I’ll try to win it back in Vegas.”

  “Oh God. Oh my God.”

  Laughing, he caught her horrified face in his hands. “I’m having you on, though I shouldn’t let you off that hook so easily. It’s fine. But annoying, so you’ll be scheduling in that groveling. Now go away. I have other things to see to, besides your e-work, before I leave.”

  Sure. Fine. She went back to work.

  “Nothing,” Baxter told her. “I checked on the All-Points. We got a couple of hits, but neither of them turned out to be Sandy. Morris did a recheck on his accounts and cards.”

  “Still no activity. I can help Baxter with the search, the transportation.”