“Can you come into Central, work with him tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I can come in first thing. I’m sure as hell not going to sleep tonight.”
“You go on home now. Is there anyone there?”
“Yeah, two roommates, but … I’ve got a girl. I think I’m going to her place.”
“I’m going to get you transpo.”
“You don’t have to.”
“It’s bad out there. We’ll get you to your girl.”
She walked off to arrange it, then took the other bartenders.
And found the one, still shaking, who’d poured and shaken the base for the murder weapon. Sasha Quint, in her first month as bartender, trembled and leaked as she gave her statement.
“Brad told me, he told me about watching out for a woman with red hair and blue dreads. And to tell him if I saw her, especially if she ordered a pomtini. I wasn’t paying attention, we were so busy, and I just went on auto. This guy knocked over a whole screamer, all over the bar, then got in my face about it. He was really harsh, so I was mopping it up and making him a new one, and she must’ve sat down.”
“She wasn’t sitting there before the screamer?”
“I don’t think so, I really don’t. I’m not a hundred percent, okay? But I don’t think so. And I’m dealing with this dickwad, and she orders the pomtini. Lays down the cash, and a solid tip. I was thinking more about the dickwad, and the tip. And Brad was on his break, I think, and people were yelling for drinks, and I had two table orders to fill, so I was just on auto.”
She snuffled back a sob. “Am I in trouble?”
“Did she say anything else to you?”
“No. I don’t think. She just said, ‘pomtini,’ put the cash down. And I finished the screamer for the dickwad, who was still giving me grief like I knocked the glass over, which I didn’t, and I finished one of the table orders, mixed the pomtini, took the cash, filled the other table order. She wasn’t sitting there anymore, I don’t think, because Dorinda—one of the waitresses—came up and ran down another order, and I think I’d have seen her. And Brad was back, and I thought, ‘phew,’ then all hell broke loose.”
“Did you see her when all hell broke loose?”
“No. No, not really. People were yelling, and, Jesus, Brad jumped over the bar and started running. Then some people were pushing and shoving, more than usual. And then I could see something bad was happening at VIP-4, but I didn’t know what. I don’t understand what happened. I know the Flash died. She OD’d, right?”
“Not the way you mean. Do you have the cash for the pomtini?”
“I put it in the till. I … I, uh, put the tip in my pocket. You’re supposed to report it, but …”
“I need that. I’m going to give you a receipt for it, and you’ll get it back.”
“Okay.” She took some bills out of the bar apron pocket, drew out a fresh, lettuce-crisp five. “It’s this because it’s, like, brand-new.”
Eve signaled Roarke, then programmed a receipt, printed it out, handed it over. “You can go.”
“I’m not in trouble?”
“No.”
“I’m really sorry I made the drink.”
Not as sorry as Loxie Flash, Eve thought, and took an evidence bag from the field kit.
“Peabody just came in—with McNab.”
“Good.” She slid the five-dollar bill into the bag, marked and sealed it.
“What can I do?”
“Doubtful there are any cams in here. Take the outside surveillance, find her. I can put McNab on her personal devices. Peabody.”
Face pink from the cold, Peabody stepped up. “Which one is it?”
“Loxie Flash. Order in a screen, then round up anyone seated near VIP-4—Flash’s table—start on statements and contacts and releases. Hold anyone who had contact with or a good line of sight on the redhead. Leave Glazier and his group—we need to interview him separately. I’m going to start with the waitstaff and her table companions.”
“Glaze is here, too?”
“Yeah. Was that a bonus, or did she manage to arrange it? McNab, the uniforms have the vic’s purse, coat. Check her pocket ’link. I spoke with her earlier this evening, and left a v-mail that will likely time in after or around her TOD. See who and what else.”
“I’ve got it.”
Eve started on the waitstaff, got nowhere. No sightings until the dash. She walked back to the first on scene.
“Where are the people who were at the DB’s table?”
“We stowed them up in a privacy room, but had to put a man on the door. Bunch of assholes, Lieutenant, to tell the truth on it.”
“I guess they fit right in then. Names?”
He checked his notebook, and she transferred the names to hers. She started for the stairs, stopped when McNab hailed her.
He jogged over on his plaid snowboots. “You’re going to want to see her last text. It came in about twenty after your conversation with her.”
She took the ’link, read.
“Just couldn’t say no and stay the fuck home.”
“It’s from a Janis Dorsey.”
“One of her group. At least that keeps it simple. She’s upstairs. I’ll talk to her now. Roarke’s got the door cams. You can help with statements and contacts. I need to clear out most of these people before I start on the DB.”
“Roger that. Screen’s on the way.”
“Give me a buzz when it gets here.” She went upstairs and to the uniform on one of the privacy room doors. Saw it was Shelby from her own division.
“Stick around, Officer.”
“Yes, sir. Sir, they were half-stoned when we herded them in there.”
“Won’t this be fun?”
Eve went in. Two males, three females, she noted. One of the males and one of the females were currently tongue diving each other. The male’s hand squeezed the female’s exposed left breast with its glitter-painted nipple.
The lot of them may have been half-stoned when they’d entered the room, but they’d crossed the finish line.
“I can see you’re all grieving over the loss of your friend.”
A female with half a mile of blond hair scattered with pink braids smiled glassily. “Loxie puked and went plop, right on the floor.”
The female beside her who’d chosen swirls of black-and-white body paint in lieu of pants giggled.
“Yeah, that’s a laugh, all right. The old puke, plop, and perish.”
“Perish my left ass cheek.” The other male snorted, slouched down farther on the single bed they all shared. “Bitch is messing around, like she does.”
Eve took out her badge, walked closer to shove it into his face. “I’m Homicide, you fucking moron. Dead’s my business. Loxie Flash is dead.”
“No serious way. I was humping her like a minute before she puked and plopped.”
“Consider it her last hump.”
“She’s, like, dead?” The blonde blinked and some tiny glimmer of sanity flickered in the glassy eyes. “Like, dead?”
“Yes. You two.” Eve kicked the bed to break up the tongue-diving competition. “Knock it off, cover it up.”
“Sex is life, man.”
“If you take that pathetic replacement for your brain out, I’ll haul it and you down to Central, lock you in a cage, and forget about you for the next forty-eight. Man.”
His hand paused in the act of undoing the trio of buttons that covered the bulge of his crotch. “Fuck, a bitch oughta lighten up.”
Eve just opened the door, finger curled to Shelby. “Officer, take that extreme asshole into Central, book him on committing lewd acts in public, and toss him in with the other perverts.”
“Whoa, whoa.” He threw up both hands. “Take it down, yeah? I’m chill. I be chill.”
“Stand by,” Eve told Shelby, and shut the door again. “You be quiet until I tell you otherwise. Janis Dorsey.”
The blond raised her hand, wiggled her fingers.
“Did Loxie have plans to join your group of stupid tonight?”
“I … I don’t know. I hadn’t hooked with her for a few days.”
“You texted her this evening.”
“I did? I don’t know.” She looked at the woman beside her. “Did I?”
The woman shrugged. “You didn’t say.”
“But I … Uh-uh, I didn’t. The G-man came in, and I thought it’d be some laughs if she came in, too, but then we wanted to dance, and I forgot. Anyway, I texted her how he was in Palisades when I went in to have dinner awhile ago, and she got super pissed. And all, like, ‘Why should I give a shit?’ So I wasn’t even sure I should because she’s mean when she’s pissed. Then she came anyway.”
“Let me see your ’link.”
“I don’t think you hafta.” The one whose crotch had ceased bulging gave Eve the hard eye. “She needs, like, a warrant.”
“I can get one—and you can go to Central and wait until I have one, wait until I examine your friend’s cold, dead body, until she’s taken to the morgue, until I finish with the crime scene. Then I’ll come let you out of the holding pen.”
“You can’t—”
“I warned you to stay quiet. Speak again, you’re charged with obstruction, the lewd behavior, and possession of whatever’s left in your pockets of what you’ve ingested.”
“You can see it, you can see it.” Janis opened a tiny, useless purse, pulled out her ’link. Closed the purse so fast Eve assumed some of what was left was inside the small and useless.
Eve took the ’link, called up the texts. Then turned the display screen around.
She watched Janis’s face, saw the baffled shock. “But I didn’t! Hey, Dodo, look! This isn’t from me. It doesn’t have my sig.”