“How many tenants?”
“I couldn’t say right off, but if you need that information, I can get it.”
“No, just curious.”
She stepped out in the lobby.
Quiet, she noted, the air cool and subtly fragrant. Glossy black flooring with little gold flecks added an edge that, she supposed, suited the ultramodern art—all slashes and swirls of color—the twisty black-and-gold metal lighting hugging the ceiling, and the weird-ass flowers poking out of glass tubes.
The night man pushed off his stool behind a sleek U-shaped counter and quickly came around it. He wore a black suit with a gold tie and wore his ink black hair in a modified fade.
“Sir, ah, Lieutenant. I’m Rohan, the night manager. How can I assist you?”
“Marlene Williamson.”
“I believe she would be at work. She works nights, so I rarely see her. Our hours are similar.”
“Do you know when she left tonight, and when she usually comes back?”
“She hasn’t come through the lobby since I came on. At nine. But as I said, I rarely see her. I do believe she comes in most mornings at around five-thirty or six. I generally leave between five and five-thirty myself, but have occasionally crossed paths in the morning.”
Yeah, convenient, Eve admitted, and began to itch for the warrants. “How about this morning?”
“No, I’m sure I haven’t seen Ms. Williamson in the last several days, but that’s not unusual.”
“Maybe you could check the lobby feed,” Eve began, then her PPC signaled. “Never mind that for now. I have a warrant authorizing me to enter Williamson’s residence.”
“I see. If there’s some difficulty, or if I can be of any assistance in this matter, I’m at your service.”
“Great. Two officers will be coming in shortly. Send them up. If Williamson happens to come in while we’re up there, do and say nothing, just give us a heads-up.”
Eve started to dig for a card, but Roarke pulled out one of his own.
“Of course. Please let me know if there’s any other way I can assist you.”
With Roarke, Eve walked to the elevators—gold with black flecks. “Where’d you find him?”
“I can’t be sure, but I will find out. He never flicked an eyelash. I admire that.”
“If she’s on schedule, we have several hours before she heads back.” Eve rocked, heel to toe, toe to heel. “Plenty of time to go through her place. We find anything, we put an op together to take down the Academy, get those kids out, and I have some cops sit on her place in case she gets clear.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice and tidy and in a bow?”
“Yeah. How come things hardly work that way?”
She stepped out on two. Pale gray carpet on the floors, more bold art on silvery walls. Good lighting, she noted, solid security on every black apartment door.
She paused in front of 206.
“Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and civilian consultant—and owner of this property—Roarke. We have a warrant to enter this apartment, to search same and seize any evidence pertaining to the investigation of the abduction and murder of minor female Mina Cabot, the abduction of minor female Dorian Gregg, and the suspicion of child trafficking by Marlene Williamson, the resident, and others.”
“Very formal,” Roarke murmured.
“Cross every t on this.” She pressed the buzzer, waited. “Occupant does not respond, and is believed to be on duty at the as yet unknown location where the minor females are held. Mastering in.”
Roarke laid a hand on hers. “Before you do that, why don’t I disengage any and all alarms? It’s possible the occupant has an alarm tied to her ’link.”
“Okay, do that.”
While he worked, she scanned the hall. Quiet as a church, she thought. Whatever that meant. But if anybody watched screen, engaged in noisy sex, or beat the crap out of anyone behind those black doors, the soundproofing proved exceptional.
“There you have it,” Roarke told her. “Alarms and locks disengaged.”
“Great.” She gave the door a good pounding with her fist first.
“Marlene Williamson, this is the police. We are authorized to enter.”
She drew her weapon, went in low.
She caught the scent first. Death, but not human, not animal.
“Lights on,” she ordered, and swept the spacious living area with her weapon.
Clean lined furnishings in soft colors, and nothing out of place. A dining area with a glossy white table and chairs. The death was there in a vase of flowers drooping from a clear vase that showed a stingy level of cloudy water. Withered petals scattered over the table.