Around them were smaller counters with more perky, toothy men and women in snappy suits, three waiting areas with cushy-looking chairs, equipped with screens for passing the time with magazines or short vids, and a little, tastefully planted garden with its own tiny blue pool.
Bouncy, repetitive music danced through the air at a discreet volume.
Eve decided she’d be in a padded room for mental defectives in under a week if she worked under similar conditions.
She walked to the main counter over a springy silver carpet. “Chad Dix.”
“Mr. Dix is on forty-two.” The beaming brunette tapped her screen. “I’ll be happy to have one of his assistants escort you. If I might have your name, and the time of your appointment?”
Eve laid her badge on the glossy red counter. “Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD. And I’d say my appointment is now. We can get up to forty-two ourselves, thanks, but you might want to tell Mr. Dix we’re on our way.”
“But you have to be cleared for the elevator.”
Eve picked up her badge, wiggled it back and forth. “Then you’d better take care of that.” She pocketed the badge and strode to the bank of elevators with Peabody.
“Can I be bitch cop next time?” Peabody whispered as they waited for the doors to open. “I really need to practice.”
“Seems to me if you need to practice, it’s not a true calling, but you can take a shot.” She stepped onto the elevator. “Forty-two,” she demanded. And leaned back on the side wall as the car whisked them up. “Take the assistant they’re going to toss in our way.”
“Hot dog.” Peabody rubbed her hands together. Then rolled her shoulders, circled her neck.
“Definitely not a true calling,” Eve muttered, but let Peabody lead when the doors opened on forty-two.
This floor was no less opulent than the other, though the color scheme was electric blue and silver rather than red. The waiting areas were bigger, with the addition of wall screens tuned to various financial programs. This information station was the size and shape of a small wading pool, but there was no need to bother with it as the assistant clipped hurriedly through the double glass doors that slid soundlessly open at her approach.
This one was blonde with the sunshine hair done in a mass of corkscrew curls that spilled and spun around her head like a halo. She had pink lips and cheeks and a body of impressive curves tucked snugly into a narrow skirt and jacket the color of cotton candy.
Not wanting to miss her chance, Peabody stepped forward, flipped her jacket open. “Detective Peabody, NYPSD. My partner, Lieutenant Dallas. We need to speak to Chad Dix regarding an investigation.”
“Mr. Dix is meeting with a client, but I’d be happy to review his schedule and clear some time for you later today. If you could give me some idea of the nature of your business, and how much time you’ll require.”
“The nature of our business is murder, and the time we require will depend entirely on Mr. Dix.” Peabody dipped her head, lowered her eyebrows in a stern look she enjoyed practicing in the bathroom mirror. “If he feels unable to meet with us here and now, we’ll be happy to take him downtown and hold our meeting there. You can come with him,” Peabody added.
“I… If you’ll give me just a moment.”
When she scurried off, Peabody elbowed Eve. “ ‘Our business is murder.’ I thought that was good.”
“It didn’t suck.” She nodded as the blonde came bustling back. “Let’s check the scores.”
“If you’ll come with me, Mr. Dix will see you now.”
“I thought he would.” Peabody started to saunter after her.
“Don’t rub their noses in it,” Eve muttered. “It’s tacky.”
“Check.”
They moved through a fan-shaped hallway to the wide end and another set of double doors. These were opaque and opened when the assistant tapped.
“Detective Peabody and Lieutenant Dallas, Mr. Dix.”
“Thank you, Juna.”
He was behind a U-shaped workstation with the requisite window-wall at his back. His office suite had a luxurious sitting area with several wide chairs and a display shelf holding a number of antique games and toys.
He wore a stone-gray suit with muted chalk stripes, and a braided silver chain under the collar of his snowy white shirt.
“Officers.” His expression sober, he gestured toward chairs. “I assume this has something to do with the tragedy at Samantha Gannon’s. I heard about it last night on a media report. I haven’t been able to reach Samantha. Are you able to tell me if she’s all right?”
“As much as can be expected,” Eve answered. “You also knew Andrea Jacobs?”
“Yes.” He shook his head and sat behind his desk. “I can’t believe this happened. I met her through Samantha. We socialized quite a bit while Samantha and I were seeing each other. She was… It probably sounds cliched, but she was one of those people who are just full of life. The reports are vague, even this morning. There was a burglary?”
“We’re in the process of verifying that. You and Ms. Gannon are no longer seeing each other?”
“No, not romantically.”
“Why is that?”
“It wasn’t working out.”
“For whom?”
“Either of us. Sam’s a beautiful, interesting woman, but we weren’t enjoying ourselves together any longer. We decided to break it off.”
“You had the codes to her residence.”
“I… ” He missed a beat, quietly cleared his throat. “Yes. I did. As she had mine. I assume she changed them after we broke up-as I changed mine.”
“Can you tell us where you were on the night in question?”
“Yes, of course. I was here, in the office until just after seven. I had a dinner meeting with a client at Bistro, just down on Fifty-first. Juna can give you the client’s information, if you need it. I left the restaurant about ten-thirty and went home. I caught up on some paperwork for an hour or so, watched the media reports, as I do every night before I turn in. That must have been nearly midnight. Then I went to bed.”
“Can anyone verify this?”
“No, not after I left the restaurant, in any case. I took a cab home, but I couldn’t tell you the number of the cab. I wouldn’t have any reason to break into Sam’s house and steal anything, or for God’s sake kill Andrea.”
“You’ve had some substance-abuse problems over the years, Mr. Dix.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I’m clean, and have been for a number of years. I’ve been through rehabilitation programs and continue to go to regular meetings. If necessary, I’ll submit to a screening, but I’ll want legal representation.”
“We’ll let you know. When’s the last time you had contact with Andrea Jacobs?”
“A couple of months, six weeks ago, at least. It seems to me we all went to a jazz club downtown this summer. Sam and I, Andrea and whoever she was seeing at the time, a couple of other people. It was a few weeks before Sam and I called things off.”
“Did you and Ms. Jacobs ever see each other separately?”
“No.” His tone took on an edge. “I didn’t cheat on Sam, certainly not with one of her friends. And Andrea, as much as she enjoyed men, wouldn’t have poached. That’s insulting on every level.”
“I insult a lot of people, on every level, in my work. Murder doesn’t make for nice manners. Thanks for your cooperation, Mr. Dix.” Eve rose. “We’ll be in touch if there’s anything else.”
She started for the door, then turned. “By the way, have you read Ms. Gannon’s book?”
“Of course. She gave me an advance copy several weeks ago. And I bought one on the day of its release.”
“Any theories on the diamonds?”
“Fascinating stuff, isn’t it? I think Crew’s ex-wife skipped with them and made a really nice life for herself somewhere.”
“Could be. Thanks again.”
Eve waited until they were riding down to street level. “Impressions, Detective?”
“I just love when you call me that. He’s sharp, he’s smooth, and he wasn’t in a meeting. He had his assistant say so to flip us off, if possible.”
“Yeah. People just don’t like talking to cops. Why is that? He was prepared,” she added, as they stepped out and started across the lobby. “Had his night in question all laid out, didn’t even have to remind him of the date. Six days ago, and he doesn’t even have to think about it. Rattled it off like a student reciting a school report.”
“He still isn’t clear for the time of the murder.”
“Nope, which is probably why he wanted to flip us off awhile. Let’s hit the travel agency next.”
Eve supposed under most circumstances Work or Play would’ve been a cheerful place. The walls were covered with screens where impossibly pretty people romped in exotic locales that probably convinced potential travelers they’d look just as impossibly pretty frolicking half-naked on some tropical beach.
There were a half dozen agents at workstations rather than cubes, and each station was decorated with personal memorabilia: photos, little dolls or amusing paperweights, posters.
All of the agents were female, and the office smelled of girls. Sort of candy-coated sex, to Eve’s mind. They were all dressed in fashionable casualwear-or she assumed it was fashionable-even the woman who appeared to be pregnant enough to be carting around three healthy toddlers in her womb.
Just looking at her made Eve jittery.
Even worse were the six pairs of swollen, teary eyes, the occasional broken sob or sniffle.
The room pulsed with estrogen and emotion.
“It’s the most horrible thing. The most horrible.” The pregnant woman somehow levered herself up from her chair. She had her streaky brown hair pulled back, and her face was wide as the moon and the color of milk chocolate. She laid her hand on the shoulder of one of the other women as she began to cry.
“It might be easier if we go back to my office. This is actually Andrea’s station. I’ve been manning it this morning. I’m Cecily Newberry. I’m, well, the boss.”
She led the way to a tiny, tidy adjoining office and shut the door. “The girls are-well, we’re a mess. We’re just a mess. I honestly didn’t believe Nara when she called me this morning, crying and babbling about Andrea. Then I switched on the news channel and got the report. I’m sorry.” She braced a hand at the small of her back and lowered herself into a chair. “I have to sit. It feels like a maxibus is parked on my bladder.”
“When are you due, Ms. Newberry?” Peabody asked.
“Ten more days.” She patted her belly. “It’s my second. I don’t know what I was thinking, timing this baby so I’d carry it through the summer heat. I came in today-I’d intended to take the next several weeks off. But I came in because… I didn’t know what else I could do. Should do. Andrea worked here almost since I opened the place. She manages it with me, and was going to take over while I was on maternity.”
