Night kills

49

Wes Nobbler and Greeve had gotten to Ruth Malpass's apartment first and confiscated her notebook computer. After that, it was seconds for Quinn and his team. When they requested the laptop, they were informed that Nobbler and Greeve were the real NYPD, but that they'd share.

Quinn informed Renz of this, and Renz promptly phoned and gave Nobbler one of his better ass-chewings and made it clear who was working the Torso Murders case.

It wasn't Nobbler.

Nobbler had reluctantly given Quinn's team a copy of the hard drive of Malpass's computer's, made after Pearl and an NYPD computer whiz observed the transfer of the files to make sure it was complete.

The drive revealed no sign of E-Bliss.org. Pearl had gone over it and found some e-mail messages and addresses to follow up on, but nothing promising. The computer's Internet history was also unrevealing. Ruth had read several newspapers online and regularly visited a few show-business sites and gossip blogs. Pearl had reported that Ruth had bought lots of shoes over the Internet. That meant nothing other than that Pearl had new sources of shoes.

Today Pearl and Fedderman were getting follow-up statements from Ruth's neighbors, who were telling them what a fine woman Ruth was. That had been the report from two of the actors and the producer of Major Mary, the musical she'd been costuming.

Quinn got a key from the super and entered Ruth's apartment. It was pretty much what he expected except for the scent; there was a sachet or something like one somewhere giving off a faint whiff of cinnamon. The apartment was a functionally furnished loft, with a southern exposure and shelves of art books and pottery and sculpture. There was a shiny steel framework on one wall that held clothes. At first Quinn thought they were Ruth's and simply didn't fit in the big oak wardrobe, but then he realized they must be part of her work.

Near a window was a wooden drafting board with a large pad of paper on it. The top sheet was curled back over the high end of the slanted board. There was no chair nearby. Ruth must have stood while she worked.

"Hello?"

Quinn was startled by the voice. He turned and saw a short woman with no waist and a lot of frizzy blond hair. She was wearing loosely cut jeans and a sleeveless white blouse. Her incredibly large blue eyes were the sort that didn't blink much. They looked frightened.

"I'm Hettie Crane from downstairs," she said, "a neighbor and good friend of Ruth's. When I heard what happened to her…"

Whatever else she'd been about to say was choked off by emotion.

"I know," Quinn told her gently. He introduced himself, showing her his shield.

Hettie only glanced at it, but wouldn't have been able to see it well anyway from as far away as she was. She stood stiff legged where she'd stopped just inside the door, as if she might be invading Ruth's privacy if she ventured farther into the apartment. The way her friend died had obviously shaken Hettie's world.

"You all right, dear?"

Hettie nodded. She lifted her chin slightly and tried to smile, but her facial muscles wouldn't cooperate.

"It always smelled so good in here," she said. "Ruth burned scented candles." Her eyes became moist. She swallowed.

Quinn smiled at her and decided to give her time to wrestle some more with her new reality. Her juicy blue gaze followed him as he walked over to the drafting board.

The top sheet of paper was filled with skillfully rendered sketches of what looked like military uniforms, male and female. Quinn flipped the raised sheet of paper and saw more of the same.

"These mean anything to you?" he asked Hettie, keeping his tone casual.

She reluctantly came over to stand next to him where she could see Ruth's drawings.

"They're costume concepts for Major Mary," she said. "I know because I'm directing the play. It was set to open in a couple of months." She moved closer and looked again at the sketches. "It'll still open. We'll use Ruth's costuming ideas. These sketches. They're far enough along, and she would have wanted it that way." She looked up at Quinn. Her eyes were still teary. "It'll be at the Marlborough Theater in the Village. It's a musical comedy."

"Good luck with it," Quinn said, and meant it. "Did you know Ruth well?"

"Very well. She's the one who recommended me for my apartment. This building rents to a lot of theater people."

"So you had mutual friends."

"Quite a few," Hettie said.

"Was Ruth involved with anyone?"

"Romantically? Sexually?"

"Either one," Quinn said, smiling.

"She broke off about four months ago with this guy she'd been seeing. Buddy Erb. He's an actor."

"Know where he can be found?"

"In L.A. He does the voice-over in that commercial where the frog recommends an insurance company and then drives an SUV off a cliff. You know the one?"

"Sure."

"Buddy does a great frog."

"Got that kinda voice," Quinn said. "They fight or anything when they broke up?"

"No, they just got tired of each other. It was pretty much over when Buddy got the job offer."

"The frog?"

"Yeah. Which meant he had to move to the West Coast."

"Yuck," Quinn said. "All that sun and surf."

Hettie gave him a look. She knew what he was doing, loosening her up, getting her to talk so maybe she'd yield a nugget of information. It was okay with her. She wanted the big, homely-handsome cop to catch the animal who had killed her friend.

The guy has an interesting face, Hettie thought. Rugged and memorable. And so, so trustworthy. He should have been an actor. Leading man. Not that he wasn't way too old for her…

Not that he wasn't an actor, in his own way.

"I know Buddy pretty well," she said. "He's an actor, not a killer. And from what I hear, his sexual needs are standard issue. If you check, I'm sure you'll find he was on the other side of the continent when Ruth was killed."

"We'll check. You know how we are." Quinn ran his fingertips over the sketch pad, as if trying to gain some knowledge about the sketches' creator. "Ruth date a lot?" he asked.

"Some. She liked men, but she was busy much of the time. Especially lately, what with Major Mary."

"You recall her mentioning anyone?"

"Since Buddy? No."

"Since Buddy, did she ever use a dating service?"

"I doubt it. Ruth was great to look at. Men liked her. If she wanted to go out, there was always somebody there."

"I don't want to sound like a TV cop-"

"You'd make a great TV cop."

"But did Ruth have any enemies whom you know of?"

"Everybody loved Ruth." Hettie gave him a sad grin. "More TV dialogue, but it happens to be true. She was a terrific and talented person. Even the sicko who killed her must have loved her in his own twisted way."

"How so?"

"He chose her, didn't he?"