In Death 22 - Memory in Death

proved that black wasn’t necessarily slimming.
    He made them as cops the minute they stepped in. Eve saw the flicker in his eyes, the important rolling back of his shoulders.
    The floor didn’t actually vibrate when he crossed the room, but she wouldn’t have called him light on his feet.
    He gave them both a hard look out of nut-brown eyes, and showed his teeth.
    “You got a problem ?”
    Peabodywas a little late with the answer, habitually waiting for Eve to take the lead. “Depends. We’d
    like to talk to your boss.”
    “Zero’s busy.”
    “Gosh, then I guess we’ll have to wait.”Peabodytook a long look around. “While we’re waiting we
    might as well take a look at your licenses.” Now she showed her teeth as well. “I like busywork. Maybe we’ll chat up some of your clientele. Community relations, and all that.”
    As she spoke, she pulled out her badge. “Meanwhile you can tell him Detective Peabody, and my partner, Lieutenant Dallas, are waiting.”
    Peabodystrolled over to a table where a man in a business suit and a womanwho looked unlikely to
    be his wife due to the amount of breast spilling out of her pink spangled topwere huddled. “Good afternoon, sir!” She greeted him with an enthusiastic smile, and all the blood drained out of his face.
    “And what brings you into this fine establishment this afternoon?”
    He got quickly to his feet, mumbled about having an appointment. As he rabbited, the woman rose. As she was about six inches taller thanPeabody, she pushed those impressive breasts inPeabody’s face.
    “I’m doing business here! I’m doing business here!”
    Still smiling,Peabodytook out a memo book. “Name, please?”
    “What the fuck!”
    “Ms. What-the-Fuck, I’d like to see your license.”
    “Bull!”
    “No, really. Just a spotcheck.”
    “Bull.” She spun herself and those breasts toward the bouncer. “This cop ran off my John.”
    “I’m sorry, I’d like to see your companion license. If everything’s in order, I’ll let you get back to work.”
    Bulland it seemed the day for people to have names appropriate to their bodiesflanked Peabody,
    who now looked, Eve thought, like a slight yet sturdy filling between two bulky pieces of bread.
    Eve rolled to her toes, just in case.
    “You got no right coming in here rousting customers.”
    “I’m just using my time wisely while we wait to speak with Mr. Gant. Lieutenant, I don’t believe
    Mr. Bull appreciates police officers.”
    “Igotbetteruseforwomen.”
    Eve rolled onto her toes again, and her tone was cool as the December breeze. “Want to try to use me? Bull.”
    She saw the movement out of the corner of her eye, the flash of color on the narrow, spiral stairs that
    led to the second level. “Looks like your boss has time after all.”
    Another appearance-appropriate name, she decided. The man was barely five feet in height and couldn’t have weighed a hundred pounds. He used the short guy’s compensation swagger and wore a bright blue suit with a florid pink shirt. His hair was short, straight, reminding her of pictures of Julius Caesar.
    It was ink black, like his eyes.
    A silver eyetooth winked as he offered a smile.
    “Something I can do for you, Officers?”
    “Mr. Gant?”
    He spread his hands, nodded atPeabody. “Just call me Zero.”
    “I’m afraid we’ve had a complaint. We’re going to need you to come downtown and answer some questions.”
    “What sort of complaint?”
    “It involves the sale of illegal substances.”Peabodyglanced to one of the privacy cubes. “Such as the ones currently being ingested by some of your clientele.”
    “Privacy booths.” This time he raised his spread hands in a shrug. “Hard to keep your eye on everyone. But I’ll certainly have those people removed. I run a class establishment.”
    “We’ll talk about that downtown.”
    “Am I under arrest?”
    Peabodylifted her eyebrows. “Do you want to be?”
    The good humor in Zero’s eyes hardened into something much less pleasant. “Bull, contact Fienes, have him meet me …”
    “Cop Central,”Peabodysupplied. “With DetectivePeabody.”
    Zero got his coat, a long white number that probably was one hundred percent cashmere. As they
    stepped outside, Eve looked down at him.
    “You got an idiot on your door, Zero.”
    Zero lifted his shoulders. “He has his uses.”
    * * *
    Eve took a winding route through Central, giving Zero a bored glance. “Holidays,” she said vaguely as they