"You remember her, Eve." He brushed his lips over her hair. "Perhaps you're the only one who does."
In the morning, she got up early enough to do a hard, sweaty workout, then took a long swim. She beat off the fatigue and the vague, nagging hangover from the nightmare.
And because she knew he'd keep at her until she gave in anyway, she sat down in the sitting area of the bedroom and ate the oatmeal Roarke ordered for her.
But she cast a suspicious eye on the milky liquid in the glass beside her coffee. "What's that?"
"A protein drink."
"I don't need a protein drink. I'm eating the stupid oatmeal, aren't I?"
"You'll have both." He stroked a hand over Galahad's head, then gave his attention to Eve rather than the morning financials scrolling by on-screen. "They'll offset the candy bar you probably plan to have for lunch. You didn't sleep well."
"I've got a lot on my mind. How come you don't have to have a protein drink?"
He forked up a section of grapefruit. "Can't abide the stuff. And I'm not the one who's going to have to deal with the mayor today."
"Yeah. I have to get started on that."
"I'm sure he'll find it an even more unpleasant way to start his day than you do yours. Drink up, Lieutenant."
She scowled, but drank. She was actually starting to like whatever he dumped in those mixes. "This data doesn't go to the rest of the team yet. I have to report it to Whitney, probably Tibble, and won't that be fun?"
"We should have your virus fully ID'd today. You're closing in."
"I've been thinking about that, too." She looked toward the data center. "I've been making plenty of noise. They'll know I've got some solid leads now. Could they dump that virus in this system here?"
"This system's security is a great deal more complex than what you'll find on other home systems."
Galahad inched toward the table, the plates. Roarke merely gave him one cool look. The cat shot up a leg and began to wash as if that had been the plan all along.
"And I've taken separate precautions," he continued, "based on the shield we've been working on in the lab. I can't give you a hundred percent guarantee, but unless they upgrade and modify what they've used to date, no. They can't infect this system."
"Let me take it in another direction. If there was an attempt to infect, can you rig some alarm, some detector, whatever, to alert us to it, maybe track the source?"
"You interest me, Lieutenant. I've already started working on that. It can't be done with any real success until we complete the full ID. But your lab rats have been devising some creative options. Jamie's particularly skilled in this area. I swear, if the boy wasn't determined to be you, he'd make his first billion before... well, before I made mine."
"If you could track it from this system, would you be able to track it back from one of the infected units?" She saw the look on his face. "Okay, so I'm one step behind the master geek plan. You get me that today, I might just dig up a pair of garters."
"I want the corset, too. And the shoes."
"You get me a source location, you get the shoes."
"I'm really starting to like this job. You have to wear the shoes the whole time we-"
"Let's not push it, pal." She rose. "I'm going to make this call from my office."
***
She closed her door. Though she wasn't sure of Whitney's schedule, she assumed he was already on the way in from Westchester. She tried his car 'link, and didn't mind admitting to herself that she'd timed it so she didn't have to tag him at home and chance dealing with his wife.
"Whitney."
"Sir. There's been a development in the investigation that requires your attention, and I believe Chief Tibble's."
"What development?"
"I don't believe I can discuss this over 'link, Commander. My judgment puts this at Code Five."
She saw his eyes narrow. Code Five meant complete madia block, and all departmental records would be sealed during the investigation.
"Are you at your home office?"
"Yes, sir. I can be at Central in-"
"No. The chief is closer to you than downtown. For that matter, at this point, so am I. I'll contact him. Expect us within thirty minutes."
"Yes, sir."
"Has your team been informed of this development?"
"No, sir. Just the expert consultant who was working with me when this new development surfaced."
"Keep it that way for now. Out."
Even as the screen blanked, there was a quick knock on her door. Nadine burst in.
"Damn it, Nadine, when I close a door it's because I want it closed. I don't have time for the media. Go away."
"Don't be so hasty." She closed the door at her back, then crossing the room at a clip, tossed a disc to Eve. "I went to a lot of trouble to get that to you and I don't want anyone to know you got it from me."
"Why, and what is it?"
"Why, because it could be perceived as taking media/police relations one step too far. I've a strong feeling the bosses at 75 would think so. What it is, is a copy of the home vid 75 boughtafter what I'm told was a rapid and lively negotiation from a tourist. A tourist who was taking a spin on an airtram when Nick Greene ran out on his balcony. They're going to air at nine, sharp. I wanted to give you a heads up."
"Channel 75 is going to air a guy killing himself?"
"I'm not saying I approve. I'm not saying I disapprove. This hits at nine, it's going to be big. What I will say, for your ears only, is I disapprove of going public with it without informing the police first. The vid doesn't change the outcome, the investigation, but I don't like the way it might stir up more support for Purity. So I'm giving you time to structure a response."
"Have you looked at this?" Eve held up the disc.
"I ran it on my way over. It's grim, it's ugly. And it makes Greene look like a monster. It's going to be easy to look at it and think: Thank God he's dead."
"Give me the name of the tourist."
"I can't do it." She pushed impatiently at her mane of hair. "Dallas, even if I knew, I couldn't do it. A source is a source."
"Is this your story?"
"No."
"Then he's not your source."
Nadine shook her head. "I'll only go so far over, same as you. If you're thinking this guy was a plant, I don't see how he could've been. But I'll look into it. I will promise if I smell a setup, I'll spill."
Satisfied, Eve nodded. "Tell me one thing. How much they shell out for this?"
"Dallas-"
"Off the record, Nadine. For both of us. I'm just curious."
"One cool mil for twenty seconds of feed."
"I guess he really hit the jackpot. I know you didn't have to do this. I won't forget it."
"So, you owe me one."
"I don't like to owe. Something's going to bust," she said after a moment. "Likely within the next day or two. Don't bother to ask any questions, I won't answer. When it goes down and I'm cleared to talk about it, I'll give you an exclusive."
"Within an hour after it goes down."
"I can't promise that. At the first possible opportunity."
"Good enough. I've got to go. And I was never here."
When the door was closed again, Eve slid in the new disc, ordered a run.
She saw Greene's balcony, saw the door swing open. He came out fast, he came out bloody. The image bobbled as the operator jerked at what he saw through his viewer, and she heard his gasping oath. But he was cool enough to zoom in.
Yes, he looked like a monster, Eve thought. Blood literally dripping from his fingers, his hair. His mouth was wide, his eyes wild and red as a demon's. He hacked at the air with the knife, beat a fist against his own head.
He raced from one end of the terrace to the other, batting at the air as if swatting at insects. Then gripping the knife in both hands, he threw back his head. And plunged it into his own chest.
"Holy shit." Jamie stood in the doorway leading to Roarke's offic
e. His jaw was slack, his gaze riveted to Eve's view screen.
"Goddamn it. End run. That door was closed."
"Sorry. Roarke asked me to... I was just getting something for him and wanted to ask you-doesn't matter." He took a steadying breath, scrubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. "That's the guy from yesterday, right? Yesterday's homicide."
"You should be in the lab."
"I'm part of this team." His chin came up. "My grandfather was a cop, and I'm going to be one. I've seen blood before. I killed a man."
"Shut up." She snapped it out, striding over to close the door behind him. "There's an official report, with my name on it, that states Alban was killed during the struggle to disarm and arrest. You want to fuck me over, Jamie, you keep saying you killed a man."
"I wouldn't do anything to mess you up." Something of what he felt for her, the core of love he tried to bury under a blanket of teenaged cool, surfaced on his face. "I'd never do that, Dallas."
Because she saw it, she eased back before it embarrassed them both. "Okay."
"This is between you and me. I know you kept me out of the briefing yesterday, and I can figure why. You didn't think I should see something like that." He nodded toward the screen. "The new guy, Trueheart, he's what? Three years older than me? Maybe four. What's the difference?"
"He's wearing a uniform."
"So will I."
She studied his face. Something in those gray eyes was already half-cop. "Yeah. Yeah, you will. Look, I'm not saying you can't handle yourself. There's a lot of bad shit out there. You see too much of it too soon, it can swallow you up before you get started."
"I've already seen a lot of it."
"There's more that's just as bad. There's more that's worse. You get through the Academy, you put on the uniform. That's soon enough to start dealing with it."
"Okay."
"Now scram. And do me a favor. I've got a meeting, a private meeting in a few minutes. Keep everyone the hell out of here."
"Sure." He grinned and looked terrifyingly young. "Trueheart's got a little thing for you."
"Get out."
As he laughed, she gave him a shove and shut the door in his face. She went back to her desk, copied the disc for her files, then sealed the other for her commander.
She took the rest of the time to update her evidence log, sealed that as well. Then organized her thoughts.
At the knock on her door, she took a deep breath, and rose to open it for the city's two top cops.
Chapter 19
"During the course of investigating the Greene/Wade homicides," Eve began, "I found Greene's financials didn't jibe with his lifestyle. Even assuming a substantial unreported income through his alleged dealings in illegals and sexual services, purchases, and other assets accumulated over the previous year far exceeded any projected monies."
"You assumed he had another source," Whitney put in.
"Yes, sir. During the initial search and sweep of the premises-"
"Lieutenant." Tibble held up a hand to stop her. "Is there a reason you're taking us down the long road here?"
"I think my findings in this matter are going to require a solid foundation."
"Fine. But there's no need for the formalities. Just lay it out."
"Yes, sir. We found a safe when we did the first pass. There wasn't enough in it as review of the security tapes showed us three probable deals going down in his digs during the last week. He didn't go out himself, so he wouldn't have made any deposits. The guy dealt in cash primarily. No way he's going to hand his take over to a teenager he found in a club and trust her to dump it into his safebox or dummy account. Had to be another cache in his place, just like there had to be another source of income. Given the type of clientele he serviced, blackmail seemed the most logical sideline."
"You felt this assumed sideline connected with Purity?" Tibble asked her.
"It's not enough to connect, to investigate the big picture. Each case has to be handled individually, by the numbers, or you miss details."
Tibble nodded. "Since we're here, I assume you didn't miss the details."
"I returned to Greene's condo, with the civilian consultant. We located the second safe. I logged those contents at that time, and have updated the log as I reviewed those contents. It contained eight hundred and sixty-five thousand in cash, a code for a safebox at the Security National Bank, 88th Street branch, five data discs, and twelve video discs."
She gestured to her desk. "All contents are logged and sealed, as is my record of their confiscation from the safe."
"Since you're being very cautious, Lieutenant, those contents must be hot."
She met Whitney's eyes. "They are. The data discs contain his underground books. He kept good records. They also contain his daily journals. His deterioration from the infection is well documented on them, demonstrating increasing pain, paranoia, anger and confusion."
"And the vids," Tibble said. "Blackmail?"
"Yes, sir. I did ID search and matches on the individuals recorded by Greene. There's little doubt they were unaware they were being recorded during their activities as said activities were extremely graphic in nature. Some of the recordings take place at an as yet unknown location, others in the spare bedroom at Greene's condo. On those vids are a number of very prominent citizens recorded in compromising, illegal, and/or embarrassing sexual situations. Among them are a criminal court judge, the wife of a college professor and vocal Conservative Party supporter who I believe I can and will connect to Clarissa Price, a well-known media personality, and the Mayor of New York."
"Oh, Christ." Tibble stared for a full five seconds, then pressed his fingers to his temples. "This is a confirmed ID on Peachtree?"
"Yes, sir. I recognized him, but followed up with an image scan."
"Then it's a fucking mess." He dropped his hands. "All right, the idiot cheated on his wife and got recorded."
"Sir. It's a little more... involved than straightadultery."
"Spell it out, Dallas," Whitney said impatiently. "We're grown-ups here."
"He was dressed in women's clothes and had a sweaty sexual session with another man, which included a little dominance and punishment and, um, oral gratification and consummation."
"It just gets better and better." As if tired, Tibble sat back, rested his head on the cushion of his chair as he studied the ceiling. "Mayor Steven Peachtree is a transvestite who was being blackmailed by a sex and illegals broker who's now dead, and whose death was precipitated by a terrorist organization now responsible for seven murders."
"In a nutshell," Eve agreed.
"The media gets ahold of this..." He shook his head, pushed to his feet. He paced to her window. "It's over for him, one way or the other. Even the talented Chang won't be able to spin him out of the toilet. The city's in enough of an uproar without this. We keep it quiet, for now."
"I need to interview him, Chief, as well as the other individuals on vid."
Tibble looked over his shoulder, studied her face. "You believe Peachtree is involved in Purity? The Mayor, setting a terrorist organization loose on his own city? He may have shown extremely poor judgment in a personal matter, but he's not stupid enough to piss in his own pool."
Why not? she thought. You use a sex broker to fulfill your dream-date fantasy, you're stupid enough for anything. "I can't make that determination until after he's interviewed."
"You want to drag him into a major homicide investigation because he wore a goddamn bra."
She felt her patience drying up, hulling out like a grape in the sun. "Sir, I don't care if he dresses up like a shepherdess and seduces his flock on his downtime. Unless doing so puts him into my case. It's my allegation, as primary in this matter, that Purity has people of power, authority, and influence among their members. My request for a warrant to open sealed juvenile files has been blocked, and continues to be blocked beyond all reasonable objections. Warrants to view files at Child Services have also been blocked or denied.
These blocks impede the forward course of my investigation."
"You found a way around them with Dukes."
She took a deep breath. "Yes, sir, I did. And I'll continue to find ways around them. Seven people, including a police officer, are dead. I'll continue to find a way until I have the answers and justice is served. The Mayor of New York is now a suspect in this investigation whether it suits you or not."
J D Robb - Dallas 15 - Purity in Death Page 29