Page 101 of Bonded in Death

He slid right into the underground parking of a steel and glass tower.

“He could have a place here, minutes from the house. But it doesn’t fit. Too many people coming and going, no garage, not enough room to work.”

“Penthouse B for the Cornings.”

The elevator required a swipe for that level. Roarke took one, suspiciously blank, out of his pocket, and accessed the floor.

“Do they have a vehicle?”

“Ah.” He pulled out his PPC. “A 2061 black Majestic. Four-door sedan.”

“We’re here making inquiries about an accident involving same. Quiet building.”

“I swiped in express.”

“Still more handy.”

When the doors opened, she stepped into a wide hallway carpeted in quiet blue with walls of the palest of pale golds. Flowers, fresh and bride-white, stood on a polished table. Their rich scent followed her down the hallway to Penthouse B.

Top-of-the-line security, she noted. Palm plate, swipe code, security cam. Eve pressed the buzzer.

And recognized Darlena Corning’s voice through the intercom.

“Yes? Corning residence.”

“Ms. Corning.” Eve held up her badge. “NYPSD. If we could have a word.”

“Goodness gracious! The police! Roger, it’s the police!”

Locks thumped before the door opened to a woman in a stylish black cocktail dress with every blond hair in place. Her eyes, more gray than blue, held a kind of giddy anticipation.

“Has there been a burglary? An assault? A murder! Roger!”

“No, ma’am. If we could step inside?”

“Of course, of course.”

Like the woman, the entranceway and the living area beyond had everything in place. A man, his tie loosened, his feet in house skids, wandered in with two snifters of brandy.

“Oh, company.”

“They’re the police! I called you.”

“Did you? My, my, Darlie, will I have to make your bail?”

“Don’t be silly.” But she giggled. “You should sit down.”

“We’ll only take a moment of your time. You own a 2061 four-door black Majestic sedan?”

“Is that what it is? Roger?”

“Yes. We do.”

“A vehicle of that description was involved in an accident about an hour ago on Third Avenue.”

“Oh goodness! While we were having dinner with friends. We only just returned home. We didn’t drive at all, did we, Roger? There would be cocktails and wine, so we took a cab there and back again. Baritello’s.”

Eve nearly followed up with the standard questions, but cut things off. “We appreciate that information. Did you use your ’link this evening, Ms. Corning?”

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