Vengeance in Death by J. D. Robb Page A

will I tell them?”
    She looked over at Eve, and though her eyes swam, she seemed determined to hold onto her tears. “Who could have done such a thing to such a good man?”
    “It’s my job to find out. I will do my job, Mrs. Brennen. You can rely on that.”
    “Finding out won’t bring Tommy back to me or our children. Finding out’s too late, isn’t it?”
    Death, Eve thought, made everything too late. “It’s all I have for you, Mrs. Brennen.”
    “I don’t know if it can be enough, Lieutenant Dallas. I don’t know if I can make it be enough.” She bent over, softly kissed her husband’s lips. “I always loved you, Tommy. From the first.”
    “Come with me now, Mrs. Brennen.” Eileen didn’t resist as Eve took her arm. “Come outside. Who can I call for you?”
    “I — my friend Katherine Hastings. She lives… she has a place on Fifth Avenue, a shop. Noticeable Woman.”
    “I’ll call. I’ll have her come and meet you here.”
    “Thank you. I need… someone.”
    “Do you want some water now? Coffee?”
    “No, just to sit down.” And she all but collapsed into a stiff-backed chair in the waiting area. “Just to get off my feet. I’ll be fine.” She looked up, blue eyes swimming in a white face. “I’ll be all right. I have the children, you see. I have to be all right.”
    Eve hesitated, then pulled the evidence bag out of her pocket. “Mrs. Brennen, have you ever seen this before?”
    Eileen concentrated on the token as if it were a rare piece of art. “No. That is, of course I’ve seen a shamrock before, but not this little button.”
    “Shamrock?”
    “Of course, that’s what it is. A shamrock.”
    “How about this?” Eve turned the token over.
    “A fish.” She closed her eyes now. “A symbol of the Church. Will you call Katherine now, please? I don’t want to be here anymore.”
    “Right away. Just sit and try to rest a minute.”
    Eve rushed through the call to Katherine Hastings, offering little explanation. She was skimming her hard copy of the pub list as she did so. She had no Penny Pig, no Four-Leaf Clover, nothing with fish or church. But she had three locations with Shamrock in the name.
    She snagged her communicator. “Peabody, concentrate on locations with Shamrock in the name.”
    “Shamrock, Lieutenant?”
    “It’s a hunch. Just do it.”
    Eve walked into the Green Shamrock at three p.m. She’d missed the lunch crowd — if there’d been one — and found the small, dark pub nearly deserted. A couple of sad-looking customers sat huddled over thickly foamed beers at a back table while they played a desultory game of gin. Though she saw no on-site gambling license displayed, she ignored the piles of credits beside the mugs of beer.
    A young woman with a white apron and rosy cheeks was whistling as she wiped tables. She smiled at Eve, and when she spoke Eve heard that lovely lilt of Roarke’s native land.
    “Good afternoon to you, miss. Can I get you a menu? It’s just sandwiches this time of day, I’m afraid.”
    “No, thanks.” There was no one manning the bar, but Eve slid onto a stool before pulling out her badge. She saw the young waitress’s eyes widen.
    “I haven’t done anything. I’m legal. I have papers.”
    “I’m not with Immigration.” From the hasty relief on the girl’s face, Eve imagined the papers were still wet, and likely fake. “Are there rooms for rent on the premises? Do any of the employees, or the owner, live on-site?”
    “Yes, ma’am. There are three rooms. One in the back and two upstairs. I have one upstairs myself. It’s up to code.”
    “Who else lives here — what’s your name?”
    “I’m Maureen Mulligan.”
    “Who else lives on-site, Maureen?”
    “Well, Bob McBride did until last month when the boss fired him for laziness. Bob had a hard time lifting a pint, you see, unless it was up to his own lips.” She smiled again and began to scrub at the bar industriously. “And now there’s Shawn Conroy