"He said he'd bring in something that would suit. I hope that's okay. Um, I don't know if you remember, but when you saved my life and all that, I promised I 'd bake you a cake. So ..."

She stepped to the side and gestured. Following the direction, Eve walked forward.One of the tables had been cleared off, probably by Summerset. There, on its glossy, pampered surface stood an enormous cake.

More like art, Eve thought.

An edible New York spread out, with its streets, its buildings, its rivers and parks, the tunnels, the bridges. Rapid cabs, maxibuses, jet-bikes, scooters, delivery vans, and other vehicles crammed those streets. People jammed sidewalks and glides. Shop windows held tiny, glittery displays, and glide-cart vendors served soy dogs and veggie hash.

She actually expected, for just a moment, to see it move, to hear it. "Holy s.h.i.t."

"That's a good holy s.h.i.t, right?" Ariel asked.

"That's a kick-my-a.s.s-and-call-me-Sally holy s.h.i.t. There's an illegals deal going down off Jane Street," Eve murmured, "and this guy's getting mugged in Central Park."

"Well, it happens."

Stunned, Eve crouched down to stare at the image of herself Ariel had created. She stood on a slim tower, over the city. She wore her long, black coat, caught in mid-billow and boots even she could see were scuffed at the toe. In one hand she held her badge-right down to her rank and badge number, and in the other her weapon.

"Wow. Just ... wow. I t's insanely iced. Do you see this?" she said to Roarke.

"I do. And I believe I 've made an excellent investment. I t's spectacular, Ariel."

"She spent weeks on the design," Erik told them, pride riding in every word. "Kept changing it. The good part is I got to sample the rejects."

"I t's by far the frostiest thing I 've ever seen. I 'm going to be the cop who ate Manhattan." Laughing, Eve straightened. "Listen, I 've got these friends getting married pretty soon. She's really going to want to talk to you."

"Louise and Charles? We're going over the final cake design tomorrow."

Eve nodded to Roarke. "Always one step ahead, aren't you, ace?"

"I hate to lag behind. Ah, champagne," he said as Summerset came in with a tray. "I 'd say that's very suitable."

"I can get with that. I think I 'm going to have a slice of the Upper East Side since ..." Eve trailed off, narrowed her eyes. And crouched again.

"Is something wrong?" Ariel began and gnawed her lip as she leaned over.

"No. This sector here? Are the streets, the buildings to scale-or close? Or did you just make what worked best?"

"Are you kidding?" Erik interrupted. "She used maps and holos, did freaking math. Ari was obsessed."

"I t's different from a map. Different even from being there, being in it. This ... it's kind of like a G.o.d's-eye view."

She rose, circled, squatted down. "Boundaries change, depending on the people. Who comes in, who goes out. Back fifteen, twenty years ago, the Soldado turf ran from East 96th up to 120th. Solid fourteen blocks from the East River over to Fifth. And the Skulls held 122nd up to 128th, with some territory west of Fifth where they disputed borders with the Bloods. But this area right here, this eastern slice between 118th and 124th, that was the hot zone of the battleground, that was where each wanted more territory. That was where the bombings took place."

"Bombings?" Ariel's eyes widened as she edged closer to the cake to study it. "I didn't hear about any bombings."

"They happened seventeen years ago," Roarke told her.

"Oh."

"Here's the church, and the rectory behind it," Eve continued. "Deep in Soldado territory. The youth center-northwest of the church, but still in boundaries. Now, up here ... What's happened here, just a few blocks north of where the youth center was built? In that one-time hot zone."

"What?" Ariel bent closer.

"Gentrification. Homes and properties, just hitting the edge of St. Cristobal's parish. A few were there before, the ones that held on during and after the Urbans. And in the last ten, twelve years, there's more. Successful business owners and so on, settling here, cleaning it up, increasing its value.

He'd see this every day. Somebody who lived here, crossed up and over to the center, visited parishioners-and bonded with the Ortiz family- would see this neighborhood, the houses, town homes, condos every day. He'd have seen them twenty years ago. He'd have seen that section every day. He wanted to keep it. He wanted more."

"Seven Deadly Sins again," Roarke commented.

"Huh?"

"Envy. In your face, day after day? You covet.""Yeah. Yeah. We're hitting a lot of them. Got your l.u.s.t, greed, pride, and now envy. Interesting."

"I 'm completely lost," Ariel said, and brought Eve back to the moment.

"Sorry. Something just hit me, made me think about a case." She straightened, but kept her gaze on the Upper East Side. "I think maybe we'll take that slice out of the Lower West. SoHo looks good enough to eat."

She ate cake, she drank champagne, and spent the better part of an hour doing her duty-and trying to keep at least part of her mind on the conversation. The minute their guests were out the door, Eve went back to the cake.

"Okay, so I need to hack this sector off and take it up to the office. I t's a good visual for-"

"Eve, for G.o.d's sake, it's cake. I can program you a holo-model of that sector in about twenty minutes. Probably less."

Her brow furrowed. "You can? Oh. That would probably be better."

"And involve less calories. But before I do ..." He crooked his finger, then started toward the steps. "What's the point?"

"I 'm not sure, exactly. I t was just looking down at it that way, different perspective. You can see, clearly, how the borders between gang turf ran, how they blended, putting certain areas in contention. And how the neighborhood's changed. Where everything is. Church, rectory, youth center, the Ortiz home, the restaurant. Then there's Lino's former apartment building. And I 'm thinking about what Lino said to his mother, to Penny. He'd come back with a big car, have a big house. You can get a car anywhere, but the house-"

"Would have to be in the neighborhood. He can't show it off unless it's in the neighborhood. But, if he had a big house in the neighborhood, why was he living in the rectory?"

"I don't know if he actually had it, or if he was just coveting it. But he was waiting for something. Years of waiting, deliberately on his home turf. I f he sticks that long, and under those circ.u.mstances, doesn't it follow he may have planned to stick for good?"

"The big house, the wealth, the importance, and the girl." With a nod, Roarke strode down the hall with her. "And the ground you've always considered yours."

"When he got what he was waiting for-and it has to be money, or something that leads to money-why leave again? He wasn't here for s.h.i.ts and smiles. He had a purpose. I haven't looked for it here, because I was going on the a.s.sumption he came here to hide. Maybe so, probably so."

She pushed at her hair as they turned into her office. "Maybe so. But there could have been something here he was waiting for. Something he got to see every day, and feel smug about. That kept him going, kept him playing the part that had to squeeze at him."

She paced around the murder board, thinking it through, working it out. "How much do you own on Grafton Street?"

She threw him for a moment, then he nodded slowly. "A bit of this, a bit of that. Yes, I wanted to have what I could only envy as a boy."

"Rosa knew him, but made it clear he left them be-mostly. He liked old Mr. Ortiz, respected him. Envied, maybe, if we go back to the Deadlies, maybe." She hooked her thumbs in her pockets, circling it in her mind as she'd circled the board.

"The Ortiz group is a big, tight family. Like a gang? They look out for each other, hold their territory. He gets close to them as Flores, marries them, buries them, visits them in their nice homes. The big house. He wants what they have. How does he get it?"

"Are you thinking he killed Hector Ortiz?"

"No, no, natural causes. I checked that through and through. And he respected Hector Ortiz. He, in his way, admired him. But the Ortizes, they aren't the only ones with nice houses, with a big house, with ties to the church. I need to run some of the properties, just see, just play this line out and see.

I could use that holo."

"Then I 'd better get to work." He held up the figure of Eve from the cake. "And this is my payment for the time and skill."

Amused, she c.o.c.ked her head. "You're going to eat me?"

"Too many obvious and crude rejoinders on that one. But no, I 'm going to keep you."

He leaned down, kissed the woman. "What are you looking for with those properties?"

"I hope I know when I find it."

CHAPTER 19

IT WOULD TAKE A WHILE, EVE KNEW-LIKELY longer than Roarke and his magic hologram-to do the search and run on properties and owners thereof. She opted to start with a basic triangulation between church, youth center, and the Ortiz home.

Probably a waste of time, she told herself. Just some wild hair, wild goose, wild whatever.

But it had always been a con, hadn't it? At the core, she thought as her computer worked the task, Lino Martinez had run a long con. A long conmeant planning, dedication, research, and the goal of a fat payoff.

Considering, she went to her 'link, checked with a good friend who knew the grift.

Mavis Freestone, her hair currently a sunburst the color of spring leaves, filled the screen with cheer.

"Hey! Good catch. Baby's down and Leonardo just split to go get some ice cream. I had a yen for Mondo-Mucho-Mocha, and we didn't have it on tap."

"Sounds good. I wanted ... Yen?" Eve felt the blood drain out of her head. "You're not pregnant again."

"Pregs? That's a negativo on being knocked up." Mavis's eyes twinkled, the same improbable green as her hair. "Just got the yums for the triple M."

"Okay." Whew. "Quick question. What's the longest con you ever ran?"

"Ah, gee, trip in the way-back. I 'm getting all nostalgic. Let's see. There was this time I ran a Carlotta, named it after an old friend. I think she's on Vegas I I now. Anyway, to run a Carlotta you've got to-"

"No details. Just the length."

"Oh." Mavis pursed her lips. "Maybe four months. Carlottas take a lot of foundation and seeding."

"Do you know anyone that ran one for years? Not months. Into the years."

"I know plenty who ran the same game, into years. But different marks, you know. Same game, same mark?"

"Yeah, that's the idea."

"There was this guy, frigging genius. Slats. He ran a Crosstown Bob for three years. Then poofed. Just poofed for five more. Came back around, I heard. He'd moved to Paris, France, changed his name and all that s.h.i.t. Buzz was Slats lived high on the take from the Crosstown Bob. Kept his hand in though, over there, 'cause you can't help it."

"Why did he come back?"

"Hey, once a New Yorker, you know?"

"Yeah. Yeah. That's the deal. What about religious cons?"

"Those are the cheesecake. Sweet and creamy, go down smooth. There's Hail Mary, Praise the Lord, Kosher, Redemption-"

"Okay. Ever hear of a grifter named Lino? Lino Martinez?"

"Doesn't ring. But I 've been out of the game awhile now. I 'm a mommy."

"Right." And, Eve realized, she hadn't asked about the baby. "So how's Bella doing?"

"She's the maggest of the mag, the ultest of the ults. In snoozeland now or I 'd put her on. n.o.body goos like my Bellarina goos."

"Yeah. Well. Give her a goo back from me. Thanks for the info."

"No prob. I 'll see you at the girl bash if not sooner. We're revved topless over it."

"Great. Wear a top anyway. Thanks, Mavis."

She turned, and walked straight through a scale model of St. Cristobal's. And said, "Jesus."

"I 've heard he visits there often."

"How did you do that? That wasn't twenty minutes."

"I 'm often even better than I think I am."

"n.o.body's better than you think you are."

He'd scaled the holo down, but constructed it considerably larger than Ariel's cake. The simple cross atop the church came to Eve's knee. She stepped out of church and surveyed. "This is pretty much iced."

"I can take it to the holo-room if you want larger scale."

"No, this is good. Church, bodega, rectory," she began, moving into the holo. "Youth center, Hector Ortiz's house. Site of first bombing." She moved south and east. "I t's still a school. Site of second. Now west and north. I t was a sandwich shop-type hangout, now a 24/7."

Roarke studied the holo himself. "I could, in about the same amount of time, program one from '43, or any given year.""You just want to play," she countered. "This is what he saw in the now, every day. Whatever was in the ... way-back," she decided, using Mavis's term, "is in the now. Changed a little maybe. But something he wanted then he wanted now."