whines to the right person—or the wrong one—about Lyle’s cutting her off, even threatening her. And that person sees an opportunity. Take the ex-Banger out—who does he think he is—and use the junkie who can’t keep her mouth shut to do it, then take her out. The gang-war angle, Dallas,” she continued as they got out of the car. “Jones said he’s not looking for that, but maybe he is—the property-value angle you played with. Or maybe one or more of his lieutenants are trying for a coup.”
“Dissention in the ranks, very possible. Or Jones saw this as a way to cement his authority.” She needed to think about that, the ins and outs of that.
They went inside, started up. “Sacrificing an ex-member and an easy lay isn’t much of a sacrifice.”
“Like pawns in chess.”
Eve considered, rolled it around. “Yeah, like that.”
They found Rochelle already on her apartment level, in the arms of the witness across the hall.
A young man Eve recognized as the younger brother ,from the ID shots, stood a few steps away.
“I’m so sorry, Ro, just so sorry. When I think I watched those awful people go right in there . . .”
“If you hadn’t, we might not know what they did. So I’m grateful. We’re all grateful.”
“He was a good boy. He’d come back to you a good boy,” Ms. Gregory said as she moved back. “You let me know when you’re having his memorial. I’m going to be there.” She let out a sigh as she nodded toward Eve. “I’ve got to get to work. You let me know if you need anything.”
“If I could have just a minute, Ms. Gregory? Peabody, why don’t you take Rochelle and her brother inside?”
“I just feel sick about all this,” the woman said when she and Eve stood alone in the narrow hallway.
“I just want to confirm what you told us yesterday. You saw the woman we’ve identified as Dinnie Duff on the stairs.”
“I did, and heard her knocking on Lyle’s door. Calling and crying.”
“Do you recall what she said?”
“Something about needing help, asking him to help her, crying her crocodile tears and saying she couldn’t keep on, was ready for help.”
“‘Couldn’t keep on.’”
“‘Can’t keep on like this’—something like that. Saying how he promised to help. I didn’t hear all. I was heading down like I said. Trash night.”
“Yes. But you also saw the three she let in—through your peep. You’re sure they were males?”
“Big guys. I saw ’em from behind, but you don’t see many women with those builds.”
She thought of the female Strong had mentioned—built like a tank.
Maybe.
“Anything about them, anything at all, stand out? Something they said, a gesture, clothing?”
“Didn’t say a word in the few seconds I looked out. Just standing there in the dark hoodies—hoods up—and baggies. I just didn’t see . . .”
She frowned, poking her bottom lip out, then pulling on it while she thought back. “Well, now that I think about it again, one of them had the jitteries.”
“‘Jitteries’?”
“Couldn’t stand still.” She demonstrated, bopping her shoulders, a little shuffling of her feet. “And he kept—” She held her arms down by her sides, started snapping her fingers, one hand, the other, and back again. “I didn’t think of that last night. I guess it was like he was listening to music. Might’ve been. Then that bitch opened the door, and they went right in, she snuck right out. I don’t know how that helps you any.”
“It’s very helpful. If anything else comes to you, let me know.”
“I can promise you that. I have to go. I had my morning off, but I’m due in right now.”
“Thank you again.”
As Ms. Gregory hurried down the stairs, Eve went into the Pickering apartment. She could still smell fading death and the lingering whiff of the sweepers’ chemicals.
“I don’t see anything out of place in here,” Rochelle was saying. She stopped, turned to Eve. “Everything in here looks like it always does. In the kitchen, too. I’m sorry, this is my brother Walter. Walt, this is Lieutenant Dallas.
He kept his hair cropped close to the skull and his face clean shaven. Like his sister, he had heavy-lidded eyes. At the moment, they looked sleep starved.
“I read the book, saw the vid.” He didn’t smile when he said it, but extended a hand. “I hope you’re as good as they made you out to be.”
“Walt.” Rochelle spoke quietly, laid a hand on his shoulder.
“I didn’t mean it as an insult.”
“Why don’t we go through the