Annoyed with the traffic delays, Eve sounded her siren. She'd have had the same response if she'd leaned out the window and shouted. Cars remained packed together like lovers, giving not an inch.

"No answer," Peabody told her. "Voice-mail announcement says he's away for two weeks beginning today."

"Let's hope he's bellied up to a pub in Dublin." She scanned the traffic again, gauged her options. "I have to do it."

"Ah, Lieutenant, not in this vehicle."

Then Peabody, the stalwart cop, gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut in terror as Eve stabbed the vertical lift. The car shuddered, creaked, and lifted six inches off the ground. Hit it again with a bone-shuddering thud.

"Goddamn piece of dog shit." Eve used her fist this time, punching the control hard enough to bruise her knuckles. They did a shaky lift, wobbled, then streamed forward as Eve jabbed the accelerator. She nipped the edge of an umbrella, causing the glide-cart hawker to squeal in fury and hotfoot in pursuit for a half a block.

"The damn hawker nearly caught the bumper." More amazed than angry now, Eve shook her head. "A guy in air boots nearly outran a cop ride. What's the world coming to, Peabody?"

Eyes stubbornly shut, Peabody didn't move a muscle. "I'm sorry, sir, you're interrupting my praying."

Eve kept the sirens on, delivering them to the front entrance of the Luxury Towers. The descent was rough enough to click her teeth together, but she missed the glossy fender of an XRII airstream convertible by at least an inch.

The doorman was across the sidewalk like a silver bullet, his face a combination of insult and horror as he wrenched open the door of her industrial beige city clunker.

"Madam, you cannot park this… thing here."

Eve flicked off the siren, flipped out her badge. "Oh yeah, I can."

His mouth only stiffened further as he scanned her ID. "If you would please pull into the garage."