"There are cops feeding Ricker," Bayliss objected. "I'm on the point of breaking that network open."

"Be that as it may, Captain, there can be no law without order." Tibble watched him. "Particularly with those of us who have sworn to uphold that law. You'll take leave, with pay and without the suspension of benefits. Disciplinary action will be considered. You are advised to consult your union rep and/or your private attorney. You are dismissed."

"Chief Tibble-"

"Dismissed, Captain. Believe me when I tell you, you don't want me to indulge myself in personal comments at this time."

Bayliss set his teeth, turned on his heel. His eyes burned over Eve before he strode from the room.

"Captain Roth."

"Sir. If I might speak." She got quickly to her feet. "I request that the documentation on the investigation into my squad be made available to me. My men are under suspicion, my house under the gun."

"Captain Roth, your house is a mess. Request denied. You have until noon tomorrow to write a full report and a complete analysis of the status of your squad. I'm making your house my personal business and will expect you in this office with that report and analysis at noon."

"Yes, sir. Chief Tibble?"

"Yes, Captain."

"I accept full responsibility for that status. Mills was under my hand, and I can't claim to have held that hand steady. If, after this situation is resolved, you wish for my resignation-"

"Let's not jump our fences, Captain. Noon tomorrow."

"Yes, sir."

When she left, Tibble once again leaned on his desk. "Now, Lieutenant. Just how deep into this mess are you, and who is your informant? You are required to give me that name when ordered to do so. Consider this such an order."

"Sir, I am hip deep and regret I am unable to follow orders and divulge the name of my informant."

Tibble shot a look at Whitney. "I owe you fifty, it seems. Your commander bet me, and I was foolish enough to accept, that you'd hold the name. It's come to my attention you did a deep search on Captain Roth."

"Yes, sir. I initiated the search as part of my investigation into the homicides of Kohli and Mills. It's my belief they were killed by one of our own."

"So I gather. That's a very serious avenue to walk."

"Yes, sir."

"You suspect Roth?"

"She captains the squad. It would have been negligent not to consider her. I've questioned her, analyzed her data, and run a probability."

"And the result?"

"In the sixties."

"Low, but troubling. I won't take up your time or mine by asking you to go through the steps of your investigation. At this time," he qualified. "But I will ask you, Lieutenant, if your husband is connected to Max Ricker, on a personal level or a business one, and if that connection should concern this office."

"My husband is not connected to Max Ricker on a business level. It is my understanding that at one time, over a decade ago, there may have been some business between them."

"And on a personal level?"

This was tougher. "It was my impression, sir, during my interview with Ricker, that he held a personal grudge against Roarke. He did not specify this, but intimated. Roarke is a successful man, and a glamorized one," she said for lack of a better term. "Such status invites resentment and envy in certain types of individuals. However, I see no reason why a potential grudge held by Ricker for Roarke should concern this office."

"You're honest, Dallas. Carefully so. Almost politically so. And my saying that, I see, insults you."

"Somewhat," Eve managed.

"Do you have any conflict of feeling or loyalty in pursuing a killer who may be a fellow officer, even though the victims were dirty or perceived to be so?"

"None whatsoever. Law and order, Chief Tibble. We uphold the law. We are not allowed to nor are we equipped to judge and sentence."

"Good answer. She does you credit, Jack. Lieutenant," he continued while she dealt with the sheer surprise of his comment, "you'll report your findings to your commander and keep him closely apprised of your progress. Go to work."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

"One last thing," he said as she reached the door. "Bayliss would like your skin on a rack-roasted."

"Yes, sir, I'm aware of that. He wouldn't be the first."

When the door closed, Tibble went behind his desk. "It's a fucking mess, Jack. Let's pick up some shovels and start cleaning it up."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Nice job, Dallas." Feeney rode down with her to lobby level. "Now I'm going to tell you what they didn't. If Bayliss gets back behind his desk, he's going to be gunning for you."

"I can't let a rat turd like Bayliss worry me. I got two cops and one witness in the morgue. Until I work through the layers of that, Bayliss can blow all the hot air he wants."

"Enough hot air blows at you, you get scalded. Just watch your back. I'm going over to your place, switch off with McNab for awhile."

"I'll meet you back there. I want to swing by Kohli's, have another talk with the widow. I'll pull Peabody. You know an Illegals Detective, Jeremy Vernon?"

Lips pursed, Feeney ran through his head files. "Nope. Doesn't ring for me."

"He's got an attitude-and a fat bank account. I'm probably going to pull him in for a chat, tomorrow latest. You want in on that?"

"I always like sitting in on one of your chats."

They separated, with Eve moving through the late-lunch pedestrian traffic to her vehicle. She waited for a maxibus to clear, contacting Peabody as she pulled away from the curb.

"I'm on my way to Kohli's. Meet me there. I want a follow-up with the widow."

"I'll head out now. Dallas, McNab's picked up three more accounts for Detective Vernon. We've got a total of two million six, and still counting."

"Isn't that interesting? Look, Feeney's on his way over there. I want McNab to pick his way through Vernon's financials. Make certain the son of a bitch didn't win some lottery or inherit a bundle from one of those dead relatives. Pin down his income and his outlay. I don't want to give him any wiggle room when I pull him in."

"Yes, sir. I'll report to the Kohli residence as soon as our city's marvelous public transportation system will get me there."

"Take a cab. Put it on expense account."

"Do I have one?"

"Jesus, Peabody, put it on mine. Get moving."

She cut transmission and let her mind wander through the tiers of her case while she cut across town.

There was a corruption problem in the One two-eight. In the Illegals Division and potentially elsewhere. The corruption pointed at Max Ricker, and two of the detectives on the task force formed to take him down were dead. One of them had been in Ricker's pocket.

IAB had conducted an unauthorized and clandestine operation involving the other of those detectives as a plant.

In Purgatory, she reminded herself. Roarke's place. What did Ricker have to do with Roarke's club?

Had Bayliss been fishing there, trying to dig up the old connection? The man struck her as a fanatic, but that was reaching.

Still, IAB had sent Webster, an old connection of hers, to feed her misinformation on Kohli.

The captain of the squad had either let her men get beyond her control or was part of the corruption. She had a problem, or she was one. Either way, Eve had a ranking officer on her short list of murder suspects.

Ricker was a key, maybe the key. He'd lured the cops and most certainly knew which members of the department were on his payroll. His businesses, she imagined, depended heavily on them. If she found enough of them, pulled them out of the loop, would he come out? Come after her?

As much as she'd enjoy that, and emptying the dirty cops out of his pocket, those were second-level goals. Her first was to flush those cops in order to find a killer.