Page 22 of Random in Death

Somebody jabbed me.

And looks left.

He sees her. Is he pleased with her angry look? He’s already slipped the syringe back in his pocket, but doesn’t he take that one moment to look at her, maybe to meet her angry eyes before he melts away?

He doesn’t run, running draws attention, but walks—as Eve does now—off the floor, brushing and bumping others as he does. It’s crowded, it’s loud, the lights are dim and red.

Skirt the tables, keep going.

Straight to the men’s room. Already scoped it out, planned the way out to avoid the security cams. Cops would look hard at anyone leaving in this time frame.

Music pumps against the walls.

If somebody’s there, use the urinal, use a stall, just wait. If not, move fast now.

She lifted her hands, boosted up. She didn’t need to brace her foot on the wall, and had no trouble easing through the window to the alley.

She could still hear the music, dimmer now, but still playing as she looked down the alley.

She walked back and went inside just as the song ended.

“Want we should play it again?” Harve asked when she stepped back into the club area.

“No, that’s fine. You can shut it down. We’ll get out of your way. We appreciate your cooperation.”

“We’re going to stay closed tomorrow, out of respect. But Blondie has our contacts if there’s anything we can do. And when you find out that how and why, we’d sure like to know.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

She walked back to the table. “We’re clear here. We’ll give you a lift home. McNab, can you pick up the face rec from where Roarke left off?”

“I’ll be on it.”

Outside, she let the night air wash over her. “He had a plan. It would’ve taken him less than ninety seconds to get off the dance floor and into the men’s room after he injected her. And it’s timed,” she continued as she got in the car. “Last song before the break. After the break, the bathrooms are going to be swamped, lines into the hall.”

“And the song’s a classic,” McNab told her. “It’s one of those that has people pouring out on the dance floor. Art said they generally play it before a break. Art’s the married one. He was on the ’link with his wife during the break. They’re expecting their second kid pretty soon. I verified that.”

“Good. Okay, so the chances the john’s clear go up. He timed it. He’ll be a teenager or look like one. An adult would’ve stuck out, even a parent.”

“Parents danced, too.” Peabody stifled a yawn. “But from my interviews, they stuck to the fringes, gave the kids the floor.”

Filing that away, Eve nodded. “Slight build, shorter than me, or sloppy core. He had to work to get out the window, use his feet to boost up. I didn’t. But he knew the club well enough to know he had that route out. He knew the band well enough to know how to time the attack and the escape.

“We can’t be sure yet if he knew the victim or just picked her out of the crowd.”

“If he didn’t know her, what’s the motive?”

Eve gave Peabody a shrug. “To be determined. Morgue, eight hundred sharp,” she added when Roarke pulled up at the apartment building. “Thanks for the assist, McNab.”

“I go with She-Body.”

He got out, then leaned in her window. “You know how Feeney feels about kid killers.”

“I do.”

“And how he feels about Avenue A.”

“Yeah.”

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