Page 151 of Thankless in Death

She didn’t rush it; let Reinhold stew and sweat awhile. With her team, she went through every inch of the apartment, passed the electronics, including the droid, to McNab—and Feeney, who’d showed up as the MTs wheeled Joe out, a little steamed they hadn’t waited for him.

She found it interesting, and a little sad, to discover Reinhold had stocked the full, traditional Thanksgiving feast. And wondered if he’d planned on tucking into it before or after he killed one of his oldest friends.

She held up the minisaw as Roarke approached. “A new tool for him. I’d say he’d have tested it out on fingers, maybe hands, feet. Then he’d have used it to cut Joe into more easily disposable pieces—using the industrial waste bags we found to get the pieces out.”

“A lovely thought. And likely accurate. I took the droid,” he added. “Its memory loop is fully intact, going back to when Reinhold reprogrammed it—prior to murdering Farnsworth. It will be very solid evidence for the prosecution.”

“We’ve got nothing but solid evidence—and a live witness.”

“So you’ll be visiting the hospital at some point, and not the morgue.”

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

“For most of us. I also spoke with the realtor who arranged the rental. Easy enough now to track it.”

Idly, Roarke glanced around the main level, and even under the circumstances found satisfaction in the flow of the layout, the use of materials.

“Reinhold snapped the place up just yesterday, and made arrangements to purchase the furniture already in place.”

“Trendy and expensive. It suited him, and it saved him time and trouble.”

“Mmm. So you were right on his style, but he lucked—again—into finding a place where he didn’t have to shop for his furnishings.”

Eve’s lips turned up in a sharp, grim smile. “Luck changes, and I’m about to finish his run for good. I’m sending the electronics with McNab—and Feeney since his ass is burned I didn’t call him in away from his wife, family, and day off. Anyway. They’ll just log and secure, then they’re sprung. Sanchez and Carmichael are going to work with Crime Scene to seal and secure, then they’re sprung, too. Peabody’s stuck with me. I have to deal with Reinhold today. Now. If it goes smooth enough, I’ll be home for dinner.”

“We,” he corrected. “I’m with you.”

“Your family—”

“You’re my family first. I’ll let them know, and if we’re not going to be back at a reasonable time, they’ll start without us.”

“Fine.” If it took too long, she thought, she’d push him out. But she needed to get started. “Peabody! Let’s go have a nice little chat with Jerry.”

“Can’t wait.”

She worked on strategy as Roarke drove to Central. She had Reinhold’s number now. With Mira’s profile, her own observations, interviews with friends, coworkers, supervisors—she knew what he was, and believed she knew how he thought.

“You’re good cop, Peabody.”

“Aw, damn it.”

“He’s going to respond to bad cop—me—make excuses, try to hold a line, be a big shot as long as he can hold on to his guts there. And he’s going to respond to good cop, see someone who’s willing to give him leeway on the excuses. He’s not smart enough to understand the dynamics, the rhythm, or how that push-pull undermines.”

Roarke flicked a glance at Peabody’s sulky face in the rearview. “It’s a classic for a reason,” he reminded her. “And you always know when to slip in with the softer touch. It’s masterful.”

As Peabody perked up, Eve slid a glance toward Roarke. Talk about masterful.

In the garage, she reached for the box of props she’d brought from the crime scene. Roarke nudged her aside, hefted it himself.

“I’m going to know pretty quick how this is going to go,” she told him. “If I think it’s going to drag out, go into hours, I’m going to signal you, or step out and tell you. Let’s make a deal.”

“I do love a deal.”

“If it’s going to bog down, you go home, do the turkey thing. Then you can come back. I’ll even get word to you when I think I’m close to wrapping it up. Your aunt shouldn’t have to feel she’s in charge when she’s supposed to be a guest,” Eve added.

“That was a good one.” He shifted the box as they rode the elevator up. “All right then, that’s a deal.”

Satisfied with that, Eve got off the elevator. “Peabody takes the box. He’ll look at me as in charge. He’s going to be afraid of me, and I’ll make sure of it. He’s a coward, and fear’s going to break him. He’ll try to push me at first, then he’ll appeal to you,” she told Peabody. “You’re close to his age, you’re not the primary authority figure, and you’ll be sympathetic, to a point. Call him by his first name. That’s connection from you, lack of respect from me.”