Shadows in Death (In Death #51) - J.D. Robb Page 0,84
might have called pique, Abernathy drew a breath. “There is no question of Lieutenant Dallas’s integrity, her reputation, her dedication to justice.”
“Good. But she did marry me,” Roarke said with some cheer. “And that’s a puzzlement, isn’t it now, to a man such as yourself. You’ve speculated, I expect, that this relationship is a convenience for me.”
Abernathy managed to look mildly appalled at the suggestion. “I wouldn’t presume to comment on your personal relationship, on your marriage.”
“Manners prevent you,” Roarke agreed. “But you think what you think. Let me set you straight. She is often hugely inconvenient to me. And she is everything to me.”
“Stop it.”
When Eve jerked her hand again, Roarke merely brought it to his lips. “Everything to me. If giving you exact dates, reasons, confessing a thousand crimes would help you take Cobbe down, I would cite chapter and verse. Understand, believe, he would kill her to taunt me. Closing a jewel heist from fifteen years ago might add a sparkle to your file, Inspector, but it won’t help you with Cobbe.
“Which do you want?”
Eyes on Roarke, Abernathy said nothing for a moment. Then, “Cobbe.”
“And so again, our goals are the same. If I can tell you more than I’ve already said for the record, ask. Nothing is more important to me, at this time and place, than seeing him dead or put away. I don’t much care which, and there’s the inconvenience, as the lieutenant does care.”
Abernathy huffed out a breath. “I believe I’ll chance the tea. Can I get either of you something?”
“No,” Eve said, still miffed.
When Abernathy rose to cross over to Vending, she hissed at Roarke. “Don’t do that again. Hand kissing in front of Interpol.”
“A point had to be made, and was. The French heist means little to him, but he had to try, didn’t he? And he’d consider the possibility that tripping me up there might lead to other stumbles, which may—in some way—connect to Cobbe. As bagging Cobbe does mean quite a bit to him. And now he knows Cobbe is my priority, on a very personal level, as well.”
“Maybe yes, maybe no. But keep your mouth off my knuckles on the job, or my knuckles are going to crack you in that mouth.”
“I adore you.”
“Shut up,” she muttered, “just shut up about it.”
“Only one choice of tea.” Obviously perplexed, Abernathy carried the steaming go-cup back to the table. “It appears to be some anemic blend resembling horse urine. Ah well.”
He settled again, sipped, winced. Looked at Roarke. “You’ve had no contact with Cobbe, no interaction, no business with him since that time in the bar in France until now?”
“No. I’ve kept tabs on him, as I’m well aware he’d like to see me dead, and he’s skilled at killing. But we’ve managed to stay off the same road for some time.”
Abernathy leaned forward. “Do you agree he believes Patrick Roarke is his father?”
“I’m sure he does believe it. I’m sure he needs to. Patrick Roarke was as hard and cruel a man as was ever born, and made my life a misery. But for Cobbe, he’s a bloody star shining in the East. Make of that what you will.”
“Would you stand as bait to lure him?”
“No,” Eve said, fast and furious.
“Yes,” Roarke said, cold and calm. “Yes,” he repeated, turning to her. “You’re a cop, not an eejit. My everything,” he told Abernathy. “But while he’s mad as a hatter, he’s no fool, and unlikely to fall for it.”
“I agree. But I wondered. You have family in the west of Ireland.”
Everything in him went cold. Eve wondered if Abernathy felt the frosty sting of Scary Roarke. “They’re not in this.”
“Nor would I wish them to be, I promise you. Does he know of them?”
“He may, as you do. I’ve taken precautions there.”
“As have we. You should know that.”
Roarke eased back. “Then I’m grateful.”
“I’ve kept you long enough.” Abernathy rose, and left the tea on the table. “I feel we’re close. I feel we can reach that goal I’ve strived for, for far too long. There are names and faces of the dead that live in me. You understand, Lieutenant.”
“I do.”
“If I’ve pushed where it’s not welcome or helpful, it’s for them.” This time when he smiled at Roarke, it hit more friendly. “The Green Flash heist is legendary, for good reason.”
“Is it now?”
“It is. It surely is. I’ll be in your bullpen.”
Eve said nothing until he’d cleared the room.
“You didn’t have to say all that, give him all that.