J. Robb - Seduction In Death

"But that changed."

"You could say they became very… at ease with each other very quickly. They touched, kissed in a way that indicated intimacy, or the willingness for it. If you understand me, Lieutenant."

"Yeah, I follow you."

"When I cleared the caviar, it was the lady who paid. This seemed distasteful to me as he had been the one to order." He looked a little sheepish. "But she gave me a very generous tip. They lingered over the wine. She became, it seemed to me, quite aggressive. At one point…" He shifted in his chair, relinked his fingers. "I saw her hand under the table. And, well, in his trousers. As this is against restaurant policy, I debated reporting it to my supervisor. But then she got up and went into the ladies' lounge. When she returned, they left."

"Had you ever seen either of them before last night?"

"I don't remember her, but we see so many people. The Royal Bar is a city landmark, after all. But I remember him."

Eve's head came up, just an inch. "How?"

"He's been in my section before, that same station. Only a week ago, perhaps a little more. With another man. He didn't look the same, but it was him. Last night, his hair was lighter and longer. His face different somehow. I can't really say."

"But you recognized him?"

"His ring. I'd admired it before. My wife is a jeweler, so I tend to notice a good piece when I see it. It's a wide band with alternating ribbons of white and yellow gold with a square stone. A ruby with a dragon's head carved into it. Very distinctive. His companion had one as well, but with a sapphire. I thought at the time they were mates, and these their wedding rings."

"This man last night had on the ruby ring."

"Yes. I nearly remarked on it, but as he looked so different I assumed he didn't wish to be recognized. And he indicated, quite clearly, he didn't wish to speak with his server."

Eve got to her feet, circled the room. "Tell me about the time you saw him before. Him, and the other man."

"I only remember it was about a week ago. I don't remember which evening. But I think it was early in my shift. Near seven o'clock. They had wine and hors d'oeuvres." He smiled thinly. "And didn't tip well."

"How did they pay?"

"Cash."

"What did they talk about?"

"I didn't hear very much. They seemed to be arguing, but good-naturedly, over which of them would start the game. They were in very high spirits. And it amused me when I was taking an order from station six that the gentlemen in five were flipping a coin."

Bryna Bankhead, Eve thought, had died on the flip of a coin. "I need you to work with an imaging tech, Jamal."

"I'm afraid I won't be able to describe him very well."

"Let us worry about that. We appreciate your cooperation. You've been a really big help. Someone will contact you about the imaging."

"All right." He glanced at Roarke, got the nod of approval, and rose. "I hope whatever I've told you helps you stop him from hurting anyone else."

"Jamal." Roarke got to his feet. "I'll speak to your supervisor. You'll be paid for whatever time you need to take off to assist the police. Any lost time won't affect your benefits or salary."

"Thank you, sir."

"We run the ring," Eve snapped the minute the doors closed behind Jamal. "Every jewelry store in New York that does custom work. Order an imaging tech, priority one."

"On it," Peabody replied.

"Lieutenant?" Roarke's voice stopped her before she'd taken two steps toward the door.

"What?"

"Where are you going?"

"Central, to review the security discs. See if I can spot the rings."

"You can do that here. And on this equipment, a great deal faster. Computer, replay security disc, Royal Bar, June six, twenty-two forty-five."

Working… Display selection?

"Wait a minute? You've got visual security on the lounge?"

"I believe in being thorough."

She cursed under her breath. "You could've mentioned it."

"Seeing it's so much more effective. Wall screen one."

The lounge spilled onto the screen, all opulence and color. The elegant sat at tables or glided on the dance floor while those who served them moved with seamless efficiency from table to booth, from booth to what she assumed was the kitchen.

The images sped up as Roarke manually ordered fast-forward.

"He should be coming along any… Ah." He stopped the progress, froze the screen.

Eve stepped closer, concentrating on his hands. "Can't see the ring from this angle. Play it forward." She waited, watched him speak briefly to the evening hostess. Watched him being led to his reserved booth. His hands were under the table and out of view when Jamal stepped up to greet him.

"Come on, come on, come on," Eve urged. "Scratch your nose or something."

Jamal returned with the bottle of champagne, the flutes. Completed the setup. But when he offered to pour the wine, he was impatiently waved away.

"Freeze image," Eve ordered, but Roarke already had.

"Increase sector twenty through thirty, fifty percent."

When Roarke repeated her request, Eve realized the unit was set for his voice command only. Any irritation she might have felt was overpowered by the satisfaction of seeing the ruby ring in full detail. "I want a printout of that."

"How many?"

"Give me a dozen. And transfer this disc run to my office unit and Peabody's PPC."

Peabody opened her mouth, then wisely decided not to ask how a civilian could transfer data to an official unit without pass codes and electronic authorization.

"Let's see if we can save some time. Peabody, I want you to do 'link calls to the jewelers. Show them the image of the ring. See if we can tag the shop or craftsman who made it. Is there a place she can set up here, for maybe an hour?" Eve asked Roarke.

"Of course." He contacted his executive assistant on the interoffice communicator. "Ariel, Officer Peabody requires a private workspace. She'll meet you at main."

He glanced at Peabody. "Just go out to the main reception this floor. Ariel will take care of it."

"Great." And with visions of another sparkling mango in her future, Peabody headed out.

"You'll want to see the rest of this," Roarke said, and resumed play at normal speed and range.

On-screen, the killer lined the flutes side by side. He poured a half glass of each, scanning the room as they foamed and bubbled. His hand lifted, hovered over one of the glasses.

"Freeze. Enhance."

She walked to within inches of the screen and saw clearly the trickle of clear liquid spilling from his hand into the glass. "When I get this bastard, the PA's going to do fucking cartwheels over this disc. Resume play, same enhancement, quarter speed. There, there, look at that. He's got a vial palmed in his hand. Pre-measured or I'm a monkey's butt."

"And I can attest you're not. Time stamp," Roarke continued, "shows he's given himself a few minutes leeway. In case she's early. He's filled both glasses now, set the spiked one across the table."

"Give me full view again. Look at him. Look at his face. Awful damned pleased with himself. A little private toast. Now he makes the call. His partner. Everything's in place, can't wait to get home and tell you how it went. We'll get a lip reader to study this, see how close I am."

"Here she comes," Roarke commented.

Moniqua stepped into the lounge. Hesitated. Then her lips curved. "There he is, she's thinking," Eve said quietly. "And he's handsome, just as she hoped he would be. Look, perfect gentleman's getting up. Takes her hand, a little peck on the knuckles for that romantic touch.

"Champagne? How delightful. Click glasses. Perfect script. You'd hardly notice that predatory look on his face as she drinks if you didn't know he was a monster. If you didn't know, in his mind, he's killing her right now."