“My impression is Clifton’s always wound a little tight.”
Cleo only shrugged. “We feel shut out some, on top of the rest. We come in here, and it hits us in the face. Somebody took her out, and we’re not part of the investigation. We don’t know you, but we know you’re looking at us. You don’t expect some resentment?”
“Resentment doesn’t bother me, Detective Grady. Murder? That just pisses me off. If Newman got a bang, why didn’t he tag Clifton instead of looking for him in the crowd?”
“You’d have to ask him,” Cleo said coolly. “But maybe to show some respect.”
“When one of you gets a bang on an ongoing when you’re off shift or separated, how do you tag each other?”
“Depends on the circumstances.”
“I’d say communicator if you’re soloing in the field. But if one of you was, say, at home, a ’link tag makes more sense. A lot of cops stash their communicators along with their weapon, their badge, and so on.”
“That’s what I’d do. If you’re asking.”
“Me, too. But I’d try the house ’link first. Hanging at home, why have your pocket on you? Except then that tag would be on the ’link. You tag the pocket, well, all you have to do is take it with you.”
“Goddamn it,” Cleo said under her breath. “You are looking at us.”
“I’m looking at everybody.”
“Look all you want, while whoever did this to Ammy walks away. What kind of cop drags other cops through the blood?”
Cleo spun around, stormed away.
“And here you are, making friends as always.”
Eve glanced over her shoulder, into Roarke’s eyes. “I’ve got a couple more to go.”
“I’ll leave you to it, and pay my condolences to Morris.” He trailed a finger over the shoulder of her uniform jacket. “We need to have a conversation.”
“Okay. As soon as I can. Crowd’s starting to thin out, so I’ve got to piss off a couple more people before this is over.”
“If anyone can,” Roarke said, and left her to it.
She found Delong just outside the doors in conversation with ME Clipper. Delong broke off as Eve approached.
“Lieutenant Dallas.”
“Lieutenant Delong.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Clipper said, “I haven’t yet paid my respects.”
Delong waited a moment, then gave Eve a come-with-me signal and moved another couple of feet away from the entrance. “I know you’ve got a job to do,” he began, “and nobody, nobody wants you to do that job successfully more than I do. But I’m telling you, here and now, I resent you pushing at my squad. I particularly resent you pushing at my squad here when we’re mourning one of our own.”
“So noted.”
“I hope it is. I’ll also tell you I fully intend to make my feelings known on this to Commander Whitney.”
“You’re free to do so. Meanwhile, I’ll tell you that I believe Detective Coltraine left her apartment that night to go on the job. She left her apartment to go on the job because someone contacted her and lured her out. Someone who knew her habits, someone she trusted. Someone she worked with. Or for.”
Color flooded Delong’s face. “You don’t know that. A cop goes out, she straps it on. For the job, or to go pick up some goddamn milk.”
“Not this cop. If you knew your detective, you know that.”
He didn’t have Clifton’s tough-guy move, but he edged in on Eve just the same. “Do you think you can try digging up dirt on my men? Say one of them killed their fellow officer and not pay a price for it?”
“No, I don’t. If someone did the same to my men, I’d kick some ass. I’d also be asking myself some hard questions. I’d be looking harder and deeper than anyone.”
“I’m not you.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Be careful where you push, and how hard.”
He might have stormed off then, but Whitney and his wife stepped off the glide. Instead, Delong walked stiffly up to them. Hands were shaken, Eve noted, condolences certainly offered. Then she saw Whitney nod before Delong strode onto the upward glide.
The Whitneys crossed the distance to Eve.
“Commander, Mrs. Whitney.”
Mrs. Whitney, trim in her stark black suit, took Eve’s hand in both of hers. The gesture, so out of character, had Eve blinking. “You have a difficult job. More difficult today.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll be right in,” Whitney said, and patted his wife’s arm. He blew out a breath when she went into the bereavement room. “A cop goes down, those with the bad luck to be married to one feel it. Well. Lieutenant Delong wants to speak with me, at my earliest convenience. You wouldn’t know what that may be about, would you, Lieutenant?”
“I couldn’t say, sir.”
“Won’t say. You’re cutting close to the bone, I expect. As squad boss, he’d want to defend and protect his men.”
“Yes, sir. Or he’s protecting himself.”
“If you connect him, or any of his squad to Ricker, make it solid. If we aim to put a cop in a cage, I don’t want any room for error.”
Though she wanted to get back upstairs, Eve took the time to corner Clipper. “What did Delong want?” she demanded. When Clipper merely looked pained, she hissed out a breath. “I’m investigating a cop murder. If it applies to my case, I want to know what he said.”
“He just asked if there was anything I could tell him, and why he’s blocked from receiving any reports on the case. He’s upset and frustrated, Dallas. Who wouldn’t be?”
“What did you tell him?”
“That my hands are tied. You’re in charge. That’s the way it is, and that’s the way my boss wants it. So my hands are tied.” Clipper used one of them to rub the back of his neck. “He’s steaming over you. I figure you know that already.”
“Yeah, I got a sense.”
“Every one of his men have contacted or come down to the morgue, hoping for information. I’ve got it locked down.”
“I appreciate that. Any of them give you grief?”
Clipper gave his trim goatee a slow, thoughtful stroke. “We’ll say Detective Clifton suggested I make love to myself, and suggested I’d already done so with my mother, on several occasions.”
“You’re a card, Clip. Did he get physical?”
“I was holding a laser scalpel at the time of our conversation. I can say I had the impression he might have wanted to dance otherwise.”
“Okay.”
“There’s really nothing I can tell any of them.”
“Yeah, but they don’t know that. Let’s keep it that way.”
Eve caught Roarke’s eye as he spoke with the Whitneys. She angled her head toward the door, then signaled to Peabody.
Roarke, she thought, knew where to find her.
“Impressions,” Eve said as she started up with Peabody.
“That’s a very unhappy squad, with some anger just under the line. Word’s circulating that we’re spending more time and energy looking for dirt on them than on pursuing alternate leads.”
“Where did the word originate?”
“You know how it is, Dallas. This one says he heard that from this one who said that. Cops are gossip whores. I will say I haven’t been pumped so many times in such a short span since McNab and I moved into the apartment and felt honor bound to do it in every room. Twice.”
“Yes, my day wouldn’t have been complete without hearing that.”
“Various techniques,” Peabody continued, “which also bring back fond memories of that night. Delong’s straight out, with an authoritative snap. Like I’m required to answer his questions because he’s rank. The Newman guy sort of circles around, trying to get you to trip up and spill. O’Brian’s got the sad eyes and fatherly demeanor going for him. Grady tries the solidarity between us girl detectives. And Clifton goes direct to bully.”