Naked in Death Read Online Free PDF Page B

a smooth one,” Eve muttered when Rockman shut the door quietly behind him. “You’re not going to cave, commander.”
    “I’ll give them what I have to.” His voice was sharp and edged with suppressed fury. “Now, go get me more.”
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    Police work was too often drudgery. After five hours of staring at her monitor as she ran makes on the names in DeBlass’s books, Eve was more exhausted than she would have been after a marathon race.
    Even with Feeney taking a portion of the names with his skill and superior equipment, there were too many for such a small investigative unit to handle quickly.
    Sharon had been a very popular girl.
    Feeling discretion would gain her more than aggression, Eve contacted the clients by ‘link and explained herself. Those who balked at the idea of an interview were cheerfully invited to come into Cop Central, charged with obstruction of justice.
    By midafternoon she had spoken personally with the first dozen on the client list, and took a detour back to the Gorham.
    DeBlass’s neighbor, the elegant man from the elevator, was Charles Monroe. Eve found him in, and entertaining a client.
    Slickly handsome in a black silk robe, and smelling seductively of sex, Charles smiled engagingly.
    “I’m terribly sorry, lieutenant. My three o’clock appointment has another fifteen minutes.”
    “I’ll wait.” Without invitation, Eve stepped inside. Unlike DeBlass’s apartment, this one ran to deep, cushy chairs in leather and thick carpets.
    “Ah…” Obviously amused, Charles glanced behind him, where a door was discreetly closed at the end of a short hallway. “Privacy and confidentiality are, you understand, vital to my profession. My client is apt to be disconcerted if she discovers the police on my doorstep.”
    “No problem. Got a kitchen?”
    He let out a weighty sigh. “Sure. Right through that doorway. Make yourself at home. I won’t be long.”
    “Take your time.” Eve strolled off to the kitchen. In contrast to the elaborate living area, this was spartan. It seemed Charles spent little time eating in. Still, he had a full-size friggie unit rather than a cold cell, and she found the treasure of a Pepsi chilling. Satisfied for the moment, she sat down to enjoy it while Charles finished off his three o’clock.
    Soon enough, she heard the murmur of voices, a man’s, a woman’s, a light laugh. Moments later, he came in, the same easy smile on his face.
    “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
    “No problem. Are you expecting anyone else?”
    “Not until later this evening.” He took out a Pepsi for himself, broke the freshness seal from the tube, and poured it into a tall glass. He rolled the tube into a ball and popped it into the recycler. “Dinner, the opera, and a romantic rendezvous.”
    “You like that stuff? Opera?” she asked when he flashed a grin.
    “Hate it. Can you think of anything more tedious than some big-chested woman screaming in German half the night?”
    Eve thought it over. “Nope.”
    “But there you are. Tastes vary.” His smile faded as he joined her at the little nook under the kitchen window. “I heard about Sharon on the news this morning. I’ve been expecting someone to come by. It’s horrible. I can’t believe she’s dead.”
    “You knew her well?”
    “We’ve been neighbors more than three years — and occasionally we worked together. Now and again, one of our clients would request a trio, and we’d share the business.”
    “And when it wasn’t business, did you still share?”
    “She was a beautiful woman, and she found me attractive.” He moved his silk-clad shoulders, his eyes shifting to the tinted glass of the window as a tourist tram streamed by. “If one of us was in the mood for a busman’s holiday, the other usually obliged.” He smiled again. “That was rare. Like working in a candy store, after a while you lose your taste for chocolate.