Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Suspense,
Mystery & Detective,
Women Sleuths,
Mystery Fiction,
Police,
Political,
Police Procedural,
New York (N.Y.),
Policewomen,
Police - New York (State) - New York,
Dallas; Eve (Fictitious Character)
and then, in an absent sort of way.
But for her, buildings simply were. People lived or worked in them, and they took up space, gave the city shape.
She decided against trying Broadway for parking, as this section always had a party going on. Instead she turned onto Twenty-third and crammed her unit into a loading zone.
The next drop-off or pickup was going to bitch, but she flipped up her ON DUTY sign, and climbed out.
"Bissel rented space on the top floor."
"Jesus, that's got to be prime."
Eve nodded as they walked toward an entrance door. "I glanced through his financials, and he could afford it. Apparently that metal crap he built went for big bucks. And he had his own gallery, bought and sold art."
"His connection to Felicity Kade?"
"Apparently. She was a client, according to Reva. So she bought from both Blair and Reva, and she's the one who persuaded Reva to come to the art showing where Reva met Blair."
"Cozy."
With appreciation, Eve glanced at Peabody as they crossed the lobby. "That's right. Too cozy for my liking, too. So why do you figure Felicity puts her lover and her friend together?"
"Maybe they weren't lovers yet. Or maybe she didn't know they'd get serious about each other."
"Maybe." Eve bypassed the security desk and used the code Reva had given her to access the elevator to the top floor. Instead of the doors opening, the computer gave a warning buzz.
You are not cleared for this elevator. Please return to the security and/or information desk for instructions on how to access the public entrance of Bissel Gallery. This elevator is for private use only.
"Maybe she gave you the wrong code," Peabody suggested.
"I don't think so."
Eve walked to the main security station. "Who used that elevator last?"
The young, prim woman in black curled her lip. "I beg your pardon?"
"Don't bother," Eve told her and slapped down her badge. "Just answer the question."
"I'll need to verify your identification." With her nose still in the air, she scanned Eve's badge, then slid over a palm plate. When Eve's ID was verified, she tucked the palm plate away again. "Is this about what happened to Mr. Bissel?"
Eve merely smiled. "I beg your pardon?"
The woman sniffed, then turned to her log book. "Mr. Bissel himself was the last to use that elevator. It goes directly to his studio. His employees and clients use the one to the right. That will go to the gallery."
"You have the code for the studio elevator."
"Of course. It's required that all tenants file their security and passcodes with us."
"What is it?"
"I'm not permitted to give out that data, not without proper authorization."
Eve wondered if stuffing her badge up the woman's snooty nose would qualify as proper authorization. Instead, she shoved her own memo book onto the desk, tapped the screen. "Is this it?"
Once again, the woman turned to her data unit, keyed in a complex series of numbers. She glanced at her screen, then Eve's. "If you have it, why are you bothering to ask me?"
"It doesn't work."
"Of course it works. You just didn't do it properly."
"Why don't you show me how to do it properly?"
Heaving a sigh, the woman gestured to a coworker. "Watch the station," she snapped, then clipped her way over to the elevators on hair-thin heels.
She coded in, and when she got the same result as Eve, coded in again. "I don't understand it. This is the proper code. It's registered. Building security checks all passcodes twice a week."
"When was the last check?"
"Two days ago."
"How long will it take maintenance to bypass?"
"I have no idea."
"Is there access from the gallery to the studio?"
Obviously aggrieved, she marched back to her station, called up the diagram for the top level.
Kevin J. Anderson
Kevin Ryan
Clare Clark
Evangeline Anderson
Elizabeth Hunter
H.J. Bradley
Yale Jaffe
Timothy Zahn
Beth Cato
S.P. Durnin