“It’s fabutastic about Jenkinson.” Peabody scrambled to catch up with Eve before she hit the glides.
“He earned it.”
“Oh yeah. He never let on about going for the promotion. You, either.” “That’s how he wanted it.”
“Not surprised. It’s pretty frosty having a DS in the bullpen. And you can dump some admin stuff on him.”
“A handy side benefit.”
“So, are we going to interview Captain Greenleaf’s family?”
“That’s the plan. We’ll see where it takes us. I’ll be sending you a list of possibles from what you sent me.”
“Really? Already?”
“For now, one stands out. Former Detective Serene Brenner, did six years of an eight-to-ten for corruption, assault, witness intimidation. Worked in Illegals and helped herself to product to pay off gambling debts. Beat up the CI who rolled on her. She’s out and works-slash-lives a handful of blocks from Greenleaf’s apartment.”
Eve switched to the stairwell to jog down the stairs to her garage level. “A couple of others give off a whiff, but she’s first.”
“You wouldn’t think somebody who’d been a cop, and did six years in for being a wrong cop, would want to live and work that close to Central.”
Peabody got in, strapped in while Eve plugged the address Webster had given her into the dash unit.
“Speaking of wrong cops,” Peabody continued. “Not in the same way, but wrong. Lansing, wow. Not just out of line, out of control. Swear to the goddess, Dallas, I thought he might draw down on you.”
“He wanted to,” Eve said coolly, “and he’s paying for it.” “Damn well should. He came right at me.”
“What?” Eve whipped her head around. “In the bullpen?”
“Yeah, he comes busting in, the other one—Dennison—he’s trying to hold Lansing back. He must’ve known we were partners, because he came right at me.”
“Did he put hands on you?”
“No. No, he just started going off—at first I thought he was a civilian— just going off on me, asking where you—my bitch partner—was. By the time I realized he was another cop and he started going off about Greenleaf and how we were covering up murder and he was threatening to kick my fat ass, Jenkinson blocked him.”
When Eve said nothing, Peabody hunched up her shoulders, let them fall. “He threw me off at first, just the way he bulled in there, went for me. I’d’ve handled it. I would have, but Jenkinson got between us, then everybody’s up and Lansing went after Jenkinson. Then you came in.”
As if to shake it away, Peabody gave a full body shudder. “Good thinking, fast thinking, to switch on your recorder.”
“I hear the next thing to a brawl in my bullpen, I want it on record. Jenkinson wouldn’t throw the first punch; he’s too smart for that. I want that on record. Goddamn it. You should’ve told me.”
“Well, I didn’t exactly have a moment for that, considering.”
“Okay, okay.” Eve ordered herself to simmer it down. “That’s valid.” “And, the truth is, I was—am—kind of pissed at myself for not handling
it myself. Jenkinson shouldn’t’ve had to intervene.”
“Yes, he should have. He did exactly what he should’ve done, and so did everyone else. Including you. You were on that line. When we’re done with this fieldwork, I need you to write it up.”
“Ah, Dallas.”
“It needs to be done. Whitney’s going to take Lansing’s badge, no way around it. This wasn’t his first out-of-line, out-of-control incident. Lansing will fight it. We give the commander everything, including what you just told me. As your lieutenant, I’m ordering you to write this incident up, in detail, with accuracy, send it to me, to Whitney, and to Lansing’s captain.”
Hissing, Eve smacked her fist on the steering wheel. “Goddamn it.” “I’m sorry, I—”
“Don’t you apologize,” Eve snapped. “You do not apologize.”
She pulled over a block from the address, not because she lucked into a street-level spot, but because she’d need the walk.
“He threatened you, me, Jenkinson with physical harm. And by Christ, he’d have followed through on swinging away, worse, he very well might’ve drawn his weapon, if Whitney hadn’t shown up when he did. He leapt to conclusions without evidence, and had no intention of attempting to gather evidence to support that leap before committing violence against you, me, and anyone who got in his way.
“Now think about this,” Eve demanded. “If he behaved in this manner to and with other cops, armed, trained individuals, how might he have acted with civilians, suspects, a neighbor who pissed him off?”
“You’re right. You’re right. I didn’t think about that. The whole thing twisted me up. I’ll write the report, in detail, when we’re done in the field.”
“Damn right.” She started to get out of the vehicle, paused. “And because I know this single point will stick in your craw, let me dispute it, factually. You don’t have a fat ass.”
Peabody let out a half laugh. “Thanks. It’s been more stuck in my brain.” “Well, pluck it out, and put the rest away while we do the job. Whitney’s
right to take Lansing’s badge, but we still have ours.”
The walk helped. A busy New York sidewalk, the quick flick of sweet from an open-air flower cart, the lazy rumble-fart-rumble of a maxibus pulling up at a stop. The color and unrelenting hope from street artists displaying their work on this southern edge of SoHo.
She caught Peabody’s eye wandering in that direction. “No. No stops.”
“Not stopping, just considering. We’re thinking of hanging street art in the living room. Sort of a theme. I wouldn’t buy anything without McNab unless I was abso-pos he’d like it. You’ve gotta agree on art for your shared walls.”
“Is that a rule?” She didn’t have that one in her Marriage Rules. “There’s all kinds of art everywhere at the house.”
“Roarke already had it before, right?”
“Yeah. Mostly. Probably. I don’t know.”
“And you’re fine with it. But we’re doing this from scratch, so you have to consult.”
A situational rule then, Eve concluded.
Greenleaf’s daughter, Carlie, lived with her husband, Jed, and their three children in a three-story townhome in the middle of the next block.
They’d trimmed out the whitewashed brick in a deep, dark navy, added window boxes to the base of a trio of tall windows, filled them with a lot of pink flowers and spilling greenery.
Solid security—she’d expect same from a cop’s kid—cams, palm plate, intercom, and good—if fancy—lock sets.
And still, when she buzzed, the door opened quickly and without inquiry. “I kept an eye out for you,” Webster told her. “They’re all back in the
family room. It’s been a hard day, so—”
“I left my sap and bamboo shoots at the office. Give over, Webster.” “Sorry. Sorry. It’s been a hard day,” he repeated. “Lansing didn’t make it
easier.”
“He has nothing to do with this. Give that over, too.” “Trying.”
He led them back—a good-sized living room, a glass-doored home office, powder room—into a space where the kitchen, dining, and lounge areas spread open to each other.
Reinforced glass doors opened to a tiny paved patio now occupied by several kids—a teenage spread for the most part.
Inside, younger ones sprawled on the floor, playing with toy cars, while the adults sat or stood. Spread out again, Eve thought, but unquestionably united.
“Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody. Ah, Ben Greenleaf, and his wife, Mina; Carlie and her husband, Jed Metcalf; Luke Greenleaf and his husband, Shawn Bee.
Carlie stepped forward first. Tall and lanky like her father, she’d opted for bold red hair, had tamed it back into a sedate roll at her nape. She wore a severe black dress and signs of recent weeping.
“Thank you for coming to us. I’m going to get everyone coffee. Jack, take the little guys outside.”
The older kid on the floor looked up, mutiny in his eyes. “I don’t want to.”
“Out,” she repeated. “Take the cars, too. I’m going to send for some lemonade.”
“Fine.” He rolled those mutinous eyes so hard, Eve found herself surprised they didn’t pop and fly out of the room. “Grandpa died,” he told Eve.
“I know. I’m very sorry.”
“He played catch with me and came to watch me play in the park. Now he won’t. Come on, Henry, and you, too, Kaylee. We’re going to play outside.”
“I’ll give you a hand with the cars.” Shawn, gym fit, mixed race, red- rimmed brown eyes, scooped up the youngest—Kaylee—along with a handful of cars.
He led the kids out to the patio.
“Have a seat.” Jed Metcalf gestured to two chairs, obviously left unoccupied for this purpose.
Mid-forties, mixed race, he had smooth good looks and the faintest accent. From his background check, Eve knew he’d come to New York from London twenty years before.
“I apologize for the need to intrude at such a difficult time,” Eve began. “My father did his duty.” This from Luke, the youngest sibling. “He’d
want you to do yours.”
Beth reached over, laid a hand over her son’s.
He had his mother’s eyes, and a more compact build than his siblings.
Mina, Asian, model slim with ink-black hair, porcelain skin, rose. “I’m going to give Carlie a hand with the coffee. I’ll make you the tea, Beth.”
“Yes, yes, I’d like that.”
“Don said he asked for you because you’re the best.” On the other side of their mother, Ben Greenleaf studied Eve, then Peabody, then Eve again with cool, assessing eyes. “I’ve seen you address the media on investigations. You seem very confident.”
So did he, she thought, and noted that the resemblance to his father went beyond the physical.
“If you’re not confident when addressing the media, they’ll eat you alive. Webster asked for me because, from experience, he knows my partner and I will do everything that can be done to identify and apprehend your father’s killer.”
“They tried to make it look like suicide.” Luke turned his hand over under his mother’s, linked their fingers. “They didn’t know him. You
weren’t fooled by that.”
“There were indications on scene that the suicide was staged. The chief medical examiner confirmed my findings, added his own. We’re sorry for your loss, we regret, deeply, that Captain Greenleaf’s life was cut short, particularly when he devoted so much of it to public service.”
“IAB cops aren’t popular cops,” Ben put in.
“No, they’re not. Do you know of any cops who wished your father harm?”
“I might’ve said you a couple years ago.” “Ben.”
The single word came from Webster as his wife and sister in the kitchen both sent him long, disappointed looks.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He shut his eyes a moment. “That was rude and wrong and stupid.”
“It would be all of that, seeing as the captain had retired for some time when I was, briefly, suspended.”
“And he backed you all the way on that, rightfully so as it turned out. I apologize,” Ben said again. “And to you, too, Mom, for embarrassing you.”
“None of us are at our best right now.” Beth patted his thigh in support. “Coffee, Lieutenant, Detective.” Carlie set up a coffee tray on the wide
kitchen island and brought two cups into the family area. “Black and coffee regular. I read the books, saw the first vid. I’ve also had a few brushes with Roarke, so to speak.”
“So to speak?” Eve repeated.
“Independent Design, the company I work for, has done some business with and for him. He wouldn’t know me. I’m a cog in the wheel.”
“A big cog,” her younger brother said. “High on that wheel.” “Maybe, but not big or high enough to connect directly with Roarke.”
Change the subject, Eve thought, give the room time to settle again. And her big brother time to compose himself.
A peacemaker.
“I’d also like to answer the question you asked Ben. I know our father received threats. He didn’t talk about them at home, or not in our hearing.”
“Kids hear things,” Peabody began, “adults, parents don’t think they hear.”
“Oh, so true,” Carlie agreed with a glance toward the patio. “I imagine that’s only one of the reasons Dad was so careful about it.”
Shawn came back in. “Settled down. Hal and Flynn took charge.” “Thanks.”
As Mina came in, served the tea to her mother-in-law, Carlie poured coffee for herself, then sat.
“But twice before he retired, he did speak about it, to all of us. The first time, I was pregnant with Flynn, our oldest, so it was about seventeen years ago.”
“Who was he worried about?”
“Well, us, but yes, a specific cop who made threats he took seriously enough to ask us, all of us—well, not Shawn, as Luke hadn’t even met him back that far—to take precautions.”
“Do you have a name?”
“Adam Carson,” Ben said. “I remember and, yes, about seventeen years. Hal was just a baby—just a couple months old. Mina and I were still trying to rehab the brownstone. He insisted I put in better security even though we wouldn’t officially move in for another six months. We were there a lot. Mina and Hal were there a lot alone or with workers handling what we couldn’t.”
“I was in grad school,” Luke recalled. “But I’d zip home on weekends sometimes, and for holidays. He gave us the name, showed us an ID shot, and told us if we saw this person, to tag him immediately, and to get off the street, if that’s where we were. To keep the doors locked if we were at home.”
“It scared me,” Carlie said. “He’d never come to us that way before, so I knew he was scared, too. He said this Adam Carson had been a street cop— a dirty cop, a violent cop he’d investigated. He’d built a case that had Carson fired, and he—Carson—had been charged with taking bribes, and for causing the death of a suspect in his custody. My father firmly believed he’d go to prison—and he did—but before, he made bail. And Dad said he’d promised him—Carson had promised Dad—that he’d take retribution on him through his family.”
“Did he attempt to harm any of you?”
“Jed and I were living in a foursquare just a few blocks from here. Downtown people,” Carlie added. “Dad had a couple of plainclothes cops
sitting on the place—something he didn’t tell us—and they caught Carson trying to break in. He had a drop piece and a knife on him, some restraints. He’d had to turn in his service weapon, but he had the drop piece, the knife. I’m sure he’d have used them.”
“They rescinded his bail,” Jed went on. “He got life, no possibility of parole. More came out in the trial, because I paid attention. Raping suspects, running a protection racket. More. What I know is even though we had good security, because Martin insisted, if Carson had gotten through it … Those cops saved our lives. They saved our lives because Martin asked them to watch out for us.”
“Has he made more threats?”
“He’s on the list, Dallas,” Peabody told her. “You haven’t gotten that far into it yet, but I remember putting this one on the list. He got shanked in prison, ten or twelve years ago.”
“Okay. We’ll look at any connection there. Relatives, cell mates he might’ve gotten friendly with, other cops who ran with him back then. You said twice.”
“Yes. It was—Jack was just starting to walk, wasn’t he, Jed? If I’m right, that would be about eight years ago. A detective. Serene Brenner.”
Though the name popped, Eve only nodded. “She also threatened to harm your father by harming his family?”
“Dad said she was desperate. I remember this,” Luke said. “Shawn and I had just gotten married.”
“We had that crazy little place in the Village,” Shawn added, “over Tarot Tattoo.”
“Get your cards read while you get your tat. Those were the days. Anyway,” Luke continued, “Dad came to the door with a tech and a security system. One of Roarke’s, if that says anything.”
“I’d say he wanted the best for you.”
Luke nodded at Eve. “I was all, ‘Come on, Dad, lighten it up,’ but he sat us down, and said this woman he’d investigated was desperate, a gambling addict in deep. He hadn’t proven it, but suspected she might also use some of the illegals she lifted before they went into Evidence.”
“She said he’d taken everything from her, so she’d make damn sure to take everything from him. Isn’t that right?” Ben asked his siblings.
“That’s what I remember. And she’d put the guy who turned her in in the hospital. She’d made bail because her mother was sick,” Carlie added.
“She went to prison, too. Not for life,” Shawn recalled. “She hadn’t killed anybody.”
“Has she made any threats since?”
“No.” Carlie looked at her mother, her brothers, then repeated, “No. I wouldn’t have given her another thought except for this.”
“All right. That’s helpful. Is there anyone else?”
“Not that he told us about.” Ben took his mother’s hand. “Mom?”
“There were threats. Most of them he considered hot air, the heat of the moment, the anger of being investigated even if cleared. IAB cops aren’t popular cops,” she repeated. “But the unlocked window…”
“Yes, ma’am. We believe the killer entered through that window. We believe the killer had knowledge of your apartment layout and your household routine. Believed that Captain Greenleaf would be alone from the time you left until you returned. Is there anyone you can think of who would have this knowledge, hold these beliefs, and who wished the captain harm?”
“No. I’ve hardly thought of anything else, but no.” “It had to be a cop.”
Eve shifted her attention to Ben. “No, in fact, at this time I don’t believe that to be the case, or at least not a cop with good training, or fresh training.”
“You’ll always cover for each other,” he said in disgust.
“That’s bullshit, Ben.” Webster shoved away from the island he’d leaned on during the interview. “That’s bullshit. These two took on a ring of dirty cops IAB didn’t have a whiff of. They took them on, took them down, and put themselves in harm’s way to do just that.”
“Leave it, Webster.”
He rounded on Eve. “I won’t. I pulled you into this. Do you think I’d have pulled her in if I’d had a single doubt she and Peabody would put Martin first? They’re murder cops, Ben, the best I know. Dallas runs a division of murder cops, the best I know. If I ended up on a slab, I’d damn well want them standing for me.”
“Don’t say that, Don,” Beth murmured. “Don’t say that.” “We’re all struggling,” Mina began. “We—”
“No excuses.” Ben shook his head at his wife. “I have to apologize again. Jesus, Don, he’d have come down on me just like you did, and he’d have been right, just like you are. I need a minute. I’m not handling this well. I’m just going to go outside with the kids for a minute, get some air.”
Shawn waited until Ben went outside. “Why don’t you think it was a cop? I’m not questioning, just asking. There’s a difference.”
“There were mistakes,” Eve told him. “Mistakes a trained cop might make acting on impulse, but we see this as well planned. A cop who’s no longer a cop, rusty? Maybe.”
“But then … Why would anyone else do this?”
“You’re all in this room now because you lost someone you loved. You have grief, anger, you look to blame someone, hold someone responsible.”
“Of course we do.” Carlie spread her hands. “Of course.”
“Of course. Due to your father’s work, his diligence, his duty, law enforcement officers lost their badges, their livelihood, in some cases their freedom, in some cases their lives.”
“That’s just what we’re saying,” Carlie insisted. “Wrong cops have people who love them, too.”
“Oh,” Carlie slumped back in her chair. “Oh God.”
“We’ll look at the cops your father investigated, and at the people connected to them. We’ll keep looking, following the facts and the evidence. If you remember anything, if you think maybe this is something, just maybe, you contact me or Detective Peabody. We’ll follow it up.”
She rose. “I’m sorry for your loss. Captain Greenleaf was retired, but as far as I’m concerned, he died in the line of duty.”
“Thank you for saying that.” Carlie rose, held out a hand as she stepped to Eve. “Thank you for meaning it.”
“I’ll show them out, Carlie.” Webster led the way back. “Ben—”
“There’s no need, Webster. No need at all.”
“He told me today … Mina had a late class last night. She teaches pottery, and scheduled this extra class for a couple of promising students. He remembered it was his mom’s night out and was going to drop by, see his dad, talk him into going out for a brew at this sports bar they liked.
“Then when he got home, his neighbor was out grilling—they have a great place on the Lower East—and said come on over, bring the kids. So
he ended up hanging with the neighbors and the kids and didn’t go over to see his dad. He can’t shake it yet.”
“Help him shake it. It’ll take awhile, but you’ll help him shake it.” “Look, if I can help you follow up on either of those leads Carlie gave
you—”
“You can’t. We’ve got it. You can’t push into it.”
Misery in his eyes, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I feel useless.”
“You’re not. You’re helping hold the captain’s family together. Keep doing that. We’ve got to move.”
He stood at the door, watching them as they walked up the block. “Serene Brenner,” Peabody said. “She might just ring the bell.”
“We’re sure as hell going to find out.”
