"She's been holding up so well," Clooney muttered when Patsy left the room. "Almost too well. For the children, I imagine. Then this."

"What this, Clooney?" Eve didn't sit but turned her full attention on him. "What have you been telling her?"

"That her husband was a good man," he shot back. "And that you're doing your job."

He paused, held up a hand as he took the time to compose himself. "Look, I don't know where she got the information that you were heaping dirt on him. She won't tell me. All I know is I got a call from her a few hours ago. She was close to hysterical."

He picked up a little toy truck from the cushions of the couch, turned it over in his hand. "Kids," he said, as if to give himself a moment to calm down as well. "You never know what you're going to sit on when you've got kids in the house."

"What did she want from you, Sergeant?"

"Reassurance. That's all survivors want in the end. And that's what I've tried to give. I'd heard the talk around the squad the last day or two but didn't put much credence in it." He paused another moment. "I don't know you, so I didn't discount the talk, either. But it's not my function here to stir up the survivors. I've been working to calm her down since I got here."

"Fair enough. Can you think of any reason I'd decide to smear an honest cop I didn't even know?"

"No." Clooney sighed. "That's what I've been telling her. That's what I've been telling myself." What, he thought it would be unwise to admit, he'd been telling his captain. "But you've stirred up a lot of bad feelings in the One two-eight. It's hard to ignore that."

Patsy came back with a tray, set it on the table. "Taj would want me to try," she said quietly. "He'd want me to cooperate. I didn't know about this… operation. He never told me. I know about the money now, the other accounts. I… I thought you'd put it there. You have a rich husband. I was so angry."

"Now we both are." Eve sat. "I don't like being used to bring you pain or to damage the reputation of the man I've sworn to stand for. Who told you I put the money there?"

"No one told me, exactly." She looked tired again, and embarrassed. The heat of fury had burned away and left her empty and confused. "It was just one of the things some people were saying in the heat of the moment. He had a lot of friends in his squad. I didn't know he had so many. They've been so kind. His captain came here herself, to assure me that Taj would have an official memorial."

"Did Captain Roth tell you I was going after your husband's reputation?"

"No, no, not really. Just that no matter what anyone said, I could be proud of Taj. It meant a lot to me for her to say that, to my face. Most of the squad's come by, to pay their respects, and to offer to help in any way."

"But someone contacted you today?"

"Yes, but he was only trying to help. He only wanted me to know the squad was behind Taj a hundred percent. I didn't understand at first, then he said that I shouldn't let any of the trash coming out of your office concern me. It was all a setup. He even backed off when he saw I didn't know anything, but I pushed. Then he told me."

"Who told you?"

"I don't want him to get in trouble." She clasped her hands together, all but wrung them as she weighed confidentiality against justice for her husband. "Jerry Vernon. Detective Vernon. But he was only trying to help."

"I see. Was he a close friend of your husband's?"

"I don't think so. Not particularly. Taj didn't socialize a great deal with his co-workers. There were a few who came here to dinner, and some whose wives I got together with now and then."

"It would help me to know who his friends were."

"Oh, all right." She listed off a few names, seemed to relax a little more as she spoke.

"You're going to hurt my feelings, Patsy," Clooney said.

"Of course, you, Art." She took his hand, seemed to anchor to it.

"Taj was friendly with my son," Clooney explained. "Now and again they let the old man tag along for a beer on a boys' night out. For the most part, Taj was a homebody."

"Mrs. Kohli, you told me Taj called you that night, told you he was meeting someone after he'd finished at Purgatory."

"Yes, but he didn't tell me who, and I didn't ask. I guess I was getting a little tired of the long hours he was putting in. I was a bit short with him at first, but he brought me around. He always could," she said with a smile. "He promised it wouldn't be for too much longer, that he was close to having what he needed. I thought he meant the extra money for the new place we wanted. Then he told me to kiss the babies for him, and he said, 'I love you, Patsy.' It was the last thing he said to me. It was like him for that to be the last thing."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The assailant with the polite voice and the natty topcoat went by the name of Elmore Riggs. A quick search proved that it had been the name he'd been born with, some thirty-nine years before, in Vancouver, Canada.

There had been a small dispute with the Canadian authorities over smuggling explosive devices across the border, and Elmore had done some time before he'd been considered rehabilitated and had moved to New York.

His address was listed in a tidy, moderately wealthy enclave north of the city, and his profession was reported to be security consultant.

A fancy name for a hired hammer, Eve decided.

Armed with this data, she headed toward the Interview level to link up with Feeney and put Elmore Riggs through his paces.

Vernon stepped in front of her when she reached the top of the glide.

"A little out of your territory, aren't you, Detective?"

"You think you can shake me?" He gave her a body bump that had a number of the cops moving through the area pausing.

Eve simply waved the hand she held at her side to keep them back. "I don't know, Jerry. You look shaken."

"Everybody knows you're trying to throw trash at the squad. IAB sow's what you are. If you think you can dump on me like you're doing on Kohli and Mills, think again. I've contacted my union rep, and we're coming down on you."

"Gee, Vernon, now you're scaring me. Not the union rep." She gave a deliberate shudder.

"You won't be so smart when you're hit with a lawsuit, and I start bleeding that rich husband you hooked."

"My God, Peabody, a lawsuit. I feel faint."

"Don't worry, Lieutenant, I'll catch you."

"They'll take your badge." Vernon sneered. "Like they did before, only this time they'll keep it. Before I'm done, you'll wish you never heard my name."

"We aren't close to done, and I already wish that, Jerry." She grinned at him. "I've got you cold, and when Ricker gets wind of it, when he starts worrying how I'm tracing those numbered accounts you set up back to him, he's going to be very unhappy with you. I don't think your union rep's going to be much help where he's concerned."

"You got nothing. You're just trying to set me up. I figure you want Roth's job over the One two-eight, so you're messing us up so she gets the boot, and you can sail in. That's what she thinks, too."

"Make sure you put that in your lawsuit. How I pulled your name out of a hat and decided to dedicate myself to destroying you and your squad, so I can sit behind a desk. That ought to fly."

She shifted a little closer, her eyes drilling into his. "Only you'd better start thinking how to cover yourself. The money you've been taking isn't going to help much, since I'm arranging to have those accounts frozen. And while you're dealing with that, remember I'm the only one coming at you who has even a marginal interest in keeping you breathing. While I'm coming at your face, Ricker's going to be at your back. And there's a cop killer hunting dirty cops. You won't know which direction he's coming from."