“Subjects entering the theater.”
“Copy that. Keep eyes on them.”
“On them now. They’re heading straight to the bar. Ordering a bottle of champagne for their box. Making a big show of it, a lot of loud, hearty laughter, drawing attention. They’re heading in now. Staff’s scrambling to get it up to their box before curtain.”
Establishing the alibi, Eve thought. “Take positions. One of them goes to take a leak, you’re with them.”
“I think I’ll leave that to the new guy. Out.”
“Cutting it close,” Eve said. “Getting there five minutes to curtain, ordering champagne. The bartender will remember them, and so will the servers and some of the people milling around.”
Idiots, she thought, but not completely stupid.
“They’ll need to wait until the performance starts to make any move. Wait until people are watching the stage, the house is dark. But soon. It has to be soon. Cut it out.” She gave Peabody a shove. “You’re making my eye twitch.”
“We’re just sitting here.”
“I know sex giggles when I hear them.”
“I wasn’t giggling.”
“Not you. Him.”
McNab just grinned at her. “Those were manly chuckles.”
“You’re cops. Be cops.”
She shifted, scowled. “What are you smiling at?” she demanded of Roarke.
“Why don’t you sit here and I’ll tell you.” With a sparkling look in his eyes, he patted his knee. “And I might produce a manly chuckle of my own.”
“Stop it. You’re embarrassing Feeney.”
“I’m past it,” Feeney muttered and kept his head down. “Surrounded by a bunch of giggling, twitching, chuckling fools when we’re on an op looking to take down a couple of crazy thrill killers.”
“Didn’t I tell them to cut it out?”
“You give them any attention you just encourage them.” He said it mournfully, raising his gaze to hers. “Now I’ll start twitching because you chipped the wall.”
“What wall?”
“The wall I build in my head so I don’t hear the sex giggles. Now you chipped it, and I’ll hear them, and I’ll be twitching.”
“So it’s my fault? Your wall’s weak, that’s what it is, if I can chip it just by mentioning—Shut up,” she ordered, snapping to when her ’link signaled. “Everybody zip it.” She looked at the display, and then she smiled. “Showtime.”
She scrubbed her fingers in her hair to disorder it, slapped her cheeks to pink them up, then brought the ’link close to her face. From Dudley. “The fuck you want, asshole?” she demanded, slurring her words.
“Lieutenant Dallas, thank God. You have to listen to me. I only have a few moments.”
“Screw you.”
“No, no, don’t cut me off. I need your help. It’s Sly. I think . . . dear God, I think he’s mad.”
“Speak up. It’s noisy in this place. I can barely hear you.”
“I can’t risk speaking any louder.” He continued to use dramatic hisses and whispers. “Listen to me, listen! I think he killed Delaflote, and poor Adrianne. The things he said after you left Lionel’s . . . I can’t believe it. He was so angry, and frightened, too. He said . . . I can’t tell you all this over the ’link. He’s drinking, too much. I think I can get away, soon. Make an excuse, or hope he passes out and get away to meet you. I need to tell you . . . please, you have to meet me.”
“Where the fuck are you? I’ll call it in, slap his drunk ass in restraints.”
“No, no! What if I’m wrong? He’s my oldest, dearest friend. Have pity. I’m asking for your help. Yours, Lieutenant, because you’ll know what to do. If I’m overreacting, you’ll know, and Sly won’t be embarrassed. And if I’m right, you’ll solve these horrible murders tonight before he . . . You’ll be a heroine, again. You’ll be credited for stopping this madness. You alone. I don’t want my name involved. It’s . . . painful. Please, please. I’m at the Strathmore Center. I can slip out. I can’t go far. I’ll have to get back before intermission in case . . . Our Lady of Shadows. It’s only a block away.”
Inside, her smile spread even as she scowled into the ’link. “A freaking church?”
“It’s close, and we can talk without being interrupted or overheard. I have to trust you. I have to trust you’ll know what to do. I’ll be there in twenty minutes, and then I’ll tell you everything I know. You’re the only one I can tell.”
“Yeah, yeah, fine. It’d better be good, Dudley. I’ve had a shitty day.”
She cut him off, tapped the ’link against her palm. “They do think I’m stupid.”
“Pissed-faced and stupid,” Roarke added. “They’ll double-team you.”
“Absolutely. Feeney.”
“I’ve got it.”
“McNab, take the wheel while I bring in the teams. I want street level and I want no more than two blocks from the target site.”
“You got it.”
“What are you doing on that thing?” Eve asked as Roarke worked on his PPC.
“Bringing up the floor plans of the church again. You’ll want to refresh your sense of the place.”
“He thinks like a cop,” she said to Feeney. “He hates when I say that, but what’re you going to do? Dudley said twenty, so he’ll be there in fifteen or sooner. I’ll need to hoof it in those bastards for a block, from the east, in case one of them’s watching for me. Dudley’s using,” she added. “His pupils were the size of dinner plates. Moriarity’s likely had a few hits, too.”
“Don’t think that makes them less dangerous,” Roarke said.
“No, I don’t. But it’s what’s making them careless, what’s pushing them as much—more, I guess, than the show we put on for them earlier.” She took the PPC from Roarke, studied it. “Okay, as we laid out when Baxter’s team reported the droid’s movements, we put men here and here.”
She looked at Peabody, got a nod. “Second team outside, covering the exits. I want them kept back until we know both subjects are inside, and I don’t want anybody breaking cover until I give that go. Clear?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll go in now, take this position. McNab—”
“I’ll take the other.”
Peabody started to speak, but subsided when she saw the look in Roarke’s eyes.
“All right. The two of you take the inside positions.” Eve would have offered Roarke her clutch piece but she knew damn well if Summerset had gotten the change of clothes for her, he’d have gotten a weapon to Roarke. She didn’t want to know how he’d gotten one through security.
“I want inside, Dallas.”
She glanced up at McNab as he maneuvered the van to the curb. He could irritate the hell out of her, but she trusted him to the bone. “You take position with Peabody. I’d better not hear any sex giggles.”
She tapped her ear. “Copy that. Dudley’s on the move. Stay where you are, Carmichael, until Moriarity makes his move. Give him room. Team A better get its asses to church.”
Roarke leaned to her, spoke with his lips against her ear. “Think twice before you let them put a single mark on you if you want them in one piece and conscious for your arrest.”
Before she could speak, he turned his head, pressed his lips firmly to hers. “Take care of my cop,” he told her, and jumped out the back after Peabody.
Eve reached for the shoes, met Feeney’s bland stare. “What?”
“I didn’t say a word. We got some body armor if you want it.”
“Makes me look fat,” she said and made him laugh.
“Wouldn’t help anyway if they try a head shot. Here.” He reached in one of the drawers, pulled out a bottle.
“Christ, Feeney, I’m not going to drink that, and I’m sure as hell not going to drink before I run this op.”
“You’re going to swish it around in your mouth and spit it out.” He held a glass out along with the bottle of Irish. “You want them to think you’re drunk enough to fall for this crap, walk into their half-assed trap? You should smell drunk.”
“Good point.”
She took it, swished it, and while swishing dabbed some on her throat like perfume to make him laugh again. Then spat. Leaning forward she huffed out an exaggerated breath in his face. “How’s that?”
“You’ll do. Are we having cow meat burgers tomorrow?”
“Probably.”