Page 131 of Fury In Death

“I’m bagging some teeth,” Peabody told her.

“Missing teeth, broken nose. Beyond broken, it’s pulp. Shattered cheekbones, left and right, broken and dislocated jaw. Left arm broken at the elbow, elbow appears shattered. Broken shoulder, ribs, hip is misaligned. Both legs appear broken. Left foot is at a ninety-degree angle.

“Did he think he’d never face the consequences of what he’d done?” she wondered as she took out her gauges. “Did he sleep like a goddamn baby after he ordered the murder of all the people in that apartment building to cover his hit on Redman?”

“I think he did, to both,” Peabody said. “Some people have no, well, soul. What he did, what he would’ve done? He was a monster, Dallas. A monster in a twenty-thousand-dollar suit.”

“Yeah, and look at the suit now.” Reading time of death, she cursed. “Goddamn it. Goddamn it, he wasn’t dead more than ten minutes before we walked in here. Ten minutes.

“Christ, see if Whitney has Banner in custody. If he went there first, he’s gone, too.

“How did he get in? How the hell did he get in?”

She got up, walked out, and though she’d already checked them, checked the terrace doors again. Secured.

She opened them not only because she wanted air, but to consider.

“He didn’t climb up fifty-odd floors on the outside of the damn building. A long, scary leap or swing from that other terrace, but that would involve getting in the building first.”

She paced, went back in.

“He knew Wyst was here because he’s monitoring Wyst’s ’link. And he already knew the building because he plans, he studies, he tests. Elevator blocked. Maybe he managed to access it before? Maybe. Lying in wait?”

She shook her head because it didn’t feel right. The guards cleared the suite. And the victim had a drink—broken glass by the desk.

Still, she went back to the elevator, opened the doors, blocked them open, then went inside.

Then looked up.

“Son of a bitch!”

She left the doors blocked open, called Peabody.

“This is the way.”

“How would he do it? First, he’d have to get in the building.”

“Mezzanine.”

“Yeah, okay, but then he’d have to get up there. Okay maybe, maybe, he got a staff or resident swipe.”

“If he had it more than a few hours, they’d report it, and they’d deactivate it. The timing’s too narrow. Wyst just canceled the incoming and blocked the suite for himself this afternoon. Probably close to three. Redman couldn’t have anticipated that, so he’d have to get a swipe between that time and when he got in and beat Wyst to death. It doesn’t work.”

“Even if he did get a swipe, how does he get up there?”

“That’s what I’m going to find out. I’m going down, check the security feed, order a building search—inside shafts and air vents.”

“Uniforms should be here any minute.”

“Have them check staff areas, public areas, find out if anyone saw him. If anyone’s missing a swipe, a uniform.”

“Got it. Whitney has Banner in custody. He’s lawyered up. Reo says they’re pushing for no bail. Flight risk, mass murderer. She says he won’t get bail.”

“Good. I really want to talk to that bastard.”

Peabody glanced back at the buzz at the door, then at the security cam. “Uniforms.”

“Get them going.”