CHAPTER 4

Back in the busy hive of Cop Central, Eve studied Roland Chadwick through the glass of Observation. He continued to sweat, just a bit, and his tear-swollen eyes tended to dart and dash around the room, as if he expected something to materialize in a corner and take a nice big bite out of him.

Perfect.

"We'll take him together to start," Eve told Peabody. "I 'm going hard. He expects it from me now."

"And you'd give him herbal tea and a fluffy pillow otherwise."

"I 'll leave the fluffy to you, after I storm out of the room in disgust, leaving dire threats in my wake."

"And I 'there-there' him until he spills his guts."

"That's the plan."Eve watched as Roland laid his head on the table as if to sleep. I t wouldn't have surprised her in the least if he'd popped his thumb in his mouth.

"While you're doing that, I 'll start on Dubrosky. He's been around the block a few times, and he has to know his dupe in there is a very weak sister. I believe his guts will also spill."

Peabody smiled as Roland cushioned his face on his folded arms. "My guy will spill first."

"Maybe. Let's find out."

She strode in, a tough, impatient woman who seemed capable of taking that nice big bite and enjoying it. Roland's head popped up even as he shrank in his chair.

"Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Peabody, Detective Delia, in Interview with Chadwick, Roland, on the matter of the murder of Minnock, Bart. Roland Chadwick," she continued, using both names to add a little more intimidation, "have you been read your rights?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Do you understand your rights and obligations in this matter?"

"Okay, yeah, but-"

She dropped her file on the table between them with a force that echoed like a slap. I t shut him up.

"You worked for Bart Minnock, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am, I told you how I-"

"Can you account for your whereabouts yesterday?"

"I was at home, I mean, I was at work, and then-"

"Which is it?" She snapped the words out, leaned on the table, deep into his space. "Home or work? I t's an easy question, Roland."

"I -I -I -I was at work all day, until I went home." Like the words off his tongue, color stammered in his face, pink then white, pink then white. "I logged out and everything. I t was after five. You can check. You can see."

"And you log out, Roland, every time you leave the building? Every single time?"

"Well, mostly. For sure at the end of the day. For sure then. I didn't do anything. I don't understand why you're so mad at me." His voice pitched into a whine threatening to reach dog-ears-only territory. "I didn't do anything."

"Is that so? Maybe Bart would disagree. Maybe he'd have a little something to say about that. I f he wasn't dead." She flipped open the file, spilled the crime scene photos out. "But it's a little hard to get the words out when your head's across the room from the rest of you."

Roland took one look at the photos, went a very pale green. He said, fairly clearly:"Gah." Then his eyes rolled up white as he slid to the floor.

"Well, shit." Eve blew out a breath and fisted her hands on her hips. "Better get him some water, Peabody."

"I t was kind of graceful, the way he went down." Peabody got a cup of water while Eve crouched down to pat Roland's cheeks.

"Out cold. He's not faking. Okay, Roland, come on back. Better get a medic in case... wait, here he comes. Roland!" She spoke sharply as his eyes twitched, then blinked. Then she gave a head jerk to Peabody so her partner would be the one playing nursemaid.

"Are you all right, Mr. Chadwick?" Peabody knelt down, eased his head up. "Try a little water. T ake a sip, that's the way. T ake a breath. Do you need medical attention?"

"I don't... what happened?"

"You fainted. Do you want me to call a medic?"

"No. No, I don't think... I just need to-" His eyes popped wide now, and he grabbed Peabody's arm like a drowning man. "Don't make me look again. Don't make me look."

"Tougher to look than to be part of causing it?" Eve said coldly.

"I didn't. I swear." He all but crawled into Peabody's lap, and Eve knew her work was done. "I sw ear! Don't make me look."

"Okay, it's okay. You don't have to look. Have some more water. We'll wait until you're feeling steady again."

"Fine, that's fine." Eve pushed the photos back in the file. "You want to coddle him, he's all yours. I can't stand being in the same room with him.

Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, exiting Interview."

She slammed the door behind her, but not before she heard Roland's breathless thank-you to her partner.Satisfied with Part A, she headed to the next interview room for Part B.

Milt Dubrosky had the buffed and polished looks of a spa rat. She imagined he devoted a good part of his day to the gym, and a good part of his week to treatments. His hair-too perfectly streaked to be nature's gift-lay in subtle waves around a smooth, fine-boned face. His eyes, a soft, shimmering blue flashed out of long, dark lashes as he beamed out a high-wattage smile.

"Officer, I don't know why I 'm here, but at least the view just got a whole lot better."

"Lieutenant."

His smile flashed along with his eyes as he executed a snappy salute. "Sir, yes, sir."

"Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, in Interview with Dubrosky, Milton, on the matter of the murder of Minnock, Bart."

"What?" Those bold eyes widened as he sucked in a breath. "Bart's been murdered? When? What happened?"

"You've been in Interview before, Dubrosky." She tapped the file that held his record. "So you know I 'm the one who asks questions, and you're the one who answers them. Have you been read your rights?"

"Yeah, the cops who brought me in. But they didn't tell me anything."

"Can you verify your whereabouts from between three p.m. and eight p.m. yesterday?"

"Sure. Sure. I was at my salon-that's Urban Meadows-from about one to three-thirty, then I met a friend for coffee. I did some shopping and went to another friend's place about five-thirty. Roland, Roland Chadwick. He works for Bart at U-Play. He got in shortly after I did, and we stayed in the rest of the night. He can vouch."

"The name and contact information for your coffee date."

"No problem. Britt Casey." He rattled off a 'link number and an Upper West Side address. "We're in a workshop together. Acting workshop. So we get together now and then to discuss craft."

He was good, Eve decided, but not that good. Poor Roland, she thought, just how many ways can you be duped? "And what time did you leave your acting pal and head out on your own?"

"Sometime around five, I guess."

"Coffee and shopping date. Where did you have coffee? Where did you shop? Do you have receipts?"

"I don't actually remember the name of the coffee shop. And I didn't actually buy anything. I t was more window-shopping."

Eve said nothing, just stared at him.

"Okay, look. I was at the salon like I said. My consultant's name is Nanette. You can ask her. And I met Britt after, but it wasn't for coffee, if you get me." He tried the smile again, one that said I'm a scamp, but you gotta love me. "We went to the Oaks Hotel for a couple hours. See, the thing is, she's married and I 'm sort of living with someone."

"Chadwick?"

"Ah, no. But my roommate and Britt? They don't know about each other. I 'd really appreciate it if they could keep not knowing about each other."

"Name of the roommate?"

"Chelsea Saxton."

Eve lifted her brows. "And where, exactly, does Roland Chadwick fit in?"

Dubrosky lifted his shoulders, let them fall in an oops gesture. "You could say I 'm sort of semi-living with him, too."

"With him also unaware of the other two, and they of him?"

"What can I say? I 'm a people person."

"That's a lot of juggling. A man that adept at juggling would be able to juggle enough time in for a stopover at Bart's apartment."

"Never been there." He added an easy, cheerful wave. "No reason to. I knew him a little, sure, because Roland works for him at U-Play. Seemed like a nice guy. Ro sure thought the world of him. I don't know why anyone would kill the poor bastard."

"You're adept at e-work, too."

"A hobby, really. Acting's my real passion."

"And combining hobby with passion you can make some cash selling inside information to interested parties. Especially when you're stringing along a love-sick puppy with a bullshit IQ of zero, like Roland.""Aw, now, Ro's a sweet kid. Maybe a little dim when it comes to anything outside of tech or gaming, but a sweet kid. And me? I 've got a need to be admired, I admit it. He admires me." Dubrosky turned up his hands as if to say, "Just look at me? Who wouldn't admire all this?"

"Enough to leak data on Fantastical."

Dubrosky tried looking blank, but didn't quite pull it off. "Sorry, never heard of it."

"Save the bullshit, Dubrosky. My IQ in that area's tuned and toned. And, Admiring Roland's already spilled it." She leaned back. "Admiring you doesn't mean taking the fall for you. He's not quite as dumb as you think."

"Ro's not dumb." Dubrosky didn't miss a beat. "He just gets confused sometimes when it comes to reality. He's wired to games, and a lot outside his bubble gets past him."

"Like you have two side pieces, and a penchant for e-spying?"

"I t's not illegal to spread yourself around. Believe me, all my lovers are happy." He wrapped an arm around the back of his chair, posed. "What's the harm?"

"I t tells me you've got no scruples, and a man with no scruples doesn't think twice about cheating, stealing, lying. I t's a short step over to murder."

"I don't kill people, sweetheart. I seduce them."

"Call me sweetheart again." She leaned in, eyes flat. "Go ahead."

"No offense, no offense." He held up his hands for peace. "I 'm not denying I 've taken my hobby too far a couple times. I get caught up, like anyone else. But if you've got my sheet, you know I don't do violence. The fact is, sweet-Lieutenant," he corrected quickly, "I don't need to. And sure, Ro's told me some things about the big secret project. He's excited about it, and he likes to talk. Part of a good seduction is listening. I listen. Not a crime."

"Try listening to this," Eve suggested. "Do you know what else I have besides your sheet? Your financials. I t's pretty interesting reading, too. All these nice deposits, which I 'd say keeps you in salon time with Nanette. More interesting as your employment records indicate you haven't had a paying job in close to a year."

"People give me money as gifts. I t's part of the admiring."

"I 'm going to bet Bart didn't admire you. I 'm going to bet when you went to him asking for payment to keep the information your sap passed you, he'd have threatened to go to the cops."

"I don't do blackmail." He glanced down at his nails. "I t's too messy."

"Here's something really messy." Once again she took out the crime scene photos.

Dubrosky didn't turn green; he didn't faint, but he did go stark white. "Oh my Jesus. Oh my Christ. Somebody cut off his head."

"I bet you practice swordfights in those workshops. Action roles, period pieces." Eve cocked her head as she gave him a cool up-and-down study.

"You're in good shape. I bet you can handle a heavy sword without much trouble."

"Listen. Listen to me." Suave vanished in sober. "I make a living sleeping with people who can afford to slip me some cash, buy me nice things. I make more by selling information when I 've got it. I don't hurt people. I sure as hell don't kill them. Roland's a mark, sure. He's easy. But the fact is, I 'd just about tapped that out, which is why I 'm easing over to Britt. She's got a rich husband who lets her play at acting and spend all the money she wants. He's out of town a lot-financial consultant. I figure I can tap that for a while, maybe get in the house, hack one of his comps, see what I see.

I 'm laying groundwork there, so why would I do something like this? I don't do this. I didn't do this."

"Who'd you sell the information to?"

"Ah hell." He pushed a hand through his hair, ruining its perfection and telling Eve he was sincerely frightened. "I f I roll there, you've got to cut me a deal."

"I don't have to do squat. You've already confessed, on record, to corporate espionage. And here's the thing, Milt. I really, really don't admire you.

Names. Now."

He sat back, closed his soft, shimmering eyes, and spilled his guts.

When she'd finished with Dubrosky, she had him escorted back to a cell. She would do what she could do to make sure he spent the next few years as a guest of the fine state of New York. And she hoped he sorely missed his salon appointments.

"I got mine," Peabody told her when they met in Eve's office.