by J. D. Robb
“Why? She wasn’t killed here. All they were required to do was verify her time of departure.” Eve walked over to the security monitor, ordered a replay for the date and time in question. She watched Pandora storm out of the house, stride quickly out of range. “Two oh eight. Okay, let’s see what shakes. Time of death was about three. Computer, advance to oh three hundred, proceed at triple real time.” She focused on the chronometer. “Freeze image. Sonofabitch. See that, Peabody.”
“I see it, time skipped from four oh three to four thirty-five. Someone disengaged the camera. Had to do it by remote. Had to know what they were doing.”
“Someone wanted to get in bad enough, get something out bad enough, to risk it. For a box of illegals.” Her smile was grim. “I’ve got a feeling dead in the gut, Peabody. Let’s go hassle the lab boys.”
chapter nine
“Why you wanna give me grief, Dallas?”
Huddled in his lab coat, Chief Tech Dickie Berenski—Dickhead to those who knew and loathed him—tested a strand of pubic hair. He was a meticulous man, as well as a monster pain in the ass. Though notoriously slow in testing, his batting average in court was high enough to make him the MVP of the police and security lab.
“Can’t you see I’m buried here? Jesus.” With his fussy spider fingers he adjusted the focus on his micro-goggles. “Got us ten homicides, six rapes, a load of suspicious and unattended deaths, and too many B and Es to think about. I’m not a fucking robot.”
“Closest thing to,” Eve muttered. She didn’t like coming to the lab with its antiseptic air and white walls. It was too much like a hospital, or worse, Testing. Any cop who used maximum force resulting in termination was required to undergo Testing. Her experiences with that particular intrusive routine hadn’t been pleasant. “Look, Dickie, you’ve had plenty of time to analyze the substance.”
“Plenty of time.” He pushed back from the counter, and his eyes behind the goggles were big and bold as an owl’s. “You and every other cop in the city figures your shit’s a priority. Like we should drop every other thing and devote every minute to you. You know what happens when the temperature rises, Dallas? People go bat shit, that’s what happens. All you gotta do is take them down, but me and my team, we gotta shift through every hair and fiber. It takes time.”
His voice shifted into whine and set Eve’s teeth on edge. “I’ve got Homicide breathing down my neck, and Illegals snapping at my heels over some goddamn bag of powder. You got the prelim.”
“I need the final.”
“Well, I haven’t got it.” His flappy lips pouted as he turned back and brought the enhanced view of the hair on screen. “I gotta finish DNA on this.”
Eve knew how to work him. She didn’t like it, but she knew. “I’ve got two box-seat tickets to the Yankee-Red Sox game tomorrow.”
His fingers moved slowly over the controls. “Box seats?”
“Third-base side.”
Dickie tipped down his goggles to scan the room. Other techs were busy at their stations. “Maybe I could get you a little more.” With one shove of his feet, he sent his chair sliding to the right until he faced another screen. Cautious, he engaged the keyboard and brought the file up manually. He tapped slowly, scanning the screen. “Here’s the problem, see? This element here.”
It was nothing but color and foreign symbols to Eve, but she grunted as the data scrolled. The unknown, she imagined, that even Roarke’s unit couldn’t identify. “That red thing?”
“No, no, no, that’s a standard amphetamine. You find it in Zeus, in Buzz, in Smiley. Hell, you can get a mild derivative of that in any over-the-counter pep-up. This one.” He tapped a finger against a green squiggle.
“Okay, what is it?”
“That’s the big question, Dallas. Never seen it before. The computer can’t identify. My best guess is it’s something from off planet.”
“That ups the stakes, doesn’t it? Bringing an unknown from off planet can get you twenty years in maximum lockup. Can you tell what it does?”
“I’m working on it. It appears to have some of the same properties as an antiaging drug, and with some of the same energizers. It beats hell out of free radicals. But there’s some nasty side effects when it’s mixed with the other chemicals found in the powder. You got most of it in the report. Enhanced sexual drive, which is not a bad thing, but that’s followed by violent mood swings. Increased physical strength hooked up to a lack of control. This shit really dances around in the old nervous system. You’re going to feel terrific for a while, practically invulnerable, you’ll want to fuck like a rabbit, but you won’t much care if your chosen mate is interested. When the crash comes, it’s going to be hard and fast and the only thing that’s going to level you out is another dose. Keep taking it, keep flying up and diving down, and the nervous system’s going to go nutso. Then you die.”
“That’s pretty much what you’ve given me already.”
“That’s because I’m stuck on Element X. It’s vegetation, I can tell you that. Similar to the sharpleaf valerian found in the Southwest. Indians used the leaves for healing. But valerian isn’t toxic, and this is.”
“It’s poison?”
“Taken alone and in sufficient dosage, it would be, yeah. So are a lot of herbs and plants used in medicine.”
“It’s a medicinal herb.”
“I didn’t say that. It’s not yet identified.” He puffed out his cheeks. “But it’s likely some off planet hybrid. That’s the best I’ve got right now. And you and Illegals hassling me isn’t going to make me find the answer quicker.”
“This isn’t an Illegals case, it’s mine.”
“Tell them that.”
“I will. Now, Dickie, I need the toxicology on the Pandora homicide.”
“That’s not my baby, Dallas. That was dumped on Suzie-Q, and it’s her twenty-four hours off.”
“You’re chief tech, Dickie, and I need the report.” She waited a beat. “There are two locker room passes that go along with those box seats.”
“Yeah. Well, it never hurts to spot-check your team.” He keyed in his code, then the file. “She secured it, good for her. Chief Tech Berenski, override security on File Pandora, ID 563922-H.”
VOICE PRINT VERIFIED.
“Display toxicology.”
TOXICOLOGY TESTS STILL IN PROGRESS. PRELIMINARY RESULTS ON SCREEN.
“She’d been drinking a lot,” Dickie murmured. “Top French bubbly. Probably died happy. Looks like Dom, ’55. That’s good work for Suzie-Q. Added a little happy powder to it. Our dead girl liked to party. Looks like Zeus . . . No.” His shoulders bowed in as they did when he was intrigued or irritated. “What the hell is this?”
When the computer started to detail elements, he cut it off with an annoyed flick of the finger and began to run the report manually. “Something mixed up here,” he muttered. “Something screwy.”
His fingers played over the controls like those of a well-trained pianist giving his first recital. Slow, cautious, and accurate. Dallas watched symbols and shapes form, disperse, realign. And she, too, saw the pattern.
“It’s the same.” Eyes steely, she looked over at the silent Peabody. “It’s the same stuff.”
“I didn’t say that,” Dickie interrupted. “Shut up and let me finish running this test.”
“It’s the same,” Eve repeated, “right down to that green squiggle of Element X. Question, Peabody, what do a high-powered model and a second-rate weasel have in common?”
“They’re both dead.”
“You’ve answered part one correctly. Care to try for part two and double your winnings? How did they both die?”
The faintest of smiles flitted around Peabody’s mouth. “Beaten to death.”
“Now for the grand prize and part three. What connects these two seemingly unrelated murders?”
Peabody looked down at the screen. “Element X.”
“We’re on a roll, Peabody. Transmit that report to my office, Dickie. M
ine,” she repeated when he glanced up at her. “Illegals calls, you don’t know any more than you knew before.”
“Hey, I can’t bury data.”
“Right.” She turned on her heel. “I’ll have those tickets delivered by five.”
“You knew,” Peabody said as they took the skyglide to the Homicide sector. “Back at the victim’s apartment. You couldn’t find the box, but you knew what was in it.”
“Suspected,” Eve corrected. “A new blend, one she was proprietary about, increased sexual performance and strength.” She checked her watch. “I got lucky. Working on both cases at the same time, having them both on my mind. I worried I was just overlapping, but then I started to wonder. I saw both bodies, Peabody. There was the same overkill, the same viciousness.”
“I don’t think it was luck. I was in on both of them, too, and I was six steps behind the whole way.”
“You catch up fast.” Eve stepped off the glide to take the elevator to her level. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Peabody. I’ve got more than double your time on the job.”
Peabody stepped into the glass tube, gave a disinterested glance at the city below as they climbed. “Why did you bring me in on these?”
“You’ve got potential—brains and guts. That’s what Feeney told me when he brought me in under him. That was Homicide, too. Two teenagers hacked to death and strewed over the skyramp at Second and Twenty-fifth. I stumbled along about six paces behind him, too. But I found my rhythm.”
“How’d you know you wanted Homicide?”
Eve stepped out of the tube, turned down the corridor toward her office. “Because death’s an insult anytime. When somebody hurries it along, that’s the biggest insult of all. Let’s get a couple of coffees, Peabody. I want to put this all in black and white before I take it to the commander.”
“I don’t suppose we could actually eat something.”
Eve tossed a grin over her shoulder. “I don’t know what’s in my AutoChef, but . . .” She trailed off as she walked in and found Casto sitting at her desk, long, denim-clad legs propped up and crossed at the ankles. “Well, Casto, Jake T., you look right at home.”
“Been waiting for you, darlin’.” He winked at her, then flashed a killer smile at Peabody. “Hi, there, DeeDee.”
“DeeDee?” Eve murmured, then walked over to order coffee.
“Lieutenant.” Peabody’s voice was stiff as iron, but her cheeks were glowing pink.
“It’s a lucky man who gets to work with a couple of cops who are not only smart but a joy to look at. Could I get a cup of that, Eve? Strong and black and sweet.”
“You can have the coffee, but I haven’t got time for a consult. I have some paperwork to see to, and an appointment in a couple of hours.”
“I won’t keep you.” But he didn’t shift when she handed him the coffee. “I’ve been trying to light a fire under Dickhead. The man’s slower than a three-legged turtle. You being primary, I figured you could requisition me a sample. I’ve got a private lab we use now and then. They’re quick.”
“I don’t think we want to take this out of the department, Casto.”
“The lab’s approved by Illegals.”
“I meant Homicide. Let’s give Dickie a little more time. Boomer isn’t going anywhere.”
“Hey, you’re in charge. I’d just like to put this one behind me. Leaves a bad taste. Not like this coffee.” He closed his eyes, sighed. “My Jesus, woman, where’d you get this? It’s gold.”
“Connections.”
“Ah, that rich fiancé of yours, sure.” He savored another sip. “A man would be hard pressed to tempt you away with the offer of a cold beer and a taco.”
“Coffee’s my drink, Casto.”
“Can’t blame you.” He shifted his admiring gaze to Peabody. “How about you, DeeDee? Got a taste for a cold one?”
“Officer Peabody’s on duty,” Eve said when Peabody was reduced to stammers. “We’ve got work to do here, Casto.”
“I’ll let you get to it.” He unfolded his legs and stood. “Why don’t you give me a call when you go off duty, DeeDee? I know a place that has the best Mexican food this side of the Rio Grande. Eve, you change your mind on letting me rush that sample through, let me know.”
“Close the door, Peabody,” Eve ordered when Casto sauntered out. “And wipe that drool off your chin.”
Appalled, Peabody lifted a hand. Finding her chin dry didn’t improve her humor. “That’s not funny. Sir.”
“Cut out the ‘sir.’ Anybody who goes around answering to DeeDee loses five points on the dignity scale.” Eve dropped down in the seat recently warmed by Casto. “What the hell did he want?”
“I thought he told us clearly enough.”
“No, that wasn’t enough to bring him over here.” She leaned forward, engaged her machine. A quick test of security showed no breaches. “If he was in here, I can’t tell.”
“Why would he go into your files?”
“He’s ambitious. If he could close the case ahead of me, it would look damn good. And Illegals doesn’t like to share, anyway.”
“And Homicide does?” Peabody said dryly.
“Hell no.” She looked up, grinned. “Let’s get this report hammered out. We’re going to have to request an off world toxicology expert. We better be able to back up the hole we’re going to put in the budget.”
Thirty minutes later, they were summoned to the office of the chief of police and security.
Eve liked Chief Tibble. He was a big man with a bold mind and a heart that was still more cop than politician. After the stench the former chief had left behind, the city and the department had needed the kind of brisk, cold air Tibble brought with him.
But she didn’t know what the hell they’d been called in for. Not until she was ushered in and saw Casto and his captain.
“Lieutenant, Officer,” Tibble gestured to chairs. In a strategic move, Eve chose one beside Commander Whitney.
“We have a little squabble to settle,” Tibble began. “We’re going to settle it quickly and finally. Lieutenant Dallas, you are primary on the Johannsen and the Pandora homicides.”
“Yes, sir, I am. I was called in to confirm identification of Johannsen’s body, as he was one of my informants. In the Pandora case, I was called to the scene by Mavis Freestone, who has been charged in that case. Both files are still open and under investigation.”
“Officer Peabody is your aide.”
“I requested her as my aide and was authorized to attach her to my caseload by my commander.”
“Very well. Lieutenant Casto, Johannsen was also one of your informants.”
“He was. I was on another case when his body was taken in. I wasn’t notified until later.”
“And at that time, the Illegals and Homicide departments agreed to cooperate on the investigation.”
“We did. However, recent information has come to my attention that puts both of these cases under Illegals jurisdiction.”
“They’re homicides,” Eve interrupted.
“With the link of illegal substances connecting both.” Casto’s easy smile flashed. “The latest lab report shows that the substance discovered in Johannsen’s room was also found in Pandora’s system. This substance contains an unknown, and is not yet rated, which under Article Six, Section Nine, Code B, puts all related cases under the investigative head of Illegals.”
“Exception to which is granted with such cases that are already under investigation by another department.” Eve forced herself to take a deep breath. “My report on these matters will be complete within the hour.”
“Exceptions are not automatic, Lieutenant.” The Illegals captain tapped his fingertips together. “The simple fact is, Homicide doesn’t have the manpower, experience, or the facilities to investigate an unknown. Illegals does. And we don’t feel it was in the spirit of cooperation to hold data back from our department.”
“Your department and Lieutenant Casto will be copied when
my report is complete. These are my cases—”
Whitney lifted a hand before she could spit. “Lieutenant Dallas is primary. If these cases are linked with illegals, they are still homicides, which she has been investigating.”
“With respect, Commander,” Casto dimmed his smile, “it’s well known at Cop Central that you favor the lieutenant, and rightfully so, given her record. We requested this meeting with Chief Tibble so as to insure a fair judgment on departmental priority. I have more street contacts, and a relationship with merchants and distributors of chemicals. While working undercover, I’ve gained access to mills, factories, and chemhouses which the lieutenant simply doesn’t have. Added to that is the fact that there is a suspect charged with the Pandora homicide.”
“A suspect who had absolutely no connection with Johannsen,” Eve broke in. “They were killed by the same person, Chief Tibble.”
His eyes remained cool. Any approval or lack thereof was carefully masked. “Is that your opinion, Lieutenant?”
“That’s my professional judgment, sir, which I will show cause for in my report.”
“Chief, it’s no secret that Lieutenant Dallas has a personal interest in the suspect charged.” The captain spoke tersely. “It would be natural for her to want to cast a cloud over the case. How can her professional judgment remain clear when the suspect is a close friend?”
Tibble held up a finger to halt Eve’s outburst. “Commander Whitney, your opinion?”
“I will and have relied without qualification on Lieutenant Dallas’s judgment. She’ll do her job.”
“I agree. Captain, I don’t much care for disloyalty in the ranks.” The reprimand was mild, but the aim deadly. “Now, both departments have a valid point here on priority. Exceptions are not automatic, and we are dealing with an unknown which appears to be involved in at least two deaths. Both Lieutenant Dallas and Lieutenant Casto have exemplary records, and each, I believe, are more than competent to investigate these matters. Do you agree, Commander?”