Everyone off to school, Eve thought, or to work, or to the shops, running errands. The minute she unsealed and unlocked the door, she thought someone else had run errands. “Well, either Asner was a really messy guy, or somebody beat us to it.” Peabody stood, lips pursed, as they surveyed the jumble of the small living area. The contents of upended drawers scattered over the floor mixed with debris from closets, cabinets. In limp gray puffs, the stuffing spilled out, like disgorged intestines, from the cushions of the faded sofa and armchair. “It’s empty, but let’s clear it anyway.” Eve drew her weapon, peeled off toward the tiny bedroom. It wouldn’t have mattered if they’d come in sooner, she thought, replacing her weapon. But damn, it was annoying. “The killer wanted to make sure he got all copies of the recording. Or Asner didn’t have the original in the office. Either way, this is a thorough job. Careful, too,” Eve observed as she picked her way through, “even with the mess.
