“On that.”
“McNab, when you’re done here, assist Roarke. Peabody, contact Rohan at the desk. I want the security feeds and visitor’s logs. I want to know if anyone came to visit Williamson in—let’s start with the last three weeks. I want the feeds from the lobby, this hallway, the elevators, and the garage for the last five days.”
“Is she in the wind or dead?” Peabody wondered.
“I’m thinking dead, but maybe she went rabbit. She’s got a safe in her home office. We’ll see what’s in it, if anything. Go.”
She hurried back to Roarke. “Status?”
“Getting there. She either had the skills or hired someone with considerable. It’s a very fine job. Couple minutes more.”
While she waited, Eve selected a disc, used her own PPC. “I’m guessing she had the skills. The discs are encrypted. We’ll get through that, but it’ll take more time. I’m bringing Feeney in.”
Roarke looked up. “Eve, it’s near to midnight.”
“He’s a cop.” Pulling out her ’link, she walked to the master to search while she made the tag.
She found an old ’link, obviously kept as an emergency spare, a tablet, a roll of cash—two grand—in the underwear drawer.
“Like thieves never look there.”
Sexy underwear, but the only sex-type toys she found indicated solo rides. No regular bed partner, she concluded.
Soft, silky fabrics in the undergarments and night wear, some simple, serviceable jewelry, practical shoes on the business side, sex-me-up type on the party side.
“But you didn’t party much, did you, Marlene? All this tells me it was more a wide and twisted fantasy life. Maybe you got decent vacation benefits. That might be party time. Cut it loose somewhere not here.
“What’ve you got?” she asked Peabody without turning around.
“Nobody really knew her, not on this floor anyway. I’ve got a little from the woman across the hall. She knew Williamson worked nights mostly because she’d see Williamson come in some mornings when she headed out to the gym. Wit works remote at home three days a week, so she’d occasionally pass her in the afternoon—going to the market, that sort of thing. Mostly just nodded to each other.”
Peabody glanced at her notes. “She doesn’t remember seeing anybody visit, but since she felt Williamson didn’t want any friendly neighbor vibe, she didn’t make a point of chatting.
“Down the hall guy said he rode in the elevator with her sometimes when he headed out to meet friends and she was going to work. He asked, and she said she worked nights, then sort of froze him out—according to him.”
“Okay, let’s get that feed. I’m going to check on the e-team. Feeney’s on his way in.”
She went back to the office, saw McNab at the desk unit and Roarke crouched in the closet, with the safe door open.
“We’re in,” McNab told her. “I’m starting on files. She’s one paranoid mother, Dallas. Encrypted up the butt.”
“Feeney’s coming.”
“Couldn’t hurt, but we’re in here, and Roarke melted through the safe in like five seconds.”
Eve crouched beside Roarke as he drew out jewelry cases. “Those are going to be real.”
“I’d say so. Simple and elegant, good settings, good stones.” He opened cases, revealing necklaces, bracelets, earrings, rings. “It’s a lovely little collection.”
“How much you figure?”
“At a glance? Maybe a couple hundred thousand. We’ll find they’re insured and pin that down. And look here.” He pulled out another box, opened it. “Nice and green.”
“She had a couple thousand in her panty drawer, this is more.”
“About … half a million. Smart, I suppose, not to bank it all. It’s likely she’s paid more than she should be, and rather than send up any flags, they do some, at least, in cash. Easier to wash that way, on all sides.”
“No way she’s in the wind. You don’t rabbit and leave all this behind. You want the cash—and there’s a passport here, and an unused ’link. Insurance. Gotta run, grab the sparkles, the cash, the passport, the fresh ’link. She didn’t get to run.”
She sat back on her heels. “Nothing in here, nothing I found in her bedroom that touches on the Academy. We need to get into those discs, and her personal files.”
“I’m getting there,” McNab told her.