Creation in Death

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Creation in Death Page 31

by J. D. Robb


  “But of course, it is, just that. It’s the answer for all of us in the end.” He stepped closer. “It’s what we all ask for when our time comes. She did. You will.”

  “I don’t want to die.”

  “You will,” he said again. “Just as she did. But don’t worry, I’ll give you that answer, and that gift, just as I did for her.”

  Other chatter came and went as teams reported in from their destinations. Roarke drank coffee and painstakingly scraped layers off old records, pried out ragged bits of data, and tried to sew them together into answers.

  The second building had a basement. Though Eve knew the chances were small, she did a walk-through.

  Not his kind of place, she decided. Too modern, too ugly, too crowded, and with too much security. A guy couldn’t comfortably drag a terrified or unconscious woman inside without annoying the neighbors.

  Still she questioned a few, showed Lowell’s picture.

  What if she was off, she wondered, about him working out of the city? Maybe he’d bought a damn house in the suburbs, and used Manhattan for hunting and dumping. How much time would she have wasted looking for the right building among thousands if he was killing women in some ranch in White Plains or Newark?

  She got back in the car. She’d go back to the bakery, back to Greenfeld’s apartment. Maybe she’d missed something. Maybe they all had. She’d do another sweep of each victim’s home and place of employment.

  Swinging out into traffic, she relayed her intentions back to base. “It’ll keep me out on the street a couple more hours, keep me in the open. And it’ll look like what it is. Like I’m chasing my goddamn tail.”

  “I’ve got another possibility,” Roarke told her. “It was a sewing machine factory, regentrified into lofts in NoHo late in the twentieth. I’ve got a bit about it being used for barracks during the Urbans, taking some considerable hits. It was repaired and sold for lofts again in the early thirties.”

  “Okay, I’ll check that one. Give me the location.” She pursed her lips when he gave her the address. She’d gone from west to east, and now would cross west again, head north. “Peabody, you copy that?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Heading west.”

  She made her turn, then answered the signal of her in-dash ’link. “Dallas.”

  “Lieutenant Dallas? I’m calling for Mr. Klok. You requested that he contact you when he returned home. He arrived today, and would be happy to speak with you if you still wish it.”

  “Yeah, I still wish it.”

  “Mr. Klok is able to meet with you at your convenience. However, it would be helpful if you could come to his residence as he’s injured himself in a fall. His doctors prefer he remain at home for the next forty-eight hours.”

  “Yeah? What happened?”

  “Mr. Klok slipped on some ice on the sidewalk upon his return. He suffered a mild concussion and a wrenched knee. If it’s not convenient for you, Mr. Klok wishes for me to relate to you that he will come to your office as soon as his doctors allow.”

  “I can come to him. Actually, I’m in the area now. I can be there in a few minutes.”

  “Very well. I’ll inform Mr. Klok.”

  Eve ended the transmission, and said, “Hmmm.”

  “Got a smell to it,” Feeney commented in her ear.

  “Yeah, awfully well timed and convenient. It’s also pretty stupid for our guy to invite me into his home to make his move. No tail on me. As far as he knows I’ve got my partner here.”

  She tapped her fingers on the wheel as she thought it through. “Klok ran clean—and no, I’m not discounting that could be another fabrication. Either way, I want to talk to him. And if this actually turns out to be his move on me, he’s giving me free entry.”

  “Into a trap,” Roarke pointed out.

  “It’s only a trap if I let him spring it. I’ve got three men at my back, I’ve got eyes and ears. I’m going in, and you can dig deeper on his house while I’m in transit. If I see or feel anything off, you’ll know it. Peabody move in, secure the van three blocks from destination.”

  “Copy,” Peabody acknowledged. “We’re about ten blocks back now, got a little snag in traffic. We’ll route around it and move in.”

  “Go ahead and do another run on Klok. Let’s see if he arrived in New York today as advertised. Search public and private shuttles and transports. If you get those results while I’m in, relay. Otherwise, cut all chatter now. I’m only a couple blocks away.”

  Jumpy, Eve thought, rolling her shoulders. Damn chemicals from the energy pills were bouncing around inside her like little springy balls.

  “Transmission’s going a little fuzzy on the homer,” Feeney commented, then glanced over at Roarke. “You getting that?”

  “I am. A little interference. Could be some stray transmission that bled onto the frequency. Can you clean it up?”

  “Working on that. Peabody, you still have her?”

  “Yeah. McNab says the beacon’s jumping a little.”

  “It’s interference,” Roarke repeated as the signal went in and out. “It’s another transmission, crossing ours. Bloody hell.” He shoved back from his station. “It’s another homer. Another homer on her vehicle. It’s crossed ours now because she’s near or at the base point. He’s tracked her, that’s how he knew to call her in. He knew she was close.”

  “Dallas, Dallas, you copy?” Feeney shouted into the receiver. “Dallas, goddamn it. Peabody, move in, move the fuck in.” He leaped up, rushed after Roarke as Roarke ran out of the room. “She knows what she’s doing,” Feeney said as they shoved onto an elevator.

  “So does he.”

  Eve parked, then moved across the sidewalk. The courtyard gate opened for her. Awfully damn accommodating, she mused, and shifted her shoulders just to feel the weight of her weapon.

  “At the door,” she murmured into her receiver and pressed the bell.

  The droid opened it. “Lieutenant, thank you for coming. Mr. Klok is in the parlor. May I take your coat?”

  “No. Lead the way.”

  She’d keep the droid where she could see him, just in case.

  The curtains were drawn, the lights low. She could see the figure of a man in a chair near a quiet fire, his foot wrapped with a soft cast and resting on a padded stool.

  He had a short brown beard, short brown hair, some bruising around his left eye. “Corpulent” would have been the polite word for him, Eve supposed. Hers would have been “really fat.”

  “Lieutenant Dallas?” He had the slightest Germanic accent. “Please pardon me for not getting up. I was clumsy, banged myself up a bit this morning. Please sit down. Can I offer you something? Tea? Coffee?”

  “No.”

  He offered his hand as he spoke. She moved in to take it. The common gesture would bring her closer, close enough, she judged for her to determine if he was Robert Lowell.

  And as she angled herself to look into his eyes, she knew. She shifted, pulling her right hand back to reach for her weapon. “Hello, Bob.”

  He only smiled. “No one has ever called me Bob. You saw right through me.”

  “Get up. You.” She gestured toward the hovering droid. “If you don’t want your circuits fried, stay exactly where you are.”

  “I’m a little hampered,” Lowell said pleasantly. “All this padding, and the cast.”

  Eve kicked the footstool away, so his foot thudded on the floor. “On the floor, on your face, hands behind your back. Now.”

  “I’ll do my best.” He slid and humped his way off the chair, huffing as he struggled to roll onto his belly.

  When she reached down to grab his wrist, to pull his arm behind his back, he turned his hand, closed it over hers.

  She felt the prick, cursed. “Son of a bitch tranq’d me.” She aimed her weapon mid-body, fired a stream. Then her legs buckled and sent her to her knees.

  “An old method,” Lowell said as he effortfully rolled over. “Often used in assassination
s at one time. Just a tranquilizer now, as you said.” He smiled as she slid the rest of the way to the floor. “Very quick acting, of course.”

  He sat where he was until he’d unbuttoned the padded suit, pulled it aside. Underneath he wore standard body armor. “I thought, as you’re very skilled, you might fire your weapon. It’s always wise to take precautions. Carry her down to my workroom,” he ordered the droid.

  His duplicate droid was already taking her car away, very far away.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Plenty of time, Lowell thought. When he was certain all was well, he’d call the droid home, replace his hard drive as he would replace this house droid’s memory. As he’d done many times before.

  Clean slate.

  For now, he gathered the suit, the cast, picked up the weapon Eve had dropped. It was possible she’d called in her intention to stop there. Someone would come, be that the case. But there would be no sign she’d been there.

  Her vehicle would be found miles away.

  He would have all her communication devices, and all would be shut down.

  He would have her, Lowell thought as he started down the steps to his work area. And complete his life’s work.

  Outside the house, Peabody stood sick with frustration and dread. She’d called for a battering ram for the door they couldn’t budge, and for laser torches to cut through the riot bars on every window.

  Eve was inside, and she couldn’t find a way in.

  “You’ve got to override the security.”

  “I’m working on it,” McNab said between his teeth as he pulled out every trick he knew. “It’s got backups on its backups. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  They both whirled as a car squealed to a halt in the street. Some of her dread lessened when she saw Roarke and Feeney jump out.

  “We can’t get past the system. The place is locked down like a fort.”

  “Move aside.” Roarke shoved McNab away, pulled out his own tools.

  “Tried the master, tried the override, got my comp to spit out codes. But when you input, they shift to another sequence.”

  “It was a Stealth base during the Urbans,” Feeney told Peabody as sweat rolled down his back. “The minute she walked in, all comms were useless. We got the data on the way over. First Robert Lowell had it titled in his wife’s maiden name, ran a branch of the business out of here. More a front during the Urbans.

  “Get that damn system down,” he ordered Roarke.

  “Quiet and let me work.”

  “You don’t get that down, get us inside before he puts hands on her, I’ll be kicking your ass for the rest of my natural life.”

  Ariel’s eyes tracked to him as he came in behind the droid. “Who is she? Who is she?”

  “You could say the last of her breed.” He leaned over the table where the droid laid Eve, went through her pockets for her ’link, her communicator, her PPC. He removed her wrist unit. “Take these and put them into the recycler. Go upstairs, shut down,” he told the droid.

  “Well, now.” Gently Lowell brushed a hand through Eve’s hair. “You’ll need to be washed and prepared. Best to do that while you’re sleeping. We’re going to spend some time together, you and I. I’ve been looking forward to it.”

  “Are you going to kill me now?” Ariel asked.

  “No, no, indeed, your time’s still running. But I am going to do something very special.” He turned to Ariel as if pleased to be able to discuss it. “I’ve never taken the opportunity to work with two partners at the same time. And you’re proving to be so much more than I anticipated. I really believe you’re going to exceed most, if not all who came before you. But she?” He glanced back at Eve. “I’ve set the bar very high for her. The last Eve.”

  “She…she looks familiar.”

  “Hmm?” Absently, he looked at Ariel again. “Yes, I suppose you might have seen her on some of the media reports. Now—”

  “Mr. Gaines!”

  He stopped his pivot back to Eve, frowned down at Ariel. “Yes, yes? What’s so urgent? I have work.”

  “What…what is the most time? I mean, how long is the longest anyone—any of the women you’ve brought here—has lasted?”

  His eyes brightened. “You’re such a delightful surprise to me! Are you challenged? Have I tapped your competitive streak?”

  “I can’t…if I don’t know how long, I can’t try to last longer. Will you tell me how long?”

  “I can.” With her clutch piece in her hand, Eve sat up on the steel table. “Eighty-five hours, twelve minutes, thirty-eight seconds.”

  “No.” He looked baffled first, then red-faced and furious. “No, no. This is not allowed.”

  “You don’t like that, you’re going to hate this.”

  Eve shot out a stun, on a setting a little higher than was considered proper procedure, and dropped him like a stone. “Fuckhead,” she muttered, and prayed she wasn’t going to pass out or vomit.

  “I knew you’d come.” Tears swam in Ariel’s eyes. “I knew someone would come, and when I saw them bring you in, I knew it was going to be okay.”

  “Yeah, hold on.” She had to slide to her feet, give herself a moment to balance. “You did good. You did real good keeping his attention on you so I could get to my piece.”

  “I wanted to kill him. I imagined killing him. It helped.”

  “I bet it did. Listen, I’m a little off center. I don’t think I’d better try cutting those ropes just yet. You’ve got to hang in there a little bit longer. I know you hurt, but you’ve got to hang in.”

  “I’m so cold.”

  “Okay.” Eve managed to pull off her coat, then draped it over Ariel’s bleeding and battered body. “I’m going to secure him, okay? I’m going to secure him, then go call for backup.”

  “Would you bring me back some water?”

  Eve laid a hand on Ariel’s cheek. “Sure.”

  “And maybe a whole bunch of drugs.” While the tears spilled out, Ariel struggled to smile. “This is a really nice coat.”

  “Yeah. I like it.”

  22

  TWO ENERGY BOOSTS WITH A TRANQ CHASER, Eve thought. The combination had her feeling stupid, shaky, and not a little sick. But she not only had to stay on her feet, she had to do the job.

  Reaching around, she fumbled at her back for her restraints. Either they weren’t there, or she’d lost all sensation in her left hand. “Crap. I’ve got to restrain this son of a bitch, but my cuffs…I must’ve dropped them upstairs when he tranq’d me. Let me just…okay.”

  She turned, saw the ropes looped through the side holes in the table. “Here we go. Okay.”

  “You don’t look so good,” Ariel commented. “I probably look a whole lot worse, but you don’t look so good.”

  “Been putting in a lot of hours looking for you, Ariel.” Eve fought the knots on the rope, cursing under her breath as her fingers felt as agile as limp soy dogs.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. Bloody buggering hell! Was this son of a bitch a Youth Guide or something?”

  “I always thought they were little psychos.”

  Unsteady fingers slick with sweat, Eve tugged and dragged. “Almost got this bitch. Just hold on.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Eve muscled one rope free, then bent over from the waist, blowing out breath as her stomach tried to heave. “Little sick to my stomach. Don’t be alarmed if I boot.”

  Ariel managed a smile through gritted teeth. “If you do, boot on him. Bastard.”

  On an appreciative and slightly drunk laugh, Eve crouched down to tie Lowell’s hands. “You’re a stand-up, Ariel. A goddamn Amazon. I can see why Erik’s in love with you.”

  “What? Erik? Erik loves me?”

  Eve swiped at her sweaty brow, glanced up and over at Ariel’s pale face. “That was probably something I was supposed to keep to myself. Crossed the line. Blame the tranq. But listen,” she continued as she tied the rope around Lowell’s
wrists just a little tighter than strictly necessary. “If you don’t go for him, you know? If you don’t, take it easy on him, okay? ’Cause he’s really gone over you.”

  Eve stood, ignoring the way her head swam, to release the second rope for Lowell’s feet. And saw tears sliding down Ariel’s cheeks. “Oh, man, I know you’re hurt. I know this sucks out loud, but just hang on a few minutes more.”

  “I’ve loved that dumbass almost since he moved in across the hall. Dumbass never made one move.”

  “Oh.” God, people were strange, Eve thought. The woman had stood up under unspeakable pain, but she was leaking because some guy was soft on her. “He probably will now. Jesus, music off!” she ordered as she bound Lowell’s feet. But the voices continued to soar. “You know how he shut that shit off?”

  “Not really. I’ve been kind of tied up since I got here.”

  Eve plopped down on her ass and laughed like a loon. “You ever think of giving up baking and going into police work, Ariel—I swear you’ve got the spine and the nasty streak for it.”

  “I like baking. I’m going to bake you the most incredible cake. It’s going to be a goddamn work of art. Oh, God, God, do you think someone’s coming with drugs soon?”

  “It won’t be long. I’m going to see if I can get the doors open, or break the glass.”

  “But…don’t leave me.”

  “Listen.” Eve gained her feet, stepped over so she and Ariel were face-to-face. “I’m not going anywhere without you. On my word.”

  “What’s your name? I’m sorry, did you tell me your name already?”

  “It’s Dallas. Eve Dallas.”

  “If I give Erik a break and we get married, I’m naming the first kid after you.”

  “There’s a lot of that going around.”

  “Get us the hell out of here, Dallas.”

  Eve moved to the door, yanked, shoved, pulled, kicked, rammed. Cursed. Turning again, she pulled the coat over Ariel’s face. “Just for a minute, in case the glass flies around.” And taking out her weapon again, she upped the stream and blasted at the door.

 

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