"I don't think so. A fanatic, but not a crank. Computer, run buildings, residential and commercial with the word luxury, in New York City, with view of the East River or the Hudson." She tapped her fingers. "I hate puzzle games."

"I kind of like them." Brows knit, Peabody leaned over Eve's shoulder as the computer went to work.

Luxury Arms

Sterling Luxury

Luxury Place

Luxury Towers

Eve pounced. "Access visual of Luxury Towers, on screen."

Working…

The image popped, a towering spear of silver with a glint of sunlight off the steel and shimmering on the Hudson at its base. On the far west wide, a stylish waterfall tumbled down a complex arrangement of tubes and channels.

"Gotcha."

"Can't be that easy," Peabody objected.

"He wanted it easy." Because, Eve thought, someone was already dead. "He wants to play and he wants to preen. Can't do either until we're in it. Computer, access name of residents on the top floor of the Luxury Towers."

Working… Penthouse is owned by The Brennen Group and is New York base for Thomas X. Brennen of Dublin, Ireland, age forty-two, married, three children, president and CEO of The Brennen Group, an entertainment and communications agency.

"Let's check it out, Peabody. We'll notify Dispatch on the way."

"Request backup?"

"We'll get the lay of the land first." Eve adjusted the strap on her weapon harness and shrugged into her jacket.

The traffic was just as bad as she'd suspected, bumping and grinding over wet streets, buzzing overhead like disoriented bees. Glide-carts huddled under wide umbrellas and did no business she could see. Steam rolled up out of their grills, obscuring vision and stinking up the air.

"Get the operator to access Brennen's home number, Peabody. If it's a hoax and he's alive, it'd be nice to keep it that way."

"On it," Peabody said and pulled out her 'link.