BORN IN DEATH

BYJ. D. ROBB

1

THE WAYS AND MEANS OF FRIENDSHIP WEREmurderous. In order to navigate its twisty maze, a friend could be called upon to perform inconvenient, irritating, or downright horrifying acts at any given time. The worst, the very worst requirement of friendship, in Eve Dallass opinion, was sitting through an entire evening of childbirth classes. What went on therethe sights, the sounds, the assault on all the sensesturned the blood cold. She was a cop, a Homicide lieutenant with eleven years on the job protecting and defending the hard, merciless streets of New York. There was little she hadnt seen, touched, smelled, or waded through. Because people, to her mind, would always and could always find more inventive and despicable ways to kill their fellow man, she knew just what torments could be inflicted on the human body. But bloody and brutal murder wasnothingcompared to giving birth. How all those women with their bodies enormous and weirdly deformed by the entity gestating inside them could be so cheerful, sofreakingplacidabout what was happeningand going to happento them was beyond her scope. But there was Mavis Freestone, her oldest friend, with her little pixie body engulfed by the bulge of belly, beaming like a mentally defective while images of live birth played out on the wall screen. And she wasnt alone. The other women had more or less the same God-struck look on their faces. Maybe pregnancy stopped certain signals from getting to the brain. Personally, Eve felt a little bit sick. And when she glanced over at Roarke, the wince on his angel-kissed faced told her he was right there with her. That, at least, was a big red check in the Pro-Marriage column. You got to drag your spouse into your personal nightmares and into that twisty friendship maze right along with you. Eve let the images blur. Shed rather study a crime scene recordingmass murder, mutilation, severed limbsthan look up some laboring womans crotch and watch a head pop out. Roarke had horror vids in his collection that were less gruesome. She could hear Mavis whispering to Leonardo, the entitys expectant father, but blocked out the words. When, dear God, when would it be over? Some setup here, all right, she thought, trying to distract herself by evaluating the birthing center. The whole damn building was a kind of cathedral to conception, gestation, birth, and babies. Shed managed to duck Maviss attempt to give her a tour of the entire place by pleading work. Sometimes a well-placed lie saved friendships, and sanity. The educational wing was enough. Shed sat through a lecture, several demonstrations that would haunt her dreams for decades, been forced as part of Maviss coaching team to assist in a mock birth with the labor droid and squealing droid infant. And now there was this hideous vid. Dont think about it, she warned herself, and went back to studying the room. Pastel walls covered with pictures of babies or pregnant women in various stages of bliss. All filmy and rapturous. Lots of fresh flowers and thriving green plants arranged artistically. Comfy chairs, supposedly designed to aid the women in hauling their loaded bodies up. And three perky instructors who were available for questions, lectures, demos, and serving healthy refreshments. Pregnant women, Eve noted, were constantly eating or peeing. Double doors at the back, one exit in the front, left of the vid screen. Too bad she couldnt make a run for it. Eve let herself go into a kind of trance. She was a tall, lanky woman with a choppy cap of brown hair. Her face was angular, and paler than usual, with whiskey-brown eyes currently glazed. The jacket she wore over her weapon harness was deep green and, because her husband had bought it, cashmere. She was thinking about going home and washing the memory of the last three hours away in a full liter of wine when Mavis grabbed her hand.

Dallas, look! The babys coming!

Huh? What? Those glazed eyes popped wide. What?Now? Well, Jesus. Breathe, right?

Laughter erupted around them as Eve lurched to her feet.

Not this baby. Giggling, Mavis stroked her basketball belly. Thatbaby.

Instinct had Eve glancing in the direction Mavis pointed, and getting a wide-screen blast of the bellowing, wriggling, gunk-covered creature sliding out from between some poor womans legs.

Oh, man. Oh, God. She sat down, before her own legs went out from under her. No longer caring if it made her a sissy, she groped for Roarkes hand. When he gripped it, she found it as clammy as her own. People applauded, actually clapped andcheeredwhen the wailing, slippery-looking form was laid on its mothers deflated belly, and between her engorged breasts.

In the name of all thats holy& Eve muttered to Roarke. Its 2060, not 1760. Cant they find a better way to handle this process?

Amen was all Roarke said. Weakly.

Isnt it beautiful? Its the ult, the extreme ult. Maviss lashescurrently dyed sapphire blue, sparkled with tears. Its a little boy. Awww, look how sweet&.

Dimly she heard the lead instructor announce the end of the nights coaching classthank Godand invite people to stay for refreshments or questions.

Air, Roarke murmured into her ear. Im in desperate need of air.

Its the pregnant women. I think they suck up all the oxygen. Think of something. Get us out of here. I cant think. My brain wont work right.

Stand with me. He hooked a hand under her arm, pulled her up.

Mavis, Eve and I want to take you and Leonardo out for a bite. We can do better than the offerings here.

Eve could hear the strain in his voice, but imagined anyone who didnt know him as well as she would only hear that easy, fluid stream of Irish. There was a lot of chatter going on and women were making a bee-line for the food or the bathrooms. Rather than thinking about what was being said or done, Eve focused on Roarkes face. If it couldnt distract a woman, she was too far gone to worry about it. He might have been a little pale, but the white skin only intensified the wild blue of his eyes. His hair was a black silk frame around a face designed to raise a womans heart rate. And that mouth of his. Even in her current state it was tempting to just lean in a little and take a good bite of it. And the body only added to the fantasy: tall, leanly muscled, and slickly presented in one of his perfectly tailored business suits. Roarke wasnt just one of the richest men in the known universe, he also looked the part. And at the moment, because he was taking her arm and leading her out of that nightmare, he was her ultimate hero. She grabbed her coat on the fly.

Were sprung?

They wanted to see if a friend of theirs could join us. He still had Eves hand, and was rapidly walking toward the exit. I told them wed get the car, bring it around to the front. Save them steps.

Youre brilliant. Freaking white knight. If I ever recover from this trauma, Ill screw your brains out.

I hope, eventually, my brain cells regenerate enough to make that possible. My God, Eve. My God.

Total tandem here. Did you see how it sort of slithered out when

Dont. He pulled her into the elevator, called for their level of the parking garage. If you love me, dont take me back there. He leaned back against the wall. Ive always respected women. You know that.

She rubbed at an itch on the side of her nose. Youve nailed plenty of them. But yeah, she added when he just gave her a bland stare. Youve got respect.

That respect has now risen to admiration of biblical proportions. How do theydothat?

Weve just seen how. In graphic detail. Did you see Mavis? Eve shook her head as they walked out of the elevator. Her eyes were all glittery. And it wasnt fear. She cant wait to do all that.

Leonardo looked a bit green, actually.

Yeah, well, hes got that thing about blood. And there was bloodand otherstuff.

Thats enough. Therell be no talk of other stuff.

Because the late January weather was lousy, hed driven one of his all-terrains. It was big and black and muscular. When he uncoded the locks, Eve leaned back against the passenger door before he could open it.

Look here, ace. We gotta face this, you and me.

I dont want to.

Now she laughed. Shed seen him face death with more aplomb. What we did in there, that was just a preview. Were going to be in the room with her when she pushes that thing out. We have to be there, counting to ten, telling her to breathe, or to go to her happy place. Whatever.

We could be out of town, or the country. No, we could be called off planet. That would really be best. Well be called off planet to save the world from some criminal mastermind.

Oh, if only. But you know and I know were going to be there. Pretty soon, probably, because that bomb inside hers just ticking away.

He sighed, then leaned down to rest his brow to hers. God pity us, Eve. God pity us.

If God had any pity on us, Hed populate the world without the middle man. Middle woman. Lets go drink. A lot.

The restaurant was casual, a little noisy, and exactly what the midwife ordered. Mavis sipped some sort of exotic fruit punch that was nearly as sparkly as she was. Her riotous silver curls were tipped in the same sapphire as her lashes. Her eyes were a vivid, unearthly green tonight to matchEve supposedthe tone of the sweater that fit over her breasts and belly like neon elastic. Numerous loops and squiggles hung from her ears and shot sparks of light as she moved her head. Her sapphire blue pants fit like a second skin. The love of Maviss life sat beside her. Leonardo was built like a redwood, and as he was a fashion designer neither he nor Mavis were ever at a loss for an eye-popping ensemble. Hed gone with a sweater as well, a crazed and intricate geometric pattern of colors against gold. SomehowEve could have saidit suited his strong form and burnished copper complexion. The friend theyd brought along was every bit as knocked-up as Mavis. Maybe even more so, if such things were possible. But in contrast to Maviss out-of-orbit style, Tandy Willowby wore a simple black V neck over a white tee. She was a tea-and-roses blonde, with pale blue eyes and a blunt-tipped nose. During the drive over, Mavis had chattered out introductions, explaining that Tandy was from London, and had only been in New York a few months.

Im so glad I saw you tonight. Tandy wasnt there for class, Mavis continued as she mowed through the appetizers Roarke had ordered. She dropped by toward the end to give the midwife the vouchers for the White Stork. Its this completely mag baby boutique where Tandy works.

Its a lovely shop, Tandy agreed. But I didnt expect to drop by, then get fed and watered. She offered Roarke a shy smile. Its awfully kind of you. Both of you, she added to Eve. Mavis and Leonardo have told me so much about you. You must be so excited.

About what? Eve wondered.

Being part of Maviss coaching team.

Oh. Oh, yeah. Were&

Speechless, Roarke concluded. What part of London are you from?

Actually, Im from Devon originally. I moved to London as a teenager, with my father. Now here I am in New York. I must have a bit of the wanderlust. Though I expect Ill be grounded for a while now. Dreamily, she stroked a hand over her belly. And youre a policewoman. That must be brilliant. Mavis, I dont think you ever told me how you and Dallas met.

She arrested me, Mavis said between bites.

Youre having me on. No?

I used to work the grift. I was good at it.

Not good enough, Eve commented.

I want to hear all about it! But now, I have to make my way to the loo. Again.

Ill go with you. Like Tandy, Mavis levered herself up. Dallas? Coming with?

Ill pass.

I remembervaguelywhat its like not to have something planted on my bladder. Tandy sent the table a smile, then waddled off with Mavis.

So& Eve turned to Leonardo. You met Tandy in the class?

Orientation, he confirmed. Tandys due about a week before Mavis. Its nice of you to let her come along. Shes going through all this without a partner.

What happened to the father? Roarke asked him, and Leonardo shrugged.

She doesnt talk about it much. Just says that he wasnt involved, or interested. If thats the way it is, he doesnt deserve her or the baby. Leonardos wide face went tight and hard. Mavis and I have so much, we want to help her as much as we can.

Eves cynic antennae hummed. Financially?

No. I dont think shed take money, even if she needed it. She seems okay there. I meant support, friendship. He seemed to pale a little. Im going to be part of her coaching team. Itll, ah, itll be like a dress rehearsal for Mavis.

Scared shitless, arent you?

He glanced in the direction of the restrooms, then back at Eve. Im terrified. I could pass out. What if I pass out?

Make sure you dont land on me, Roarke told him.

Mavis isnt nervous. Not even a little bit. And the closer we get, the more my insides& He lifted his big hands, shook them. I dont know what Id do if the two of you werent going to be there. Backing me up.

Oh, hell, Eve thought, and exchanged a glance with Roarke. Where else would we be? She signaled the waiter for another glass of wine.

Two hours later, after dropping Leonardo and Mavis home, Roarke drove south and east toward Tandys apartment building.

Really, I can take the tube. Subway. Its too much trouble, and only a few blocks.

If its only a few blocks, Roarke said, its hardly any trouble.

How can I argue? Tandy let out a laugh. And its so nice to sit in a warm car. Its so bloody cold out there tonight. She settled back with a sigh. I feel pampered, and fat as a whale. Mavis and Leonardo, theyre the best. You cant be around either of them for five minutes and not feel happy. And I see theyre lucky in their friends. Oops.

Eves head spun around so fast it might have flown off her shoulders. No oops. No oopsing.

Hes just bumping around in there a bit. Not to worry. Oh, you know, Mavis is just giddy about the baby shower youre hosting for her next week. She bubbles over it.

Baby shower. Right. Next week.

Here we are. Just down the middle of this block. Thank you both so much. Tandy adjusted her scarf, hauled up a purse the size of a suitcase. For the lovely food and company, and the luxurious ride. Ill see you both on Saturday, at the baby shower.

Need any help, ah&

No, no. Tandy waved Eve off. Even a whale must fend for itself. And even if I cant see my feet these days, I remember where they are. Good night now, and thanks again.

Roarke waited, engine idling, until Tandy had keyed herself into the building. Seems a nice woman. Stable and sensible.

Not like Mavis. Except for the whale factor. Gotta be tough, being knocked up, on your own, and not even in your own country. She seems to be dealing. You know, Roarke, how come just because yourepals you have to go to coaching classes, witness births,andgive baby showers?

I dont have the answer to that question.

She heaved out a breath. Neither do I.

Eve was dreaming of fang-toothed, many-armed babies bouncing out of Mavis to tear around the room, sending the midwife into screaming retreat while Mavis cooed:Arent they mag? Arent they the ult? The signal of the bedside link had her popping out of the dream. She shuddered once.

Block video, she ordered. Lights on ten percent. Dallas.

Dispatch, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. See the officers at 51 Jane Street, apartment 3B. Possible homicide.

Acknowledged. Contact Peabody, Detective Delia. Im on my way.

Acknowledged. Dispatch out.

Eve glanced over, saw Roarkes laser blue eyes were open and on hers. Sorry, she said.

Im not the one being pulled out of a warm bed at four in the morning.

Youre right about that. People ought to have the courtesy to off each other at reasonable hours.

She rolled out of bed and into the bathroom for a lightning-quick shower. When she rolled back out, naked and warm from the drying tube, he was sipping a cup of coffee.

Why are you up?

Im awake, he said simply. And look what Idve missed if Id turned over and gone back to sleep. He handed her the second cup of coffee hed programmed.

Thanks. She took it with her to the closet where she pulled out clothes. Had to be freaking freezing out there, she mused. And detoured to her dresser to yank out a V neck to go over the shirt, under the jacket. Twice theyd put off tentative plans to take a couple of days in the tropics. Mavis, plus baby, equalled a pregnant woman wigging out at the thought of part of her coaching team dancing off to sand and surf this close to delivery time. What could you do?

Babies dont come out with teeth, do they?

No. I dont see how& Roarke lowered his cup, gave her a baffled look. Why do you put thoughts like that in my head?

Theyre in mine, pal, theyre in yours.

See if I make you coffee again.

She dressed quickly. Maybe this murder is the work of a criminal mastermind that will take me off planet. Youre nice to me, I could take you along.

Dont toy with me.

She laughed, strapped on her weapon. See you when I see you. She crossed to him, and becausehell, he was so damn pretty even at four in the morninggave him a peck on both cheeks, then a long warm one mouth-to-mouth.

Stay safe, Lieutenant.

Plan on it.

She jogged down the stairs, where her coat was draped over the newel post. She tossed it there habitually because it was handyand because she knew it irritated Summerset, Roarkes majordomo and the blight of her world. She swung it on, discovered a miracle had happened and her gloves were actually in the pocket. Because it was there, she tossed on the cashmere scarf. And still the cold was a shock to the system when she stepped outside. Hard to complain though, she decided, when you got yourself married to a man who thought to remote your vehicle to the front of the house with the heater already running. She strode through the cold, climbed into warm. She glanced in the rearview as she drove toward the gates. The house that Roarke built filled the mirror, stone and glass, juts and turretsand the light glowing in their bedroom window. Hed have a second cup of coffee, she thought, while reviewing stock reports, early media bulletins, business news, on the bedroom screen. Probably make some overseas or off-planet transmissions. Starting the day before dawn wasnt a biggie to Roarke, she knew. Lucky her again, to have ended up with a man who fell so easily into the crazed cop rhythm she often ran by. She drove through the gates that closed quietly behind her. This sector of prime and pricey real estate was quietthe rich, privileged, or fortunate snuggled under the covers in their atmosphere-regulated homes, condos, apartments. But within a few blocks, the city burst into jittery, jumping life. Heat gushed up in steam from the grates as the underground world of the city moved and shook under the streets and sidewalks. Overhead ad blimps were already touting their bargain of the day. Who the hell cared about Valentines Day sales at the Sky Mall at this hour? Eve wondered. What sane person would push themselves into the insanity of a mall crowd to save a few bucks on a candy heart? She passed an animated billboard running a loop of impossibly perfect people frolicking over white-sugar sand into blue surf. That, at least, was more like it. The yellow streaks of Rapid Cabs were already darting. Runs to transpo centers, mostly, she mused. Early flights to somewhere. A couple of maxibuses belched along, likely carrying the poor suckers on early shifts, or the luckier ones heading home to bed after a graveyard tour. She detoured around the endless party on Broadway. Day or night, blistering or freezing, tourists and the street thieves who loved them thronged to that mecca of noise, light, movement. A few of the after-hours joints were still open down Ninth. She spotted a huddle of street toughs in their over-filled rip jackets and jump boots loiteringand most likely ingesting illegal substances. But if they were looking for trouble, theyd have a hard time finding it before fiveA.M. with the temps hovering around twelve degrees. She skirted through a working-class section of Chelsea, then into the more arty flavor of the Village. The black-and-white was nosed to the curb in front of a rehabbed townhouse on Jane. She took a loading zone a half block down, flipped her On Duty light, then stepped back out into the cold. By the time she retrieved her field kit and set her locks, she spotted Peabody hoofing it from the corner. Her partner looked like an Arctic explorer wrapped in a thick, puffy coat the color of rusted metal with a mile of red scarf wrapped around her neck and a matching cap tugged down over her dark hair. Her breath puffed out like engine steam.

Why cant people kill each other after the sun comes up? Peabody gasped out.

You look like an ad blimp in that coat.

Yeah, I know, but its wicked warm and it makes me feel thin when I take it off.

Together they walked to the townhouse, and Eve turned her recorder on. No security cams, Eve observed. No palm plate. Door locks been tampered with.

There were riot bars on the lower windows, she noted. And the paint on the door and window trim was graying, peeling. Whoever owned the building wasnt big on maintenance and security. The uniform on the door gave them a nod as she opened it. Lieutenant, Detective. Bitching cold, she said. Nine-one-one came in atoh three forty-two. Vics sister made it. My partners got her upstairs. We responded, arrived bout three forty-six. Observed the entrance door to the buildingd been compromised. Vics on the third floor, bedroom. Hallway door locks compromised, too. Put up a fight from the looks of it. Hands and feet bound with your old reliable duct tape. Worked her over some before doing her. Looks like she was strangled with the tie of her robe, since shes still wearing it around her neck.

Where was the sister while this was going on? Eve asked.

Said she just got in. Travels for work. Uses her sisters place as a flop when she comes into New York. Names Palma Copperfield. Shuttle attendant for World Wide Air. She mucked up the scene somesicked up on the floor in there, touched the body before she ran outside again to place the nine-one-one.

The officer glanced toward the elevator. She was sitting on the steps out there, bawling, when we pulled up. Pretty much been bawling since.

Thats always fun. Send in Crime Scene when they get here.

Thinking of the shoddy maintenance, Eve turned to the stairs, unpeeling her cold-weather gear as they climbed. One unit per level, she noted. Decent space, privacy. On the third floor she saw that the unit boasted what looked to be a spanking new security peep and cop-lock system. Both were broken in a way that indicated amateurand effective. She stepped inside, into a living area where a second female officer stood over a woman who was bundled under a blanket, trembling. Early twenties, by Eves gauge, with a long blond tail of hair sleeked back from a face where tears had washed through the makeup. She held a clear glass of what Eve assumed to be water in a two-handed grip. She choked out a sob.

Ms. Copperfield, Im Lieutenant Dallas. My partner, Detective Peabody.

The Homicide police. The Homicide police, she babbled in a flattened-vowel accent that told Eve Midwest.

Thats right.

Somebody killed Nat. Someone killed my sister. Shes dead. Natalies dead.

Im sorry. Can you tell us what happened?

II came in. She knew I was coming. I called her this morning to remind her. We got in late, and I had a wind-down drink with Mae, the other attendant. The door, downstairs&the door was broken or something. I didnt need my key. I have a key. And I came up, and the lockshe had a new lock, and she gave me the code for it this morning, whenwhen I called? But it looked broken. The door wasnt even locked. I thought, Somethings wrong, something has to be wrong, because Nat wouldnt go to bed without locking up. So I thought I should check, just look in on her before I went to bed. And I saw&Oh, God, oh, God, she was on the floor and everything was broken and she was on the floor, and her face. Her face.

Palma started to cry again, the tears running fat and steady down her cheeks. It was all bruised and red and her eyes&I ran over and I called her name. I think I called her name and I tried to wake her up. Pull her up. She wasnt sleeping. I knew she wasnt sleeping, but I had to try to wake her up. My sister. Someone hurt my sister.

Were going to take care of her now. Eve thought of the time it would take for her, then the sweepers, to process the scene. Im going to need to talk to you again, in a little while, so Im going to have you taken down to Central. You can wait there.

I dont think I should leave Nat. I dont know what to do, but I should stay with Nat.

You need to trust us with her now. Peabody.

Ill take care of it.

Eve glanced at the uniform who nodded toward a doorway. Eve walked away from the weeping. Then, sealing up, walked into death. 2

IT WAS A GOOD-SIZED BEDROOM WITH A COZYlittle sitting area on the street side. She imagined Natalie had sat there to watch the world go by. The bed looked female and fussy. Lots of pillows scattered around the roomsome of them bloody nowthat had likely been piled on the lacy pink-and-white spread, as some women loved to do. There was a small wall screen angled to be seen from either bed or sitting area, framed pictures of flowers, a long dresser. There were bottles and whatnots on the floorseveral brokenthat had probably sat in some girlie arrangement on the dresser. A couple of fluffy rugs graced the floor. Natalie was sprawled over one of them, legs twisted and bound at the ankles, her hands bound in front and clenched together as if in desperate prayer. She wore pajamas, blue-and-white checked. They were spotted and streaked with blood. A robe, also blue, was tossed in a corner. The matching tie was wrapped around the womans throat. Blood stained both fluffy rugs, and a splotch of vomit pooled near the door. The room reeked of both, and of urine. Eve moved to the body, crouched to do the standard ID test and gauge for time of death.

Victim is Caucasian female, age twenty-six, identified as Copperfield, Natalie, residing this location. Facial bruising indicates trauma perimortem. Nose looks broken. Two fingers of the right hand also appear broken. There are burns visible on the shoulder where the pajama top is torn. More burns on the bottoms of both feet. Skin has a blue-gray cast consistent with strangulation. Eyes are bloodshot and bulging. Wit touched the body upon discovery, some scene contamination. TOD, one forty-fiveA.M., approximately two hours before discovery.

She shifted as Peabody started in. Watch the puke, she warned.

Thanks. Ive got two uniforms and a departmental counselor picking up the sister.

Good. Vics still wearing her pjs. Sexual assault isnt likely. Look here, around the mouth. See, was gagged at one time. Got some of the tape adhesive on her face. See the right pinky and ring fingers?

Ouch. Snapped them.

Broke her fingers, broke her nose. Burned her. Lot of damage to her things that could have been caused in a fight, or by the killer to make a point.

Peabody crossed to a doorway. Bath through here. No link in place by the bed, and one on the floor here.

What does that tell you?

It looks like the vic grabbed the link, made a run for the bathroom. Maybe hoping to lock herself in, call for help. She didnt make it.

Looks like. Wakes up, hears somebody in the apartment. Probably figures its the sister. Maybe she calls out, or just starts to roll back over. Door opens. Not the sister. Grabs for the link, tries to run. Could be. New lock on the doora good one, with a security peep. Maybe somebodys been bothering her. Run her, see if shes made any complaints in the last couple months.

She rose, walked to the hall door. Killer comes in this way, shed see him from the bed. Smart to grab the link, sprint off in the opposite direction toward a room with a lock. Pretty smartquick thinking, too, if youve just woken from a sound sleep.

She moved back to the bed, walked around it, judging the distance toward the bath, and saw something glint just under the bed. She crouched down, then lifted a kitchen knife with her sealed fingers. Now why would she have a carving knife in the bedroom?

Big-ass knife, Peabody returned. Killers?

Then why not use it? I bet its from her kitchen. New locks, Eve continued, and a knife by the bed. She was worried about someone.

No complaints on file. If she was worried, she didnt report it.

Eve searched the bed, under the mattress, shook the pillows. Then walked into the bath. Small, tidy, girlie again. Nothing to indicate the killer had been in it. But Eve pursed her lips when she went through the cabinet and found mens deodorant, Beard-B-Gone, and mens cologne.

She had a guy, Eve said, moving back in to riffle through the nightstand drawers. Condoms here, edible body oil.

Bad breakup, maybe. New locks a given if youd given an ex access prior to. Could be he didnt like being dumped.

Could be, Eve repeated. That sort of deal usually includes sexual assault. Check her link for the incomings and outgoings last couple of days. I want to see the rest of the place.

She stepped out, reexamined the living area. Bad breakup, shed expect the ex to bang on the door awhile.Come on, Nat, goddamn it! Let me in. We gotta talk.Guys pissed enough, and the doors flimsy enough, most likely kick it down. But you never knew. She went into the kitchen. Good-sized, and from the looks of it, a place the vic had used. A knife block, with one missing, sat on the spotless white counter. She worked her way into the second bedroom, set up as a home office. Lifted her brows. The place had been thoroughly tossed. The data-and-communication center Eve imagined had sat on the glossy steel desk was missing.

No d-and-c unit in the office, she told Peabody.

What kind of office is that?

Exactly. Not a single disc in there, either. As other electronics, just as easily lifted and hocked, are still on-scene, the comp was the target. The comp and the vic. So what did Natalie have that someone else wanted?

Not only enough to kill her, but to make sure she hurt first. Pity edged Peabodys voice as she glanced back toward the body. Nothing on this link but the call from the sister, ten this morning, and a call out, at seven-thirtyA.M., to Sloan, Myers, and Kraus. She called in sick. Its an accounting firm, offices on Hudson. Entries prior to thisactually yesterday morningwere deleted. EDD can dig them out. You want to listen to what there is?

Yeah, but lets take them in. I want a run at the sister again.

On the way to Central, Peabody read off background data on the victim from her PPC. Born, Cleveland, Ohio. Parentsboth teachersstill married. One sibthe sister, three years younger. No criminal. Accountant with Sloan, Myers, and Kraus the past four years. No marriages, no cohabs on record. Resided the Jane Street address past eighteen months. Previously on Sixteenth in Chelsea. Previous to that was Cleveland, parents addy. She worked for an accounting firm there, part-time. Looks like a kind of internship while she was in college.

Numbers cruncher, moves to New York. Whats the lowdown on the firm here?

Hold on. Okay, big-deal firm, Peabody began, reading the data from her PPC. High-dollar clients, several corporations. Three floors at the Hudson Street addy, employing about two hundred. Been around for over forty years. Oh, the vic was a senior account exec.

Eve chewed on it as she angled into the underground parking at Cop Central. Guess she could get the skinny on some of those high-dollar clients. If somebody was running a second book, laundering. Taxevasion. Mobbed up. Another employee skimming. Blackmail, extortion, embezzlement.

Firms got a good rep.

Doesnt mean all their clients or employees do. Its an angle.

They parked, headed toward the elevators. We need the name of the boyfriendpast or present. Do the knock-on-doors at her building. See what she may have mentioned to her sister about work, or personal troubles. Way it looks, the vic was expecting or prepared for a problemand one she didnt want to report, or hadnt decided to report. To the cops, anyway.

Maybe to a coworker, though, or a superior, if it was work-related.

Or a pal.

The higher they rose in the elevator, the more people jammed on. Eve could smell minty soap from someone coming on tour, and old sweat from someone going off a long one. She muscled her way off on her level.

Lets set up an interview room, Eve began. I dont want to talk to her in the lounge. Too many distractions. She needs the grief counselor, she can have him with her.

Eve swung through the bull pen, and on into her office first. Ditched her coat, then did a check on the witnesss alibi. Palma Copperfield had worked the shuttle in from Las Vegas, and had been touching down in the downtown flight center just about the time her sister was strangled.

Dallas.

Eve glanced over at Baxter, one of the detectives in her squad. I havent had coffee in two hours, she warned. Or maybe three.

I heard you had a Palma Copperfield up in the crib.

Yeah, witness. Sister was strangled early this morning.

Ah, shit. He scooped a hand back through his hair. I was hoping I got it wrong.

You know them?

Palma, a little. Not the vic. Met Palma a few months backfriend of a friend of a friendat a party. We went out a couple times.

Shes twenty-three.

He scowled. Im not filing for frigging retirement any time soon. Anyway, it was nothing major. Nice woman. A real nice woman. Was she hurt?

No. Found her sister dead in the sisters apartment.

Rough. Damn it. They were tight, I think. Palma said how she stayed with her sister when she came to New York. I dropped her off at the buildingJane Streetafter we had dinner once.

You still involved?

Nowe werent. Went out a couple of times, thats all. As if he didnt know quite what to do with them, Baxter slid his hands into his pockets. Listen, if a familiar face would help, I can talk to her.

Maybe. Yeah, maybe. Peabodys setting up an interview room. Lounge is too public for this. She was in bad shape when I took her initial statement. She mention if her sister was involved with anyone?

Ah, yeah. Had a guymoney manager, broker, something like that. Serious, I think, maybe engaged. Cant say that I paid much attention to that. I wasnt after the sister, you know?

You catch the wit, Baxter?

Nah. He smiled a little. Like I said, shes a nice woman.

Which translated to they hadnt slept together, and made it less sticky to have him in on the interview. Okay, let me get Peabody working the link. Well take the wit.

Eve let Baxter walk into Interview ahead of her, studied Palmas tear-splotched face when the woman looked over. She blinked a few times as if trying to process new information, then a series of emotions streaked over her face. Recognition, relief, dismay, and finally the grief settled on it again.

Bax. Oh, God. She held out both her hands, so when he crossed to the table, he took them in his.

Palma, Im so sorry.

I dont know what to do. Nat. My sister, somebody killed her. I dont know what to do.

Were going to help you.

She never hurt anybody. Bax, she never hurt anybody in her whole life. Her face&

This is hard. The hardest thing. But you can help us help her.

Okay. Okay, but you can stay, right? He can stay? she asked Eve.

Sure. What Im going to do is turn the recorder on, and ask you some questions.

You dont think that I&You dont think that I hurt her?

Nobody thinks that, Palma. Baxter gave her hand a quick squeeze. We have to ask questions. The more we know, the faster we can find the person who did this.

Youre going to find them. She said it slowly, as if that, too, had to process. Then she closed her eyes for a moment. Youll find them. Ill tell you everything I can.

Eve engaged the recorder, read in the necessary data. You landed in New York early this morning, is that correct?

Yes, on the Vegas run. We got in around two, clocked out, I dont know, about twenty minutes later maybe. Thats about right. Then Maeshe had the run with mewe stopped at the bar in the airport for a glass of wine. Unwind a little. We shared a cab into the city. I dropped her first. She keeps a place with a couple other attendants, over on the East Side. Then I went on to Nats.

She stopped, took a breath, then a sip from the plastic cup of water on the table. I paid off the cab, and started in. Had my key out, and I know Nats code. But the lock was broken. It happens sometimes, so I didnt think that much about it. Not then. But when I got to her apartment, her lockshe told me shed put in a new lockthat was broken, too. I had this little jump in my belly. But I thought, I dont know, I told myself she hadnt gotten the lock installed right.

Did you notice anything off when you went insidethe living areas first, Eve said.

I didnt really pay attention. I put the security chain onshed have left that off for me. And I left my overnight bag there by the door because I thought Id just peek in, make sure everything was okay. But it wasnt.

Tears trembled, spilled again, but she kept going. She was on the floor, and there was blood, and the room wasit was like thered been a fight. Broken glass from her perfume bottles and the little bowls she liked to collect. She was on the floor. The pink rugs. I was with her when she bought them. They were soft, like a cat. She couldnt have pets. The rugs were soft. Im sorry.

Youre doing fine, Baxter told her. Youre doing just fine.

I ran. I thinkits all blurry. Did I scream? I think I screamed her name and I ran and I tried to lift her up, to shake her awake, even though I knew&I didnt want her to be dead. Her face was bruised and bloody, and her eyes. I knew she was dead. There was tape around her hands.

As if shed just remembered, she sent Eve a shocked look. Oh, God, her hands, her ankles. They were taped. Palma pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. I needed to call for help, but I got sick before I could get out, get my link out of my bag, I got sick. Then I ran out. I couldnt stay in there, so I ran out and called nine-one-one, and I sat down on the steps. I shouldve gone back in, stayed with her. I shouldnt have left her alone like that.

You did exactly the right thing. Baxter picked up the water cup, handed it to her again. Exactly the right thing.

Did she tell you anyone was bothering her? Eve asked.

No, butsomething was bothering her. I could tell. She looked upset when I talked to her earlier, but when I asked what was wrong, she said it was nothing to worry about. She just had a lot on her mind.

She was seeing someone? A man?

Bick! Oh, my God, Bick. I didnt even think of him. Eyes flooded again; she pressed both hands to her mouth. Theyre engaged. Theyre going to be married next May. Oh, my God, I have to tell him.

Whats his full name?

Bick, Bick Byson. They work togetherwell, for the same company. Different departments. Nats a senior account executive at Sloan, Myers, and Krausaccounting. Bicks a money manager there. Theyve been together almost two years now. How can I tell him?

Itd be better if we did that.

And my parents. She began to rock, back and forth, back and forth. I have to tell them. I dont want to do it over the link. Do I have to stay here? I need to go home, to Cleveland, and tell them Nats gone. Nat.

We can talk about that after were done here, Eve told her. Were your sister and her fiancé having any problems?

No. I dont know of any. Theyre crazy about each other. I guess I thought maybe theyd had a fight and thats why she was upset earlier. All the wedding plans, you get stressed out. But theyre really happy together. Theyre great together.

Did she have an engagement ring?

No. Palma took another long breath. They decided against onesaving their money. Bicks great, but hes pretty frugal. Nat didnt mind. Well, Nats the same way, you know? Save it for a rainy day.

He didnt live with her? Save money paying rent.

She wouldnt let him. For the first time Palma smiled again, and Eve could see how Baxter had been attracted. She said they were going to wait for that until they were married. Were pretty old-fashioned in my family. I think my parents like to believe Nat wasnt even having sex with Bick. They loved each other, she murmured. They were good together.

Were there any problems at work?

She never said. I havent seen her for about three weeks. I had a chance to take the New L.A. to Hawaii run for ten days, then I took a vacation out there with a couple of girlfriends. Id just gotten back on the Vegas to New York run. I talked to her a couple of times, but&We were going to catch up, go shopping, go over wedding plans. She never said anything about a problem, work or otherwise, but Iknowsomething was wrong. I just wasnt paying enough attention.

Eve stepped out with Baxter. You know anything about this fiancé of the vics?

No. He rubbed the back of his neck. Palma said something about her sister getting engaged. She was lit up about it, which is why&I backed off. Those things can be catching.

Your commitment issues dont enter in, so set them aside. It helped you being in there with her, familiar face leveled her out some. Why dont you get her to a shuttlestay on the clock. See she gets off to her parents.

Appreciate that, Lieutenant. I can take lost time to do it.

Stay on the clock, she repeated. Make sure she understands I need her available. I want to know where she is, when she comes back. The usual routine.

No problem. Feel so damn sorry for her. Youre going to look at the boyfriend.

Next stop.

Byson didnt show at the office. Peabody hoofed it onto a glide behind Eve. Which, according to his assistant, isnt the norm. Hardly ever misses, and always checks in if hes going to take off or be late. She tried him at home, and on his pocket link, being concerned, and couldnt reach him.

Got his home addy?

Yeah, hes on Broome in Tribeca. According to his chatty assistant, he and the vic just bought the loft, and hes staying there while theyre having some reno done before the wedding.

Well try him there.

Could have rabbited, Peabody said as she hustled off one glide and hotfooted to the garage elevator. Fights with fiancé, goes off on her, runs home. Runs away.

It wasnt personal.

Peabodys eyebrows knitted as they clipped off the elevator and across the garage. Those kind of facial injuries, and face-to-face strangulation often are.

We find any tools on the crime scene?

Tools?

Screwdriver, hammer, laser scope?

No. What does&Oh. Nodding now, Peabody slid into the passenger seat. The duct tape. If she didnt have any basic tools, why would she have duct tape? Killer brought it with him, which lessens the possibility of crime of passion.

No sexual assault added to that. Broken locks. When the vics sister talked to her hours before the murder, she got no indication of trouble in paradise. It wasnt personal, Eve repeated. It was business.

The loft was in an old, well-preserved building in a neighborhood where people painted their stoops and sat out on them on warm summer evenings. The windows facing the street were wide, to afford the tenants a view of the traffic, and the shops ran from the mom-and-pop bakery/deli to the snazzy little boutiques where a pair of shoes cost the equivalent of a quick trip to Paris and would turn your feet into a study in misery. Some of the units sported the luxury of balconies where, Eve imagined, people stuck plants and chairs in the good weather so they could sit and sip something cold while they watched their world go by. From the looks of the exterior, it was a major step up from the Jane Street address, and one suited to the combined incomes of a couple of young, urban professionals on the rise. Byson didnt respond to the buzzer, but before Eve could use her master, a womans voice piped through the speaker. You looking for Mr. Byson?

Thats right. There was a security screen, and Eve held up her badge. Police. You want to buzz us in?

Hold on.

The door buzzed; the locks clicked. They stepped into a tiny communal lobby where someone had gone to the trouble to set a leafy green plant in a colorful pot. Because she heard the elevator clanging its way down, Eve waited. The woman who stepped off was dressed in a red sweater and gray pants, with her brown hair pulled back in a stubby tail from a pretty face. She had a baby of indeterminant age and sex perched on her hip.

I buzzed you in, she said. Im Mr. Bysons neighbor. Whats the problem?

Thats something we need to discuss with him.

I dont know if hes home. She jiggled the baby as she spoke. The kid stared owlishly at Eve, then plugged its thumb in its mouth and sucked as if it contained opium. He should be at work this time of day.

Hes not.

Its weird, because I usually hear him leave. Were on the same floor, and I hear the elevator. Didnt catch it today. And he had the plumber scheduled, turns out. When theyre having one of the crews intheyre rehabbinghe stops by, asks me if I can let them in, you know? He didnt do that today, so I didnt. You cant be sure. Might be somebody with a pipe wrench just going in to rob the place.

So youve got the key to his place?

Yeah, key and code. Somethings wrong, isnt it? You want me to let you in? Youve got to give me some idea. I wouldnt feel right letting you in if I dont know somethings up.

Somethings up. Eve held up her badge again. Mr. Bysons fiancée was killed.

Oh, no. She shook her head slowly from side to side. No. Come on. Not Nat.

Her voice rose and cracked. In response, the baby unplugged its mouth and wailed.

You knew her. Eve took a subtle side step away from the baby.

Sure. She was here a lot. Theyre getting married in a few months. The womans eyes filled as she shifted to hold her baby closer. I liked her a lot. Were all looking forward to being neighbors. Bick and Nat, me and my husband. We&I cant believe it. What happened? What happened to Nat?

We need to talk to Mr. Byson.

God. God. Okay, okay. Obviously shaken, she turned to call for the elevator. Its going to kill him. Ssh, Crissy, ssh. She bounced and jiggled and patted the baby as they jammed into the elevator. They were nuts about each otherbut not sickening about it, if you get me. I liked her so much. Maybe theres a mistake.

Im sorry was all Eve said. Did she mention any problems? Anything, anyone bothering her?

No, not really. Some wedding jitters, just typical stuff. They were getting married up in Cleveland, where shes from. Hunt and I were goingour first trip since Crissy came. Hunts my husband. Look, Ill go get the key, she added when the doors opened into a hallway. Thats his place, there. We share the floor.

Just the two units up here?

Yeah. Nice space. Good light. Hunt and I bought our apartment when I got pregnant. Its a nice neighborhood, and weve got three bedrooms.

She unlocked her own door, tirelessly jiggling the baby who now had the slack-jawed, glaze-eyed look of a satisfied junkie. Holding the door open with one hip, she snatched a set of keys from a bowl on a table by the door.

We didnt get your name, Eve told her.

Oh, sorry. Gracie, Gracie York. She turned the key in the lock, typed a code in on a minipad over it. Maybe Bick had errands to run or something. I didnt hear him go out before, so he mustve left early. Crissys been fussy so I slept in a little this morning. Shes teething. Gracie started to open the door, but Eve held up a hand to block her.

Just a minute. Eve knocked. Mr. Byson, she called out. This is the police. Open the door, please.

I really dont think hes home, Gracie began.

Even so, well wait a minute before going in. Eve knocked again. Mr. Byson, this is Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD. Were coming in.

The minute she opened the door, Eve knew Byson was home, and that his neighbors earlier words had been right on the mark. Natalie Copperfields murder had killed him. Or, Eve was banking, her murderer certainly had.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod! Gracie babbled the words so that they came out in a single high-pitched hysterical stream as she pressed her babys face to her shoulder and stumbled back from the doorway.

Ms. York, go back inside your apartment, Eve ordered. Go back in, lock your door. Either my partner or I will be over in just a minute.

Its Bick. Is it Bick? Right across the hall. Were right across the hall.

At a wordless signal from Eve, Peabody took the womans arm. Take Crissy back home, Peabody said gently. Take her on in. Nothings going to happen to her. Just go inside and wait.

I dont understand. He must be dead. Right across the hall.

Peabody got the neighbor inside, turned back to Eve with a resigned look on her face. I guess you want me to take her.

Youre damn right. Call it in first, Peabody, then go in, get a formal statement from the neighbor. Ill get the field kits and start on the scene.

3

ONCE SHED RETRIEVED THE KITS, EVE SEALEDher hands, sprayed sealant on her boots. With her recorder engaged, she entered the crime scene. Side window, she noted, facing the neighboring building, and with a narrow balcony. South-facing window is open, she said for the record, and moved around the outer edge of the room for a closer look. Appears to have been forced open from the outside. Emergency evac here, probably used to gain access. Possibly exited by the same route.

Safer that way, Eve thought. No chance of the next-door neighbors catching you coming or going. She turned from where she believed the killer had entered. The bodys face up, hands and feet bound with duct tape, as previous vic. Second vic is mix-race male, late-twenties, wearing only a pair of white boxers. Woke up, didnt you, Bick, heard somebody out here. Gave him some trouble. Signs of struggle apparent. Overturned table, broken lamp. Not all of this bloods going to be the victims, so theres a break for our side. Victims face and body show bruises and lacerations.

She worked her way in, then crouched by the body. Some burn marks here, too, but these look like contact burns from a stunner mid-chest. They fight, killer incapacitates Byson with a stun, binds him, beats him. Questions him? Blue plastic cord of some kind used for strangulation.

Hunkered where she was, she scanned the room again. There are some building materials in the north corner of the room, tied with blue plastic cord, like that around the vics neck.

She took the prints for confirmation of ID, bagged his hands. Time of death, she said as she read her gauge, two forty-fiveA.M. Came here after doing Copperfield. She bent closer. Traces of adhesive around the mouth, as per previous victim. Why yank it off? Needed you to tell him something? Wanted to hear you choke as he strangled you? Maybe some of both.

She straightened to move from the body into the room off the living area. Bachelors bunking area, she deduced. Probably not the master, but where he was sleeping during the rehab. Mattress on a pallet, and the mate of the broken lamp on one of the two tables by the bed. Clothes strewn around, but in a way that said messy guy rather than search.

Woke up. Grabbed one of the lamps for a weapon. The woman, she grabs for her link and tries to run, but the guys got a different instinct. Protect the cave. Goes out, tangles with the killer. Surprises him maybe. Fight. Bruising on vics knuckles indicate he got a couple hits in anyway. Full-contact stun, and he goes down.

She walked back out, studied the positioning again. Killer tapes hands and feet, gags him. Doesnt kill him straight away, then. Why gag him if hes stunned? Has something to say or do first, then. Questions to ask. Did you tell him what you did to Natalie? Bet you did.

She did a quick preliminary walk-through. The loft had three bedrooms, as the neighbor said hers did. The largest of them was emptybut for more building supplies. The last was set up as an office. But there was no comp unit. She could see where thered been one, probably covered with a protective cloth when construction was on the slate. There was a coat of dust on the folding table standing as a desk, and a clear spot on it where a computer would have stood. She was back in the living area studying the open window when Peabody came in.

Neighbors shook, but shes solid. I let her contact her husband, ask him to come home from work. He left, by the way, about seven this morning. Wit says her husband and the vic here sometimes hit the health club together before work. They obviously didnt hook up this morning.

His TODs about an hour after Copperfields. Same MO. No comp on premises, no discs.

They had something on someone, Peabody concluded. Work-related probably. Knew something, heard something, worked on something. That how he got in? she asked, lifting her chin toward the window.

Its been forced. Evacs here on this level, but he likely exited that way. Could have sent it back up from the ground. Well want the sweepers to dust the controls. Wont be prints, but it keeps them busy.

She ran through the scene, and her take of it, for her partner.

Maybe some DNA on the pieces of the lamp, some on the vics fists. Peabody looked down at the body. Guy was in good shape. Looks like he gave his attacker some trouble.

Not enough.

They left the crime scene in the hands of the sweepers and headed for the accounting firm.

You know, seeing the kid back there reminded me. Howd the coaching class go last night?

Its not to be discussed, Eve said. Ever.

Aw, come on.

Ever.

To hide a smirk, Peabody glanced out the side window and looked longingly at a corner glide-cart. Baby showers coming right up. You set?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Or she hoped she was.

I made her this sweet baby blanket while I was in the weaving mode over the holidays. Its all rainbow colors. Im doing these cute little booties and a hat, too. Whatd you get her?

I dont know.

You havent gotten her shower gift yet? Cutting it close.

I got a few days. Considering, Eve glanced over. You could go buy something to cover it. Ill pay you.

Uh-uh. Its not right. Peabody folded her arms. Shes your oldest friend, your best pal, having her first baby. You have to buy it yourself.

Damn it. Damn it, damn it.

Ill go with you, though. We can swing by this baby place shes been haunting after we hit the offices. Grab some lunch, too, maybe.

Eve imagined the process of shopping in a baby boutique, and had to fight off a shudder. Ill give you a hundred dollars to go on your own.

Thats hitting below the belt, Peabody replied. But Im too strong to be bribed. You have to do the thing, Dallas. Its Mavis.

Coaching classes, baby showers, now shopping. Is there no end to the price of friendship?

Eve put it asideburied itand made her way to the main reception area of Sloan, Myers, and Kraus. In keeping with their service of high-end clients, the area was plush, glass-walled, and full of green, leafy plants. The wide stone-gray counter served as a work area for three receptionists, all of whom wore headsets and worked busily on keyboards. A trio of waiting areas fanned out like sunbeams, boasting deep chairs, media screens, and a selection of entertainment discs. Eve laid her badge on the counter in front of a three-piece-suited man with streaked blond hair worn in short, tight curls. I want to see someone in charge.

He gave her a cheerful smile. That certainly wouldnt be me. In charge of a specific department, or altogether in charge?

Lets start small. I want Natalie Copperfields and Bick Bysons supervisors.

Lets see. Copperfields Senior Account Exec, Corporate, Foreign and International. Thats this floor. Youll want Cara Greene. And ah, Byson, Byson. Byson, Bick, he all but sang as he read his screen. Vice President, Personal Finance, Domestic. Thats up a level, and it would be Myra Lovitz.

Well take Greene first.

Shes in a meeting.

Eve tapped her badge. Not anymore, shes not.

Okay by me. Ill call through. You want to have a seat?

No, just Greene.

Swank place, Eve thought as she waited. A lot of money came through these doors. And nothing tempted murder so much as lots of money. Cara Greene wore a dark red suit, and though it buttoned to the throat, it was cut in such a way that showed she had a nice, perky rack. She also had an impatient expression on a smooth, caramel-toned face, and clipped out into reception on ice-pick heels.

Youre the police? she demanded and shot an accusing finger at Eve.

Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody. Youre Greene?

Thats right, and youve just pulled me out of an important meeting. If my sons hooked school again, Ill deal with him. I dont appreciate the cops coming to my office.

Were not here about your son. Were here about Natalie Copperfield, and if youd prefer, you can come to my office. Now.

The irritation shifted immediately to wariness. What about Natalie? Youre not going to tell me shes in any trouble. Shed never break the law.

Can we take this into your office, Ms. Greene?

The expression changed again, and this time there were hints of fear in bottle-green eyes. Something happened to her? Was there an accident? Is she all right?

Your office would be best.

Come with me. Moving fast, Cara skirted around the reception desk, through a pair of glass doors that swished open on her approach. She kept up the brisk pace, past a jungle of cubes where the drones slaved away, past offices where accountants crunched their numbers, to the corner office that suited her position. She shut the door behind them, turned to Eve. Tell me fast. Please.

Ms. Copperfield was murdered early this morning.

Her breath hitched, a quick in and out before she held up a hand. She moved, not so briskly now, to a refreshment station along one wall, pulled out a bottle of chilled water. And sank to a chair without opening it.

How? How? I dont understand. I should have known something was wrong when she called in sick yesterday and didnt make this meeting this morning. I should have known. I was so mad at her. This meeting& She held up her hand again. Im sorry. Im sorry. Its such a shock.

Before Eve could speak, she lurched to her feet. Oh, God, Bick. Her fiancé. Does he know? Shes engaged to one of the vps in personal finance. He should be upstairs. Oh, God. Theyre getting married in May.

She worked for you directly?

Shes one of my senior account execs and on a fast track. Shes good. I mean&Oh, God, oh, God, shewasgood. Excellent. Personable, smart, hard-working. I planned to promote her, offer her a vp slot.

You were friends, Peabody put in.

Yes. Not best pals. I have to keep some distance being her boss, but yes. Closing her eyes, she pressed the chilled bottle to her forehead. We were very friendly. I cant believe this is happening.

Why dont you tell us where you were between midnight and four this morning.

You dont think& Cara sat again, and this time she opened the water bottle and drank. I was home, with my husband and our twelve-year-old son. My husband and I went to bed just after midnight. God, how was she killed?

Were not releasing the details of that at this time. Since you were friendly, and you were in a position of authority, did she say anything to you about being worried or bothered? Threatened?

No. No. No. Id say she seemed a little off the past couple of weeks, but I put that down to distraction. Wedding plans. Shed have told Bick if someone was bothering her. She told him everything.

Yeah, Eve thought, most likely she did. And thats why he was dead.

What was she working on?

She had several accounts, heads quite a number and is on teams that hold others.

Were going to need a list of all her accounts, and well need to see her files.

I cant do that. I cant. We have to protect our clients privacy. Wed be sued up the butt if I turned confidential files over to the police.

Well get a warrant.

Please do. I mean that, sincerely. Please get a warrant and Ill personally see that you have any and all data the law demands. I need to contact Mr. Kraus, she continued as she got back to her feet. I need to tell him whats going on. Whats happened. And Bick. Youll need to talk to Bick.

Bick Byson was also murdered early this morning.

She lost all of her color, every drop of it. II cant think. I dont know what to say. This is horrible.

Im sorry. I understand its a shock. We need to speak with Mr. Bysons supervisor.

Um, thatsoh, God, I cant think. Myra. Myra Lovitz. I can contact her for you.

Id prefer you didnt talk to her until we have. Who else would have worked on accounts with Ms. Copperfield?

Ill get you a list of names. Sorry. She clipped to her desk, yanked open a drawer, pulled out a tissue. Sorry, its starting to sink in. I can call upstairs, have Myras admin tell her youre coming. Would that help?

Thatd be good. Thanks for your cooperation. Well be back, with a warrant, for the files.

Upstairs, they were met by the admin and escorted straight back into an office similar to Caras. Myra Lovitz sat behind a desk covered with files, discs, notes. She was into her early sixties, Eve judged, and had let her hair go stone gray in a way that suited her tough, sharp-angled face. She wore a suitblue pinstriped and all business. She smiled sourly as Eve and Peabody came in.

Okay, what is this, a raid?

Were here concerning Bick Byson.

Even the sour smile faded. Something happen to the boy? Weve been trying to reach him all morning.

Hes dead. He was murdered last night.

Her lips folded in, her hands fisted on the desk. Goddamn city. Goddamn it. Mugged?

No.

Eve let Peabody take point on this one, ask the questions, get the statements. It was nearly a replay of the first interview, but with Myras more acerbic style.

Hes a damn good kid. Smart, reliable. Knows how to schmooze the clients when they need it, how to be all biz when they want that. Good reader of people, you know? He and that sweet kid from accounts downstairs? Both of them? God, what a world.

What were they working on? Peabody asked her.

They? Bick and Natalie didnt work on the same accounts. He did individuals, domestic, she did corporate, primarily foreign.

How did he seem to you the last couple of weeks?

A little jumpy, now that you mention it. Wedding coming up, and they just bought a place in Tribeca. Having it rehabbed, doing decorating, furniture shopping. Mans bound to be jumpy.

He didnt mention any concerns to you?

No. Her eyes sharpened. This wasnt just some random killing, was it? Are you telling me someone deliberately murdered those two kids?

No, maam, Eve interrupted. Were not telling you anything just now.

After starting the ball rolling on the warrant, Eve wanted only one thing. To get back to Central, and from there do both her written and oral reports, write up her timeline, start her murder board. But Peabody would not be denied.

You put it off, youll be sorry, and youll have to shop by yourself for baby stuff.

Im not shopping, with or without you. Im just going to buy something. And it better not take over ten minutes.

Then we can get food, right?

Its always something with you. There probably wont be anywhere to park. I should just get something online. You can just tell me what I should get and Ill get it. Isnt that enough?

No.

Bitch.

Youll thank me when Mavis gets all soft and gooey.

I dont like soft and gooey unless it comes in chocolate.

Speaking of chocolate, what kind of cake are we having for the shower?

I dont know.

Sincerely shocked, Peabody jerked around in her seat. You didnt getcake?

I dont know. Probably. Because the idea of the shower, what she had to do, hadnt done, should do, made her stomach jitter, Eve squirmed. Look, I called the caterer, okay? I did it myself. I didnt dump it on Roarke, I didnt askGod forbidSummerset to handle it.

Well, what did you ask for? Whats the theme?

The jitters escalated into a roiling. What do you mean, theme?

You dont have atheme? How can you have a baby shower without a theme?

Jesus Christ, I need a theme? I dont even know what that means. I called the caterer. I did my job. I told her it was a baby shower. I told her how many people, more or less. I told her when and where. She started asking me all kinds of questions, which gives me a fucking headache, and I told her not to ask me all kinds of questions or she was fired. Just to do whatever needed doing. Why isnt that enough?

Peabodys sigh was long and heartfelt. Give me the caterers info, and Ill check in with her. Does she do the decorations, too?

Oh, my God. I need decorations?

Im going to help you, Dallas. Im going to run interference with the caterer. Im going to come over early on the day and help get it set up.

Eve narrowed her eyes and tried to ignore the joy and relief bubbling in her breast. And whats this going to cost me?

Nothing. I like baby showers.

Youre a sick, sick woman.

Look, look! That cars going to pull out. Get the space! Get the space! Its first level, almost at the door. Its a sign from the goddess of fertility or something.

Damn Free-Ager, Eve mumbled, but beat out a Minibug for the parking slot. She thought shed hate shopping in a baby boutique. And Eve was a woman who knew herself well. There were gargantuan stuffed animals and mind-numbing music. There were tiny little chairs, strange mesh cages, other animals, or poofy stars hanging from the walls and ceiling. Racks were full of odd miniature outfits. There were shoes no bigger than her thumb. Thumb-sized shoes, she thought, were unnatural. Nothing that small should be able to walk on two legs, so why did it require shoes? Things rocked and swayed and played more tinkling music if you looked at them crooked. And there were a number of gestating women, and others who carried the fruit of their wombs in colorful slings or strange padded seats that hooked over their shoulders. One of those fruits was wailing in a thin, alien cry. And there were others, bigger ones, who sat in pushcarts or wandered around free to pummel the animals or climb on everything in sight.

Courage, Peabody soothed, and clamped a hand on Eves arm before Eve tried to bolt.

Just point at something and Ill buy it. Whatever it is. Cost is no object.

It doesnt work like that. We go to one of the screens, see? She registered. So we find out what she wants, and what people already bought for her. They have great stuff here.

Why does something that cant walk, talk, or feed itself need so much stuff?

For exactly those reasons. And babies need stimulation, and comfort. Here we go. Peabody engaged a screen. A fresh-faced young woman popped on, smiling cheerfully.

Welcome to the White Stork! How can we help you?

Registration list for Mavis Freestone, please.

Right away! Would you like to see the entire list of Ms. Freestones choices, or what is left to be fulfilled?

Whats left, Eve said quickly. Just whats left.

Just one moment!

Why does she talk like that? Eve questioned Peabody. Like Im brain dead.

Shes not

Dallas?

Such was the state of Eves nerves she nearly jumped at the sound of her name. Turning, she saw Tandy Willowby waddling toward her. Oh, and its Peabody, right? We met at Maviss once.

Sure, I remember. How you doing?

Really good. Tandy patted her belly. Nearly coming to countdown. Are you here for Mavis?

Just tell me what to buy. Eve was ready to beg. Im on the clock.

No problem. Actually, Ive got just the thing. Cancel registration search, she ordered. It may be more than you want to spend

I dont care about that. Just wrap it up.

Its a little too big. You know, Ive had to waylay Mavis a dozen times, convince her not to buy the place out, to wait until after the shower. Shes got her heart set on this rocker system.

Tandy moved through the aisles, leading the way through forests and meadows of baby merchandise with her long tail of sunny hair swinging. I talked my boss into ordering one in, in Maviss colors. I knew if she didnt get it as a gift, shed snag it after the shower. Ill show you our display model, then you can look at the one we ordered on screen. Its in the warehouse.

Itll be fine. Great. Ill just pay for it. Hey! Eve snapped when Peabody elbowed her.

At least look at it.

Oh, youve got to see it, Tandy agreed, her baby blue eyes wide and guileless. Its absolutely mag.

What Eve saw when Tandy gestured was a minty green cushy deal sort of shaped like a long S, that for some reason made Peabody coo.

It reclines, rocks, sways, vibrates, and plays music. There are twenty tunes in the default, and you can record and playback or download others. Or just the sound of the mothers voice, the fathers voice, whatever you like. Tandy ran a gentle hand over the top curve. The material is stain and water resistant, and so soft. Just feel.

Because it was obviously a requirement, Eve patted the chair. Nice. Soft. Cushy. Ill take it.

Youhaveto sit in it, Tandy insisted.

I dont

Go on, Dallas. Peabody gave Eve a nudge. Try it out. You have to.

Jesus, all right, all right. Feeling idiotic, Eve lowered to the chair, and felt it shift, just a bit, like a live thing. It moved.

The gel cushions mold to your shape. Tandy beamed. Itll adjust to you, or you can program a preferred settingmanually, or by voice recognition. Positions, movements, all can be adjusted manually or by voicecontrols are under both arm padsfor right- or left-hand use. Just flip it open with a finger.

Tandy demonstrated, revealing the board. And theres a new feature on the Delux model Mavis is loopy for. Baby sleeping, Mums tired? Tandy tapped three buttons, and the chair hummed gently as its side opened and a small padded box lifted out and up.

You just shift, lay the baby in the chair-side cradle, and both of you can take a little nap.

That is so completely uptown. Peabody cooed again, like a mourning dove.

Its safe for up to twenty pounds, will also rock independent of the chair. Theres also a small storage compartment on the other side, to hold burp cloths, nursing pads, extra receiving blankets. I swear, itll do everything but feed and change the baby for you.

Okay. With some relief, Eve pulled herself out of the chair.

It got top ratings fromBaby Style, Parenting,andTodays Familymagazines. The Mommy Channel had it as their top pick last year.

Sold.

Really? A happy flush pinked Tandys cheeks. Oh, thats brilliant. Thats mag.

You can get it to the house, right, for the shower?

Absolutely. And since I have some pull around here, Ill arrange for the second delivery to Maviss apartment to be included. No extra charge.

Appreciate it. As an afterthought, Eve studied the chair again. How much is this thing?

When Tandy named the price, Peabody gulped audibly. Eve just stared and said, Holy crap.

I know, its awfully dear, but its really worth the price. And I can offer you a ten percent discount on anything purchased today if you open a White Stork account.

No, no thanks. That, Eve thought as she rubbed her hands over her face, might just be tempting fate. Ill pay the full shot. The one in the colors Mavis likes.

Its a fully awesome gift, Dallas, Peabody told her.

It is. It really is. Tandys eyes actually went damp. Shes so lucky to have a friend like you.

Damn right.

Its only money, Eve reminded herself as she completed the transaction. Only a whole shitload of money. While she reeled from sticker shock, Peabody and Tandy bubbled on about babies, the shower, baby gadgets. When they segued into breast-feeding, Eve drew her line.

We gotta go. Crime and stuff.

Im so glad you stopped in, and not just because of the sale. I just cant wait until the shower on Saturday. My social lifes a little thin these days, she added with an easy laugh. Maviss baby shower is the highlight on my calendar. Except for this ones birthday. She patted her belly. The rocker system will be delivered the day before, by noon. Any problems, any at all, just contact me here.

Will do. Thanks, Tandy.

See you soon!

It was with gratitude that Eve stepped out of the warm, scented, musical air and into the cold, windy noise of the city. What time is it, Peabody?

Ah, about thirteen-thirty.

I want to go lie down in a dark room.

Well&

On duty, no rest for the traumatized. Soy fries will have to substitute for the comfort of oblivion.

We eat? Peabody nearly did a dance. We should go shopping more often.

Bite your tongue.

4

EVE WASNT SURE WHAT IT SAID ABOUT HERthat she was more comfortable in the morgue than in a baby boutique. And she didnt actually care. The cold white walls, the scent of death under the piney odors of cleansers were the familiar. She pushed through the thick door into Autopsy as Morris, the chief medical examiner, transferred Bick Bysons brain from his skull to a scale.

A two-for-one sale, I see. Morrishis spiffy suit of the day protected with a clear plastic capepaused to enter data. Then he set the brain in a tray. He wasnt tall, but he was built in a way the chocolate brown suit and dull gold T-shirt exploited. He was oddly sexy with those dark, slightly slanted eyes and the ink black hair scooped back in a tight, intricate braid.

Thats how I see it, Eve agreed. You concur. Same method, same killer?

Physical force and trauma. In technical terms, he whaled away on them. Binding, ankles, wrists. Id be very surprised if the CSIs dont find the tape came from the same roll for both your vics. Death by strangulation on each. Male vic was stunnedfull contact just above the sternum. He also has, as you noted in your on-scene, bruises and lacerations on his knuckles. He fought back. I removed a few bits of ceramic from his back and buttocks.

Broken lamp. Looks like he grabbed it from the bedroom, came out into the living area, tried to use it as a weapon on the intruder.

No postmortem trauma on either. When your killer was done, he was done. No sexual assault on either. Your female vic&

Morris wiped his sealed hands, then skirted around to where Natalie lay, cleaned, naked, and tagged.

Thats not your Y-cut, Eve observed with a frown as she studied the body.

Quite an eye you have there, Dallas. And his own twinkled with amusement. No, I supervised a new ME. Our motto around here is Die To Learn. The female was tortured before death. Broken fingers. The angle and position of the breaks indicate a backward thrust.

Morris held up his own hand, gripped his pinky with the other, and pulled it back and down. Effective, and painful.

Eve remembered the breathless, shocking pain when her father had snapped the bone in her arm. Yeah. Yeah, it is.

Burningshoulder, belly, bottoms of the feet. Looks like contact burns with a laser pointer or something very similar. See the circular shape? It had to be pressed down very hard, very firm to not only burn the skin, but to leave that defined a burn.

To get a better look, she slid on a pair of microgoggles. No blurring, or very little on these. Her feet were bound tight at the ankles, but shed jerk and struggle when he burned her. Had to clamp onto her foot with his hand, hold it still. Very serious about his work.

She pulled off the goggles. Her nose is broken.

Yes, but when we use the micros, you can see the detail bruising, both sides of the nostrils. He picked up the pair Eve had laid aside, then offered them to Peabody when Eve jerked a thumb at her partner. Putting them on, Peabody leaned down. I just see a big mess of bruising. She focused, frowning, as Morris shined a pinpoint light over the side of Natalies nose.

Okay, yeah. I get it. I dont think Id have seen it, but I get it now. He had her mouth taped, then he clamped her nose closedhard, with his thumb and finger. Cut off her air.

With the broken nose shed have had considerable trouble breathing. He made it harder.

Interrogating her, Eve said to Morris. If it was a straight torture killing, hed have done more. Cut her up some, broken more bones, burned her more severely and over more of her body. Thered most likely be some sexual abuse, or trauma to the breasts and genitals.

Agreed. He just wanted to hurt her. On the male, he skipped the interrogation portion of the program. Went from beating to strangling.

Because the woman told him what he needed to know, gave him what he needed to have, Peabody concluded.

And the second vic had to die because the first told the killer her boyfriend knew what she knew, or had seen what shed seen. The motives in her, Eve murmured.

At Central, Eve sat at her desk downing coffee and adding data and notes to her initial reports. She put in another call to the PAs office to check on the warrant, got the runaround. Lawyers, she thought. The accounting firms lawyers had knee-jerked a motion to block the warrant. Not unexpected, Eve mused, but theyd get itnot likely before the end of the business day, however. She knee-jerked herself and called to harass the lab. The evidence had been gathered, was being processed. They werent miracle workers. Blah, blah. What she had was two DBsa couplekilled in their separate homes a few blocks apart, about an hour apart. Female first. Same employer, different departments. Violent deaths, missing comp units and data discs. No known enemies. The killer had to have personal transportation, she mused. Cant go hauling d-and-c units from murder scene to murder scene. Frowning, she checked her incoming to see if Peabody had determined the types of units the victims owned. And found her efficient partner had copied her the list of units registered to both. Two desk units, two PPCs. And that didnt include the memo booksno required registration with CompuGuardthey must have owned, which, like the comps, hadnt been on either scene. Good equipment and fairly compact, she thought as she took a look at the models, but she couldnt see the killer hauling Copperfields machines up Bysons emergency evac. No, hed had a vehicle to transport them, to lock them safely away while he finished his nights work. Where did he park? Did he live close to either scene? Did he work alone? Brought the binding tape with him, and probably the stunner, the laser pointer or whatever tool hed used for the burnspreparation. Used weapons on hand for the killings. Opportunistic. Knew female vics building lacked security cams, alarms. And that the second scene had better security. Scoped them out first, preparation again. And/or had personal knowledge of the scenes. Had he been inside before the murders? Prior personal contact with the victims? She rose, set up her board, then sat again, angling her chair so she could study the faces of her dead.

What did you know, Natalie? What did you have? What did you figure out? Had you worried, whatever it was.

Called in sick the morning of the murder. Put on an extra lock, security peep, in a place you were moving out of in a few months. Yeah, you were worried. But not enough to tell the sister, or the boss she was allegedly friendly with. But Bick went into work that morning. Maybe not as worried, maybe to keep an ear to the ground. And not worried, not scared enough to have the boyfriend come over, stay the night. Not scared for your life, Eve concluded, despite the knife in the bedroom. Shook, upset, nervouscareful. But not scared for your life. Probably felt stupid, even a little embarrassed when you brought that knife into the bedroom with you. But youre not scared enough to call the cops, even move in with the fiancé for a few days. Maybe working on something. Liked your space, your quiet. But it gets dark, youre a little wiggy. To refresh herself, she called up the replay from Palmas pocket link, reviewed the transmission to her sister. Hey, Nat! Palm. Where are you? Somewhere over Montana. Vegas/New York runs, remember. Were loaded with them today. Back and forth, full shuttles. Im getting into New York late. Still okay if I crash with you, right? Sure. I really want to see you. Ive missed you. Me, too. Hey, something wrong? No. No. Just a lot on my mind. You had a fight with Bick. No. Were fine. Im just&theres a lot going on. Its&listen, youre off tomorrow, right? After a shift like this, you bet. Want to ditch work and have a girl day? I really do. We could do some shopping. Wedding plans. Yeah. And I could clear my head, maybe run something by you. Youre not changing your colors? What? No, no. Its nothing to do with that. Its about Damn, Five As beeping me again. You go. Well talk about it tomorrow morning. Oh, youve got the new key, the code I sent you this morning? Right here. Sweetie, you look so tired. Whatoh, for Gods sake. Beep, beep, beep. Sorry, Nat. Its okay. You go. Ill see you soon. Palma, Im really glad well have some time. Me, too. Pancakes for breakfast? You bet. Bye! Stress level up on the vic, Eve thought. No need to run a voice analysis. She could hear it plainly and see it in the vics eyes. Not fear, but tension and fatigue. She was going to tell her sister, whatever it was. Lay it out for her as shed laid it out, Eve was sure, for her fiancé. Lucky for Palma, shed been out of the loop at the time of the murders. Looking for advice, someone to share the burden. I know this thing, found this thing, suspect this thing. Im not sure what I should do. Closing her eyes, Eve brought Natalies apartment back into her mind. Female, tidy, matching this and matching that. The clothes Eve had pawed through had been the same. Definite style. Hard-working accountant. Practical and organized. New lock. Careful and cautious. Whatever shed known or had that had killed her, she hadnt known or had it long. Eve judged Natalie Copperfield as a woman who knew her mind. Shared the information with someone else besides the boyfriend, maybe. If so, it had been the wrong person. Taking the list provided, Eve began a standard run on the victims coworkers, superiors, and the heads of the firm. Then she tagged Peabody on the interdepartment link. Do a search and run on the other tenants in Copperfields building. Maybe she saw something at home, or in the neighborhood.

I was heading there. Just went over the statement from the neighbors, both scenes. Nothing on the surface on either.

So we go under. I got the click on a search of their financials. Ill look there.

They werent blackmailers. Theres no vibe.

We look anyway.

No vibe, Eve agreed, but brought up Natalies data. What she found was, she supposed, what should be expected for a number cruncher. Organized, frugal, balanced accounts. The occasional spree, and a big, fat chunk laid out three months before at White Wedding for a dress, veil, undergarments. There hadnt been any fancy wedding dress in the apartment. Eve relayed the same to Peabody.

It would have to be fitted, she was informed. Theyd probably keep it at the shop, and schedule fittings up to a week or so before the big day.

Oh. Right. Lets check anyway, be sure.

Got a couple minor possessionsillegal substanceon the first-floor tenant, first scene. Pauli, Michael. Last one three years back. A D-and-D, and a shoplifting charge on tenant on second scene. Neither recent.

Ive been running the office. Im going to shoot that data to youyou keep at itand head up to EDD. See if theyve dug anything off her pocket link.

I can go to EDD.

Im not sending you up there to play grab-ass with McNab.

Aw.

Run the names, Peabody. Anything pops, tag me. Otherwise, send the results back to my unit here, and at home. Clock out when youre done. You can go home and play grab-ass.

He doesnt have much to grab, but what there is

To save herself, Eve cut the transmission. She saved herself again by taking the glides rather than the elevator to EDD. At change of tour, the elevators were a box of bodies and odors. The glides were bad enough, jammed with cops coming on, going off, bringing in subjects for questioning, hauling others down to Booking. Eve squirmed her way off and took the stairs to the last level. She came out into the corridor of the EDD unit and was all but blinded by the wild squiggly pattern of blue lightning bolts on violent pink that only Ian McNab would call a shirt.

I want to know where you shop, she demanded.

Huh? Hey, Dallas.

Because I never want to make the lethal mistake of going there. She dug out credits. Get me a tube of Pepsi from that sarcastic, sadistic thing people call a vending machine.

Sure. He caught the credits she tossed him. Peabody was right, at least about the fact he didnt have much ass. He was built like a reed, dressed like a circus star, and had the soul of an e-geek. His hair was slicked back in a blond tail leaving his thin, pretty face unframed. There were countless silver hoops in his left ear. She wondered why he didnt list to that side when he walked.

I caught your case, he told her, and tossed her the tube. Just on my way back from making a pit stop. About to tag you.

You got something for me?

Got the first vics trans, seven days back. Can get you more. See, even when you clear the link, the trans are on the hard drive for

I dont want a nerd lesson, just the results.

Come on back.

If Homicide was business casual, EDD was haute couture. On Venus. McNabs lightning bolts sizzled among a storm of clashing colors, shiny materials, gel-boots, and pounds of body adornments. Where Homicide hummed, EDD sang. Shrieked, actually, Eve thought, with beeps and buzzes, voices, music, and electronic whistles. Shed go mad in an hour under these conditions and often wondered how her old partner, Feeney, captain of the division, survived. In fact, she corrected,thrivedamong the peacocks and passion flowers. McNab grabbed a disc from his workstation. Well take a booth.

He wound his way through the jungle. Most of EDD danced around, talking on headphones. It gave her the jitters. She followed McNab through glass doors where a dozen clear booths were lined up like soldiers. More than half of them were occupied. McNab snagged one, then slid the disc into a slot on a sleek little comp unit. Most of the trans are to the second vic. Some to her mother, her sister, the office. Others to shops and stuffshe was getting married, right?

That was the plan.

Yeah, doing checks on flowers, the dress, that kind of stuff.

Can we skip those?

Figured as much so I made two files. This one just has the trans to the boyfriend. You can review the other if you need it. Replay, he ordered. The computer recited the date of the transmission, the time, the codes used. Byson came on screen, as he would have on Natalies pocket unit. Hed been a good-looking guy, Eve mused, before hed had his face smashed in. Hey, Nat. Bick. Are you alone? Yeah, Im about to head into a meeting. Whats up? I need to talk to youabout&what Ive been looking into. Can you take lunch? I cant. Ive got one scheduled. What is it? I dont think we should talk about it on the link. After workwell go to my place. I need to show you. Come down when youre finished for the day, okay? I think this is really important. Okay, see you later. The computer announced end of transmission, time elapsed.

A little stressed, a little jumpy, but excited, too, Eve mused. Like,Look what I found.

The next was a day later, an incoming. Hey, babe. Im trying to move this dinner meeting along, but its dragging. Do you want me to come by after? No, no, thats okay. Im working. Bick, Im finding more. I think a lot more. Ill fill you in tomorrow. Meet me for breakfast maybe? Our spot. Ill be there. Seven-thirty good? Perfect. God, Bick. I just cant believe all this. We have to find it all. It has to be stopped. We could go to the cops. Not yet. We have to be absolutely sure. We dont know whos involved, not on this end. Not for certain. We have to be careful. Ill tell you about it in the morning. Dont work too late. Love you. Love you right back. There were a handful of others, increasingly tense, equally cryptic, ending with one near midnight, only a couple of hours before the first murder. Just wanted to talk to you. See your face. Nat, listen, Ill just come over. Its late, and you had such a long day. Im fine, really. Just edgy, I guess. And Palma will be here later. I always feel so odd having you sleep here when shes staying over. You puritan. Guess I am. But she laughed a little. Im going to tell her, Bick, talk it through with her. I dont like the way you were approached. Nat, they tried to bribe you. And as far as they know Im thinking about it. It was more ultimatum than bribe. They might try to hurt you. I asked for forty-eight hours to think about it. Ive got time. Theres no reason for them to try anything before I give them my answer. Ive got the new lock, the security peep, Palmas coming. Im in this now, Bick. I want to finish it. I just want to put it all together, talk to Palm. Tomorrow, well take everything to the authorities. Ill come over in the morning. Well go together. Dont bring your file copies. Lets just&like insurance, you know. If cops dont work, well go to the media. This has to be exposed. One way or the other, Nat. Well fry their asses. And get back to our lives. I cant wait to marry you. Crazy about you. Sleep tight, babe. Thisll be over tomorrow. I cant wait for that either. Love you. Night.

Civilians, Eve said with a churning mix of pity and anger. Playing detective. Theyd gone to the cops, theyd be alive.

Had something hot, McNab agreed. Bribes and threats, ending in bloody murder. Ill push back further, maybe she dropped more detail earlier in the game. Seems pretty clear it was something she came across at her work.

Still waiting for the fucking warrant for her files. Lawyers. Damn it. Somebody wants to, theyve had plenty of time to pull incriminating, do some major covering up.

Everything leaves a trail. EDD bloodhounds will sniff it out. He pulled out the disc, passed it to Eve. Damn shame about them. You could see they had the real thing going.

Theyd stuck with numbers, left the bad guys to us, theyd still have it going.

But she was heavy with that pity as she pushed out of the booth.

Go back, she said to McNab. Keep going back. Seems to me if someone had contacted her via link on this thing, shed have kept a record of the transmission. She thought she was setting up a case. Accountants, theyre all about columns and balancing things out, keeping records. If there was electronic contact, shes got it somewhere.

Or had it, Eve thought as she gratefully headed out of Club EDD. Shed have told her killer anything he wanted to know before he was done with her. Eve hit the lab on her way home. Her goal was to pin down Dick Berenski, chief lab tech, into passing on whatever they had to this point. But as she moved through the tunnels and glass-walled labs and cubes, she spotted Harvo, a tech shed worked with before. Harvos short, spiked red hair was covered with a protective cap painted, Eve noted, with naked men. Nice hat.

Fun where you find it. Harvo snapped gum the color of healthy lungs. You looking for Dickhead, hes gone. Got leave, a few days southprobably half-juiced by now and hitting on some unfortunate woman who just wants to drink her piña colada in peace.

Whos running the asylum?

Yons got this tour, but hes in the field. Pulled up a floater from the East River. Being thats his favorite variety, he went out to the scene. You want, I can run you through what weve got on your double murder.

Appreciate it.

Live to serve.

Instead of taking Eve to Berenskis domain, Harvo wound her way through the maze to her own workstation. You looking to do field work, Harvo?

Nah. I like my hive. She boosted onto her stool, hooked her thick-soled, high-topped black and green sneakers on the rung. And the whole dead body thing isnt big on my list of appeals. I just cruise onthe evidence, you know? Wiggling her butt on the stool, she played her long, varnished nails over a keyboard.

I didnt process your tape. Tech who did just left for the day. Probly shot you the report before, but since youre here&

Since Im here.

Tape on both murders came from the same roll. See here? You got your end from female vics ankles, dead match with the end from the male vics hands. Took hours to straighten those suckers out, but you got your match. Garden variety duct tape.

Dont suppose we got a miracle and found prints.

Not a one. Some DNA though. None on the female DB, nothing under her nails. Prints on the scenemurder onevics, second vic, sister of first vic. Blood spatter, all vics. She didnt do any damage. But your male DB got some licks in.

You got DNA from scene two.

Not all the blood at the second scene was your vics. Got nice samples off the second vics knuckles. He popped the bastard. You get him, we can match him. Prints up the waz, second scene.

Doing reno there.

Yeah, we got that. You got plenty there to clear. Well run them for you, give you names and locations. Nothing on the body, as per your first. But what we got on your male vic was blood and salivanot his. Cord used to strangle second vic was cut from binding on scene.

Took his fun where he found it, too.

You could say. Heres a little something. Outside locks on females building were complete shit. Broke em in with a smooth, round object. Little hammer maybe. Whack, whack, youre in. Better locks upstairs. Used locksmith tools on those.

Shed seen that for herself, but Eve nodded. Came prepared. Knew about the fresh lock.

So, anyways, well get your ID on the prints, second scene, so you can run em.

Appreciate it.

Kept an eye on her, Eve thought as she battled her way home through the cranky wall of traffic. Bribed her firstprobably going to kill her anyway. Copperfield thought the bribe bought her time, but it bought her killer time, too. Planning and prep time. Something hot enough to kill for twice was too hot to take chances with a payoff. Back to the accounting firmjust had to be. She needed those damn files. Using the dash link, she contacted Assistant Prosecuting Attorney Cher Reo.

Im on my way out, Reo said. I have an actual date. Dont screw with me.

I have two bodies in the morgue. I want my warrant. Dont screw with me.

Do you know how much paper a lawyer can generate in a few hours?

Is that one of those questions like how many angels can dance on the head of a pin?

Reno smiled sourly. Runs down the same channel.

Why would angels dance on a pin? Wouldnt they rather boogie in the clouds?

I would. Reos lips curved slyly. But Im not an angel.

Me either. Now, enough of this philosophizing. About those lawyers, about my warrant.

Im going to get it, Dallas, but Im not going to get it before morning. Were not just talking lawyers, were talking really rich lawyers with big, fat retainers and hordes of legal drones who can find a precedent in a haystack.

A haystack? What does that mean?

Never mind. Reo sighed, long and deep. Its been a day, thats the best I can say about it. Ive got a judge reviewing their last block rightnow. If hes not too big on having, say, an actual meal or a life, he may rule on it within a couple hours. I hear, you hear.

The minute, Eve said, then cut off. Too much time, she thought. Too much time screwing around the system. Whoever killed Natalie and Bickor ordered them killedhad probably started deleting or adjusting the files immediately. She hoped McNab was right about the EDD hounds digging up the scent she had a feeling was being covered up even as the lawyers dug through their haystack. But if EDD let her down, she had a very sleek, very smart hound of her own. So thinking, she drove through the gates of home. 5

BECAUSE HER MIND WAS ON OTHER THINGS,Summerset caught Eve off guard as she came in the door.

Do you require change-of-address forms?

Huh? What? She yanked herself back to the moment, then immediately regretted it. He was in her moment, the bony, black-suited pain in her ass. Cant you find another place to haunt? I hear theres one available down on East Twelfth.

His lips thinnedif, she thought, it was possible for what passed as his lips to compress in an even tighter line. I assumed as you no longer appear to live here, youd need the proper forms.

She pulled off her coat, tossed it on the newel post. Yeah, get those forms, Ill fill them out. She started up the stairs. How many Ms in Summerset anyway?

She left him behind in the grand foyer. Roarke was probably home, she decided, but shed wait until she was out of the hearing of those demon ears before she checked on one of the house scanners. She was tempted to go straight into the bedroom, fall flat on the bed for twenty minutes. But with the case weighing on her, she continued up to her office. He was there, pouring wine.

Long day for you, Lieutenant. Thought you could use this.

Couldnt hurt. Either the man was psychic or she was pretty damn predictable. Been home long?

A couple of hours.

She frowned, checked the time. Its later than I thought. Sorry. I should have done the call home thing, probably.

Couldnt have hurt. But he moved to her, handed her the glass. Then he took her chin in his free hand, studied her face before he touched his lips to hers. Long, hard day.

Ive had shorter and easier.

And from the look of you, youre going to make it longer. Red meat?

Why is everyone speaking in code around here?

He smiled, ran his fingertip along the dent in her chin. You could use a steak. Yes, pizza would be easier to eat at your desk, he continued, anticipating her. Consider having a meal that requires utensils payment for not checking in.

I guess thats fair.

Well have it up in the conservatory. To avoid protest, he simply took her arm and led her to the elevator. Itll clear your head.

He was probably right, and in Roarkes world it was a simple matter to order real meat and all the trimmings, have a meal with wine, even candles, in a lush setting where the lights of the city twinkled and gleamed beyond black glass, and a cheerful fire crackled away. There were times she wondered that she didnt get whiplash from the culture shock.

Nice, she said and tried to adjust her mind, her mood.

Tell me about the victim.

Victims. It can wait.

Theyre in your head. Well both do better if you talk it through.

So, you dont want to chat about politics, the weather, the latest celebrity gossip over dinner?

He smiled, sat back, gestured with his glass. She told him, going step by step through both murders, the timing, the method, the background.

Listening to them talk to each other? It just hit. They had something. It went beyond the surface, you get me? Beyond that gooey first stage of attraction.

The potential they had&Its not just one or even two people being snuffed out, but the potential of what they might have made together.

Yeah, I guess thats it. She stared through that black glass to the lights of a city that offered the very best, and the very worst. Pisses me off.

Youre rarely anything but pissed at murderers.

Thats a given. I mean they piss me off, the vics. What the hell were they thinking? Frustration rippled through her, into her eyes, her voice. Why didnt they go to the cops? Theyre dead not only because somebody wanted them dead, but because they were playing at something they couldnt possibly win.

Many of us dont automatically run to the police.

Some of you run from them, she said dryly. She had that new lock installed just two days before. Tells me shes got some concerns. She takes a knife into the bedroom with heror I have to assume she did from my read of the scene. Tells me she was scared. But& She stabbed viciously at a bite of steak. At the same time she says nothing to her defenseless sister whos coming to spend the night. She doesnt, at the very least, hole up with her boyfriend.

And youre suffering some, Roarke thought, because it could have been prevented if shed come to someone like you. She had a sense ofindependence, then, and an underlying certainty she was handling and could handle the situation.

Eve shook her head. Its that It cant really happen to me attitude. The same one that gets people to stroll around in bad neighborhoods or flip off the expense of decent security. Violence happens to the other guy. And you know what else? she added, waving her fork. They were into it. Wow, look what weve uncovered. Were going to blow it openand do interviews, be important.

Ordinary people, ordinary lives, and then something that pulls them out of that. The accounting firm has an excellent reputation.

But you dont use them. I checked. Mostly because I thought what a big, complicated mess if you did.

I considered them once upon a time. I found Sloan too stuffy and rigid.

Isnt that the definition of accountants?

Shame on you, he said with a laugh. Such a cliché. There are people, darling Eve, who enjoy and are skilled with numbers and finance who are neither stuffy nor rigid.

And here I figured you were the exception to the rule. No, Im just being pissy, she admitted. Feel pissy. The firms had their lawyers tangling up the warrant all damn day. Theyve got two employees murdered and theyre blocking me from doing my job.

By doing theirs, he pointed out. Sorry, Lieutenant, but if they didnt use their muscle, and the law, to do whatever possible to protect their clients privacy, they wouldnt have the reputation they hold.

Somebody in there knows what Copperfield and Byson knew. They were cogs, moving into the center of the wheel, but still cogs. Somebody closer in knows.

He cut another slice of steak. It wouldnt be impossible for someone with superior hacking skills to access the files on Copperfields office unit.

She said nothing for a moment because shed thought the same. Shed considered this streamlined approach. Cant do it.

Didnt think you could. And the why is the same as why the firm is paying their lawyers to paper the PA. Its the job. At this point, you arent aware of other lives on the line. You cant justify the shortcut.

No, I cant.

You would be, I imagine, working your way into the wheel. Copperfields immediate supervisor.

Interviewed her, ran her. Im not crossing her off, but if she wasnt genuinely shocked and distressed about Copperfields death shes missed her calling. Doesnt mean she isnt aware of, potentially, part of what Copperfield discovered. Why wouldnt Copperfield go to her supervisor, with whom she hadallegedlya friendly relationship? Had to assume Greene, the supervisor, knew the secret. Or was afraid of that.

Youre so sure it was something discovered at the firm?

It all points there. Money laundering, tax evasion, fraud, skimming? Some legit front for something not legit. She shrugged. Could be all manner of things. You probably know people who use the firm.

Im sure I do.

Something for the back pocket, she added. Not just a little skimming or whatever, she continued. Not with the level of nerves and excitement it generated, not with the violence of the murders. A big deal. Something that drew an offer of a bribe, and ended with two deaths.

He considered topping off their wine, but it would be wasted. His dedicated cop wouldnt indulge herself in a second glass if she was going back to work. Are you looking at professional hits?

Doesnt feel like it, doesnt look like it. And why cover that up, if so, and not go further? Make it look like burglary. Rape, personal vendetta. But it wasnt sloppy either. When I get him, Im going to be surprised if these were his first kills.

Down in her office again, she set up a board as she had at Central. With the cat ribboning between his legs, Roarke stood and watched. And studied.

Hot-tempered and cowardly.

She stopped, turned. Why do you say that?

Her face, for one. It took several blows to do that to her face. That wouldnt have been necessary. Would it?

No. Keep going.

Roarke lifted a shoulder. Binding her hands and feet tightly enough to leave those bruises. Thats anger, Id think. The burns, bottoms of her feet. Theres a meanness there. And its cowardly to strangle her when she was boundsame with the male victim. And the use of the stunner. It just strikes me.

Struck me the same. But you missed one. He got some kick out of it. No point seeing their faces when he killed them otherwise. Makes it intimate. Not sexual, but intimate. And he pulled the tape off their mouths before he killed them. Took that extra step. Its powerful to watch the life go out, to see it and hear it while you cause it. Couldve done it a lot of other ways, but this method?

Her eyes flattened as she looked at the pictures shed tacked up. You feel it, your muscles, your hands. You hear the chokes, the gasps the tape wouldve muffled. Yeah, theres temper here, but the powers bigger.

She settled into work, unsurprised when the cat padded out after Roarkewho would no doubt be more attentive than she would for the next couple of hours. She studied the data Peabody had sent to her unit. Copperfields neighbors were low on the list, in her opinion. Why bother with a new lock when your potential problem could just make a grab at you in the hallway, in the elevator? As for Bysons, they didnt fit for her either. The source was Copperfield, not her fiancé. International accounts, Eve thought. That had been Copperfields bailiwick. Smuggling was always popular. A glossy client fronting illegals, arms, people smuggling? She replayed the conversations between the two victims, watched faces, tuned in to voices. Upset, she concluded, some shock, excitement, but not horror or real fear. Wouldnt there have been if what theyd found had involved loss of life? It said white-collar crime to her. High-dollar, white-collar, and at least to their knowledge, nonviolent. A thought occurred that had her getting up, walking to the door between her office and Roarkes. But his was empty. Even as she frowned, he spoke from behind her.

Looking for me?

Jesus, you make less noise than the damn cat.

Tubs of lard arent particularly stealthy. Come to bed.

I just wanted to

Twenty hours is enough. Once again, he took her arm. Did your warrant come through?

About a half hour ago. Im just going to

Get back to it in the morning.

Okay, okay. She agreed because if he could drag her off without her blocking the move, fatigue was slowing her reaction time. I was just wondering, as a mogul and all, how many layers does one of your minions have to go through to get to you?

It would depend on the minion and the reason he or she wanted to get through to me.

But whatever, whoever, thered be the Caro layer, right? she asked, referring to his admin.

Yes, in all probability.

Even if the minion made up a bullshit reason, Caro would know there was an appointment, a meeting.

Certainly.

And each one of those top guys at the firm would have a Caro.

Theres only one Caro, and shes mine. But again, yes, theyd have an admin, and Id assume an efficient one.

In the bedroom, she pulled off her boots, then began to undress in a haze that told her whatever shed had left had dropped out when shed walked away from the work.

Going there bright and early, she mumbled. Get my hands on those damn files. Asshole lawyers cost me a damn day. Like to kick their asses.

Thats right, darling.

I heard that smirk.

She slid into bed, let him draw her in so they were close and warm. Bought the baby shower present thing today.

Good.

She had a little smirk of her own in the dark. If Mavis goes into labor during the deal here, you have to drive her to the birth center.

There was utter silence for a solid ten seconds. Youre trying to give me nightmares. Very small of you.

Somebody told me today you take your fun where you find it.

Is that so? Well then. His hand slid slickly under her nightshirt and cupped her breast. Look what I found.

Sleeping here.

I dont think so. His thumb stroked over her nipple as his teeth nipped into the nape of her neck. But go on to sleep if you must. Ill just have my fun and ward off nightmares. Multitasking.

As his mouth and hands were all very busy, she could state without question the man knew how to multitask. And the slow, steady simmer of arousal burned away at fatigue until she arched from the pleasure of it. Her mind went quiet; her blood went hot. She turned to him, reached for him, her mouth seeking his. The taste of it, of her, seeped into him until he was drenched in her. With the long line of her pressed against him, her hands gliding, the feel of her seduced the seducer. He wanted her skin, the rapid beat of the pulse in her throat, the firm curve of her breast. Soft and strong and warm. Her breath caught, released on a low sound of approval; her hips rose in both invitation and demand. As she moved with him, trembled for him, the need inside him that was never quite tamed leaped free. Yes, now,she thought.Right now. It was flash and burn when he plunged inside her, the glorious shock of being taken. She could see his eyes, watching her, even as she flew over the crest. Over it and into a storm of speed and heat.

With me, she managed. Come with me.

When his lips crushed down on hers, and the storm reached its peak, she felt him fly with her. Breathless, with her system starting its long slide back, she blinked up at the dark sky window over the bed. He lay over her, his weight pressing hers into the mattress, his heart drumming with hers. She felt wonderfully sleepy again, as she imagined Galahad might if he came across an unexpected bowl of cream and gorged himself.

Guess you never know where youll find the fun.

His lips brushed her hair, then he shifted, drawing her back against him again. I do.

Snuggled against him, she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

When she woke, Roarke was in the sitting area of the bedroom, scanning the morning reports as was his habit. She smelled coffee, but headed in to shower first. When she stepped out of the shower, the scent struck her again. Sniffing like a hound she turned and saw a thick mug of it sitting on the counter by the sink. It made her smile, and go a little soft inside just as she had as shed drifted into sleep. She took the first glorious hit of coffee naked and dripping, then left it to use the drying tube and pull on a robe. Carrying the mug with her, she came out, went directly to him. Bending down, she gave him a kiss nearly as strong as the coffee.

Thanks.

Youre welcome. I did consider joining you and getting your blood moving in a different manner, but Im already dressed. Still looking at Eve, Roarke shot out a finger to his left, and warned Galahad as the cat tried to belly his way toward a bowl of berries. You look fairly well rested.

Sleepy sex then six solid. Not shabby.

Said with a smug smile, just to finish off your alliteration.

Hah. Youre a sharp, sexy son of a bitch. See, I finish my own alliterations.

He had to laugh. Now that you have, sit and have some breakfast, and Ill tell you what I learned of your top accountants from a business associate.

What associate? She lowered the coffee shed started to drink. When?

You wouldnt know him, and shortly ago.

Tell me while I get dressed.

Eat.

She heaved a sigh, but dropped down and scooped some of the berries into a smaller bowl. Spill.

Jacob Sloan founded the firm with Carl Myers, the father of the current Carl Myers on the letterhead. Sloan has a very small handful of accounts he continues to oversee personally. He does, however,according to my source, take a very active part in the running of the firm.

His ball, he wants to watch where it bounces.

Id say so, yes. Myers handles domestic, corporate, and individualas did his fathermore of the very top individual accounts. Robert Krauswho was made partner about a decade agoheads up the legal department, and oversees some of the cream of the foreign and international.

Roarke nudged a bowl of what looked suspiciously like flakes of tree bark toward her.

Does he, your associate, know how active any or all of them are in the day-to-day?

He tells me very. While they are a layered and multifaceted firm with various departments, department heads, and so forth, they hold a weekly partners meetingthat would be only the three of thema daily briefing, and there are quarterly account reports and employee evals, which each partner is copied on. Very hands on.

And if so, difficult for one to slip something shaky by the other two.

It would seem, but difficult isnt impossible or even improbable.

Sloans the top dog, Eve muttered. Probably the hardest for an account exec to get to, one-on-one. And the one whod make the most sense to try to seek out if you hit on something that seemed off. At least if you believed he wasnt in on it.

And if you did, or werent sure, a reason to try to gather as many facts and as much evidence as possible before you went to the authorities.

Yeah, yeah. She ate some of the tree bark without thinking about it. Bio data I got on Sloan is that self-made stuff. Worked his way up, took risks, beat his own drum, built his firm and rep brick by brick. One marriageand she has some family dough and prestigeone male offspring, conservative bent. Got a second home in the Caymans.

Makes excellent sense, tax-wise, Roarke said. And a good way to shelter income. Hed know all the ins and outs there.

Copperfield handled foreign accounts. Might be she stumbled on something he was into. Guy founds a firm that takes on a big shine over the years, puts all that time and effort into it, hed have a lot of pride in itand a lot at stake.

She pushed up. Well, Im going to go see what I think of him. Leaning over, she kissed him. If I need help interpreting some of the numbers, are you up for it?

I could be.

Good to know. Later.

She had Peabody and McNab meet her in the lobby of the building that housed the accounting firm. As ordered, four uniforms with bankers boxes for transporting items were already in place. McNab wore a coat that looked as if it had been used as a canvas for fingerpainting by a hyperactive toddler.

Couldnt you just try to look like a cop?

He only grinned. We get up there, Ill wear a really stern expression.

Yeah, thatll make a difference.

She strode across the lobby, flashed her badge and the warrant at Security. He was already wearing a stern expression, and kept it in place as he scanned IDs and paperwork.

My orders are to have you escorted up.

See these? Eve tapped both badge and warrant. These override your orders. You want to hitch onto the elevator with us, no problem. But were going up now.

He signaled quickly to another guard, then fell in step behind Eve as she crossed to the elevators. They rode up in silence. When the doors opened there were two suits, one of each gender, waiting.

Identification and authority, please. The woman spoke snippily, then studied the three badges and the warrant. These appear to be in order. My associate and I will accompany you to Ms. Copperfields office.

Suit yourself.

Mr. Kraus is on his way. If youll just wait

Did you just read this? Eve lifted the warrant again. It doesnt require me to wait.

Simply courtesy

You should have thought about courtesy before you held my investigation hostage for more than twenty-four hours. Eve headed off in the direction she and Peabody had taken the day before.

Privacy matters, the woman began as she quickened her pace to match Eves stride.

Yeah, so does murder. You bogged me up. Kraus wants to talk to me, he can talk while were getting the files and electronics. She swung into Natalies office. This warrant authorizes me to confiscate any and all data, disc, and hard copy, any and all files, notes, communications, personal propertyhell, lets cut it down. Im authorized to take everything inside this room. Lets load it up, she said to Peabody and McNab.

Our client files are highly sensitive.

In a flash, Eve rounded on her. You know what else is sensitive? The human body. You want to see what was done to Natalie Copperfields? Eve made a move to reach into her file bag.

No, I dont. And were very distressed about what happened to Ms. Copperfield and Mr. Byson. Were very sympathetic to their families.

Yeah, I slapped up against your distress and sympathy a few times yesterday. Eve pulled open a desk drawer.

Lieutenant Dallas.

The man who entered was well turned-out, middle fifties in a stone-gray suit and blinding white shirt. He had a prominent nose and dark eyes in a strong face with an olive complexion. His hair was ink black, brushed back in waves that made wings out of the silver hed either let come into his temples or had put there for effect. She recognized him from the ID shot shed accessed as Robert Kraus.

Mr. Kraus.

I wonder if I could impose on you for a short time. If your associates could continue to deal with this business, my partners and I would like to speak with you in our conference room.

Weve got Bysons office to do next.

He looked just a little pained, but nodded. Understood. Well try not to keep you long.

Eve turned to Peabody. Everything. Boxed and labeled. Uniforms to transport if Im not back before youre done. Ill find you.

First let me apologize for the delay, Kraus began as he gestured Eve into the corridor. Ethically and legally were obliged to protect our clients.

Ethically and legally Im obliged to protect the rights of the victims.

Understood. He walked past the bank of office elevators to a private car. I knew both Natalie and Bick, and they had both my professional and personal respect. Kraus to sixty-five, he said into the speaker.

Did either of them speak with you about a potential problem, personal or professional?

No. But it would have been highly unusual for either of them to do so, certainly if it was personal. If there was a problem or question with one of their accounts, they would have gone to their department head, whoif necessarywould have reported to me or one of the other partners. Certainly, the partners would expect a report or memo on such a circumstance, even if it was resolved.

And did you receive such a report or memo?

No, I did not. Im puzzled why you believe or suspect that what happened to them has anything to do with Sloan, Myers, and Kraus.

I havent told you what I believe or suspect, Eve said evenly. Investigating all areas of their lives, their movements, their communications, is standard and routine.

Of course.

The car stopped, and once again he gestured Eve ahead of him. Here was the power center, she realized. As was so often the case, powerlike heatrose to the top. A wall of glass with a pale gold sheen let in the city with a gilded light that made statements of industry and wealth. Plush carpeting of deep red was bordered with dark, thick wood. There was no reception area here, no waiting alcove. Eve imagined any client worthy of this floor would never be expected to check in or cool heels. Instead there was a seating area of lush sofas, thick tables, obviously arranged for informal or personal chats. It boasted a small, stylish bar where she assumed the tony clients could request their drink of choice. Space and silence were the watchwords here. Office doors were few and distant, and all were dominated by an inner wall of that golden glass. Kraus escorted her over to the wall, subtly waving a hand in front of a small security eye. Glass whisked open to reveal the large conference room behind it. With the city rising behind them, the other two partners sat at a mile-long table. The younger, Carl Myers, rose. His black suit was softened by a thin silver chalk stripe. There was a black mourning band around the left sleeve. His hair was a wavy, medium brown brushed high off his forehead. His eyes, a soft hazel, met Eves directly as he came around the table and extended his hand.

Lieutenant Dallas, Im Carl Myers. Were sorry to meet you under such tragic circumstances.

I meet most people under tragic circumstances.

Of course. He never missed a beat. Handsome, fit, he gestured toward the head of the table where Jacob Sloan sat. Please, have a seat. Is there anything we can get for you?

No, thanks.

Jacob Sloan, Lieutenant Dallas.

Roarkes cop.

It was a term she was used to now, even when it was said with a hint of derision. Still, she tapped the badge shed hooked on her belt. This makes me the NYPSDs cop.

He acknowledged that with a faint lift of silver eyebrows. He struck her as honed, face and body, as though he whittled himself down to sheer power. His eyes were stone gray, his suit stark black. Like his face, his body, his hands were thin but with a look of steely strength. He didnt offer one to Eve.

You, as a representative of the police department, are infringing on the rights of our clients.

Somebody really infringed the hell out of the rights of Natalie Copperfield and Bick Byson.

His mouth tightened, but his eyes never wavered. This firm takes both of those difficult circumstances very seriously. The death of two of our employees

Murder, Eve corrected.

As you say, he agreed with a nod. The murder of two of our employees is shocking and tragic, and we will cooperate with your investigation to the letter of the law.

Not much choice there, Mr. Sloan. How about the spirit of it?

Please, let me get you some coffee, Myers began.

I dont want any coffee.

The spirit of the law is subjective, isnt it? Sloan continued. Your concept of it may very well veer from mine, and certainly is bound to veer from our clientswho expect, who demand, that we protect their privacy. The circumstances of this terrible thing will reverberate throughout this firm. The concern that sensitive financial data will be viewed by eyes not cleared by this firm to do so will distress our clients. Im sure as the wife of a powerful, influential, and wealthy man, you understand that.

First, Im not here as anyones wife but as the primary investigator of a double murder. Second, the distress of your clients, whoever they may be, isnt a priority for me.

Youre a sarcastic, difficult woman.

Having a couple of dead bodies on my hands that were beaten, tortured, and strangled just doesnt bring out my sunny side.

Lieutenant. Myers spread his hands. We understand completely that you have a responsibility to fulfill. As we do. And believe me, everyone here wants those responsible for what happened to Natalie and Bick caught and punished. Our concerns on a secondary front are for our clients who trust and depend on us. There are peoplecompetitors, if you willbusiness adversaries, ex-spouses, the media, who would go to considerable lengths to learn the contents of the files youre confiscating today.

Are you insinuating Id be open to a bribe by one of these parties to pass on that information?

No, no, not at all. But others who lack your integrity may be tempted.

Any and all wholl have access to the information in those files will be hand-picked by me or my commander. You want reassurance that the data will remain secure, you have it. On my word. Unless such information is determined to be the motive behind or connected to the murders of Copperfield and Byson. Thats the best you get.

She waited a beat. Since were all here, lets clear up some business. Ill need your whereabouts for the night of the murders. Midnight to fourA.M.

Sloan laid his hands on the table in front of him. You consider us suspects?

Im a cynical so-and-so. Your whereabouts, Mr. Sloan.

He drew breath through his nose, expelled it. Until approximately twelve-thirty, my wife and I were entertaining our grandson and his friend. At that time, they left our home and my wife and I retired. I remained home with my wife until the following morning when I left for the office. At seven-thirty.

Names, please? Grandson and his friend.

His name is mine. He was named for me. His friend is Rochelle DeLay.

Thank you. Mr. Myers?

I was entertaining out-of-town clientsMr. and Mrs. Helbringer from Frankfurt, their son and daughter-in-lawuntil sometime after oneA.M. We were at the Rainbow Room. He smiled wanly. And, naturally, I have the receipts. My wife and I returned home, went to bed just before two, I believe. I left for work the next day about eight-thirty.

And how can I contact your clients?

Oh, God. He pushed a hand through his hair. I suppose you must. Theyre staying at the Palace. Your husbands, I believe.

Small world. And Mr. Kraus.

Also entertaining clients with my wife, in my home. Madeline Bullock, and her son Winfield Chase, of the Bullock Foundation. They were our guests for a couple of days while they were in New York. We had dinner and played cards. Until about midnight, I believe.

Ill need to contact them.

Theyre traveling. I believe theyre making a stop or two on their way back to London, where the Foundation is based.

So, shed track them down.

Mr. Kraus has stated that neither of the victims approached him with any questions or any problems pertaining to their jobs, or their personal lives. Did they approach either of you?

No. Sloan said it flatly.

I spoke with Bick a few days before this happened, Myers began. Regarding the execution of a trust fund for a clients new grandchild. He never mentioned a problem.

Thank you. It may be necessary for me to speak with all of you again, and will certainly be necessary for me to interview the supervisors and associates of the victims in this matter.

Gentlemen, would you excuse us. Sloan lifted a hand. Id like a word with Lieutenant Dallas in private.

Jacob, Kraus began.

I dont need legal counsel, for Gods sake, Robert. Leave us alone.

When they were, Sloan pushed away from the table, walked to the wall of glass. I liked that girl.

Excuse me?

Natalie. I liked her. Fresh, bright, had a spark in her. She was friendly with my grandson. Friendly, Sloan repeated as he turned. They worked in the same department. Her department head was about to put her up for promotion. She would have gotten it. I spoke with her parents this morning. You think theres no compassion here? No sympathy? Theres more.

Those thin hands fisted. Theres rage. This firm is a home to me. I built it. Someone came into my home and killed two of my people. I want you to find the bastard. But if, in the course of your investigation, confidential data regarding clients of this firm leaks, Ill have your job.

Then we understand each other, Mr. Sloan. As long as you understand that if, during the course of my investigation, I learn that you had any partdirectly, indirectlyin those murders, Ill have you in a cage.

He crossed to her, and this time, held out his hand. Then we have a perfect understanding.

6

EVE FOUND PEABODY AND THE REST OF THEteam finishing up in Bysons office.

McNab, I want you to go with the officers to transport all these items to Central. I want you with the boxes and their contents every step of the way. You personally log them in. And lock them upconference room five. Ive cleared that with the commander. Take the electronics directly to Feeney.

Yes, sir.

Those electronics are to be logged a second time into EDD, with your code and with Feeneys.

He lifted his brows. We got national security in here?

Weve got our asses in there, so if you dont want yours in a sling, log and document every step. Peabody, you and I are going to get some statements from associates. You take this department, and Bysons people. Do another round with his supervisor. Ill take Copperfields.

She started out. Every step of the way, McNab, she repeated, then took the elevator to Natalies department. She knew just where she wanted to start.

I need to speak with Jacob Sloan, the grandson.

This time around the receptionist didnt hesitate, but simply beeped an interoffice link. Jake? A Lieutenant Dallas would like to speak with you. Of course.

Third door, left, Eve was told. Excuse me? Would youdo you know anything about a memorial?

No. Sorry. Im sure the family will make an announcement.

She followed the direction and found Jake Sloan waiting just outside his office door. He was built like his grandfather, but youth made him lanky. His hair was a dark blond, pulled back in a fat little tail at the nape of his neck. His eyes were a bleak sea foam.

Youre the one whos in charge of Natalie and Bicks murders. Investigating their murders, I mean. Im Jake Sloan.

Id like to speak to you. Privately.

Yeah, come on in. You want something? he asked as he closed the door behind her.

No, thanks.

I cant settle. He paced around a small office with posters in geometric shapes and primary colors on the walls. There were toys on his deskor what she thought of as toys, in any case. A bright red squeeze ball mocked up like a devil with horns, a cartoon dog on a fat spring, a curly tube that rocked on a string and changed colors with the movements. He walked to a tiny refreshment area and pulled a bottle of water from a minifriggie.

I almost didnt come in today, he told Eve. But I couldnt stand the idea of staying home. Staying alone.

You and Natalie knew each other well.

We were pals. His smile was shaky and brief. Had lunch together a couple days a week maybe, with Bick if he could make it. Gossip in the break room, hang out. Wed go out together a couple of times a month, usually. Nat and Bick, me and whatever girl I was seeing. One girl the last six months.

He dropped down in his chair. Im rambling. You dont care about any of that.

Actually, I do. Do you know anyone whod want to hurt Natalie?

No. She saw the gleam of tears before he turned his head to stare hard at the image of a blue circle inside a red triangle framed on the wall. People liked Nat. I dont understand how this could happen. Her and Bick. Both of them. I keep thinking its going to be some awful mistake and shell poke her head in the door and say, Skinny latte?

He turned back, tried that smile again. Wed get lattes in the break room.

Were you and Natalie ever involved romantically, sexually?

Oh, jeez, no. It wasnt like that. Spots of color rode on his cheeks now. Sorry, its kind of like thinking about nailing my sister, you know? We just hit it off, day one. Friends, like wed known each other already. And I dont guess either of us were what the other was looking for that way. Nat, she was looking for Bick. They were, like, fated, you know? You could just see it. God.

He propped his elbows on the desk, lowered his head to his hands. It just makes me sick to think what happened to them.

Did she say anything to you about any concerns, any problems? Since you were close, would she have told you if something was bothering her?

Id have thought she would, but she didnt. And something was.

Eve zeroed in. How do you know?

Because I knew her. I could see it. But she wouldnt talk about it. Said she was handling it, not to worry. I teased her that she was getting wedding jitters, going to do a runaway bride, and she played along. But you know, that wasnt it. He shook his head. She was anxious about the details of the wedding, but not getting married, if you get what I mean.

So what was it?

I think it was an account. I think she was having trouble with one of her accounts.

Why?

Worked with her door locked a lot the last couple weeks. That wasnt Nat.

Any idea which account?

He shook his head again. I didnt push. All of us have at least a couple of accounts that we cant discuss with other people in the department. I guess I thought she was losing a big client and trying to put out the fire. Happens.

He looked away again, back to the blue circle inside the red triangle. We were all supposed to go out this Saturday. The four of us. I dont know how they could be dead.

There was a knock, then the door opened. Jake. Oh, Im sorry. I didnt mean to interrupt.

Dad. Jake pushed to his feet. Ah, this is Lieutenant Dallas, with the police. My father, Randall Sloan.

Lieutenant. Randall took her hand, held it firm. Youre here about Natalie and Bick. Were all in&I guess were in a daze.

You knew them.

Yes, very well. Its such a shock, such a loss. Ill come back later, Jake. I just wanted to see how you were.

Its all right, Eve told him. Im about done. She flipped through her memory of the pecking order. Youre a vice president of the firm.

Thats right.

But not a partner, Eve thought, despite his expensive suit, his glossy looks. As such, did you have much contact with either victim?

Not much, not at the office. Of course, Nat and Bick were friends of my sons, so I knew them better outside the office than most of our account execs. Randall moved to his son, laid a hand on Jakes shoulder. They were a lovely couple.

Did either of them express any concerns to you, inside or outside the office?

Why, no. Randalls brow furrowed. They were both excellent at their work, and happyas far as I knowin their personal lives.

I need to askits routineabout your whereabouts on the night of the murders.

I was entertaining clients. Sasha Zinka and Lola Warfield. We had cocktails and dinner at Enchantment downtown, then went on to Club One to hear some jazz.

What time did you pack it in for the night?

It must have been close to two when we left the club. We shared a cab uptown, I dropped them off. I cant be sure, but I think it was nearly three when I got home.

Thanks.

My girlfriend and I were at Popsmy grandfathers, Jake said when Eve looked at him. I guess we left there around midnight, twelve-thirty. Went to my place from there. She stayed over.

Appreciate the time. Eve got to her feet. If I have any more questions, Ill be in touch.

Eve went from office to office, interrupting meetings and link calls, wading through tears and anxiety. Everyone liked Nat and Bick, nobody knew of any problems. She got a little more out of the account assistant Natalie had shared with two other execs. She found Sarajane Bloomdale in the break room, sniffling over a cup of tea that smelled like wet moss. She was a tiny woman with a short black balloon of hair that cut across her eyebrows in thick, ruler-straight bangs. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her nose pink.

Been out for a couple days, Sarajane told Eve. Caught a head cold. Sucks, you know? Mostly, I was sleeping it off, and then yesterday Maizeshes one of the other assistantsshe called me. Hysterical, crying. She told me. I didnt believe her. I kept saying, Thats justbullshit, Maize. I kept saying that, and she kept saying how its true, theyre dead. And Id say

I get it. How long did you work with Natalie?

About two years. She was great. Didnt expect me to run around doing all the grunt work likesome.Theyll run your feet off around here. But Natalie was great. Organized, you know? You didnt have to forever find where she forgot she put something. And shed remember stuff like your birthday, or just bring in pastries now and then. And when I broke up with my boyfriend a couple months ago, she took me out to lunch.

Was she working on anything specific the last couple weeks? Did she make any unusual requests?

Nothing out of the usual. She was working on something, locked her door a lot lately. Sarajane glanced around Eve, checking the doorway. I sort of figured she was doing wedding stuff, Sarajane whispered. Were not supposed to do personal business on company time, but, you know, your wedding and all.

How about transmissions made through you, correspondence she asked you to send?

Just the routine stuff. But you know, she logged back in after hours a couple times lately. I happened to notice when I checked her daily calendar on her office unit. Just noticed the log-in. I guess I said something to her about it. Like I said, Gee, Natalie, your nose is going to fall off if you keep it to the grindstone. And she looked kinda funny about it and asked if I wouldnt mention it to anybody. She was just catching up on some work.

Did you mention it to anyone?

I mightve. Just in passing.

To?

I dunno. Maybe to Maize, or to Ricko down in Legal. Were kind of going out, me and Ricko. I mightve said how she was working toohard and it was too bad, cause it was making her tired. I could tell. And she should relax more with her guy. And watch out for that piranha who worked with him.

Which piranha would that be?

Lilah Grove. Quinnshes an assistant down thereshe says Ms. Groves flirting with Mr. Byson every chance, asking him to come into her office and help her out,discussclients over coffee or lunch.

Sarajane managed an expression between a scowl and a sneer. Got her sights on him, you know? Guys can fall for that crap. I even told Natalie about it. She was my boss, right? So I told her, but she just laughed it off.

Okay. Do you know if Natalie made any appointments to talk to one of the brass around here? If she intended to have a meeting with any of them?

Didnt ask me to set anything up. Um, you cops have mostly taken all my work stuff. I dont know what Im supposed to do.

Couldnt tell you.

Eve finished up with Cara Greene, stepping to the office doorway just as the woman was popping a tiny blue pill.

Blocker, she said. Vicious headache. Its a completely horrible day.

Do you know why Natalie logged back into the office unit after working hours?

No. Cara frowned. We all work late, and this time of year weve revved up into tax season. But&Ive certainly known Natalie to work late, to stay at her desk for a couple of hours after end of business. And we wont even talk about the four weeks before April fifteen when most of us just live here. But it wasnt her usual routine to go then come back.

Do you want to sit? I need to sit. Im not feeling very well. She lowered to a chair. Fielding frantic or angry calls from clients abouttheir accounts being pawed over by the police is very unpleasant. Trying to play mother to the staff here when they come by to cry on my shoulder about Natalie, or allay their fears that something might happen to them. And trying to think, to think if youre right and this horrible thing has anything to do with her work, what I missed. What I should know.

And nothing comes to mind.

Nothing does. I have to think it was some sort of personal business. Someone who wanted to hurt them, was jealous or angry. I dont know.

Was there jealousy here in the office?

A sense of competition, certainly. And certainly not everyone is best friends. But I honestly cant think of anyone who held a grudge or genuinely bad thoughts about Natalie.

Do you know Lilah Grove?

The Femme Fatale of Individual Accounts. Caras lips curved in a little smile. And, yes, Ive heard the gossip that she was overly friendly with Bick. It didnt worry Natalie, and I never heard anything about Lilah and Natalie arguing or even having strong words.

Maybe they saved them for end of business, Eve thought as she went down to meet Peabody.

Did you get a statement from a Lilah Grove?

What is this, a sixth sense thing? Peabody demanded. She was the first I was going to brief you on.

Departments sex queen. Hit on Byson. Whats your take on her?

A little hard, with a very sharp edge. Vain, ambitious. Likes to flaunt both. Claimed the flirtation was mutual and harmless and expressed disgust and annoyanceboth seemed falsethat anyone in her department of the firm would gossip about her that way. Watered up a few times when talking about the vics, but never smeared her enhancementswhich appear to be expertly applied and really pricey. She wears Do Me.

What?

Its perfume. The real thing, not the off-brand or the cheaper eau de whatever. I like to go in and get sprayed with it when I troll the higher-end department stores.

Youre the one?

The one what?

The one person in the known universe who likes to get sprayed by those spritz guerrillas.

Peabody stiffened her shoulders, lifted her head high. We are more than one. We are a small, yet sweet-smelling army.

Yeah, I bet Do Me smells like a sweet, sunny meadow. Im going to do a quick follow-up with Grove before we head back.

Second office, right.

Ill do it solo. Check in with McNab.

Yes, sir. And, Dallas? Peabodys smile was sly. When I wear Do me, he does. She strolled off, whistling.

Asked for that one, Eve mumbled. The door to the office was open. Eve saw a blonde with long, sleek waves, tipped back in a caramel-colored leather chair, examining her manicure as she talked on a headset. There were flowers in the office, and a chrome coat rack held a long red coat and white scarf. The coffee mug on the desk was also red with a flashy white L scripted on it. The blonde wore a blue suit with a frill of lace in the V in lieu of a blouse. The eyes that flicked to Eve were a bold cat green. Hang on. Can I help you?

Eve held up her badge, and Lilah cast her eyes to the ceiling. Im very sorry, but Im going to have to get back to you. Ill have that information for you before two oclock. Absolutely. Bye.

She pulled off the headset, laid it on the desk. Ive already talked to one of you.

Now you can talk to me. Lieutenant Dallas.

At least Im going up the ladder. Look, Im sorry about Bick and Natalie. Its an awful shock for everyone who knew them. But Ive got work.

Funny, so do I. You and Bick have something going on the side?

Well, youre certainly more direct than the other detective I spoke with. Just a little office flirtation. Harmless.

And out of the office?

She shrugged, a careless and fluid gesture. Didnt get that far. Maybe with a little more time.

No problem poaching, then.

Smiling, Lilah took another look at her nails. He wasnt married yet.

Whats the problem, Lilah? Cant get a man of your own?

Eve saw it, a flash of temperhot and sharp. Anyone I want.

Except Bick.

Youre a bitchy one, arent you?

You bet. Why Bick?

He was great to look at, going places, terrific body. Looked to me like hed be good in the sack. We mightve made a good team, in and out of it.

Must have pissed you off he wasnt biting.

He didnt want to bang me, that was his problem, and his loss. If you think I killed him and his little sweetheart because of that, you should check with your detective. Ive got two alibis. Twins. Six-two, two-twenty, and dumb as posts. I wore both of them out, but it took me until after three in the morning.

What was Bicks top account?

Wendall James, LLC, she said without a seconds hesitation.

And who gets that account now that hes dead?

Lilah angled her head. Officially? It hasnt been decided. Unofficially? Ill make sure I do. I dont have to kill for accounts, honey. I just have to be good at what I do.

I bet you are, Eve said, and leaving it at that went back to join Peabody downstairs.

Shes what my granny calls a tough cookie.

I dont get that. Eve whipped away from the curb and headed back to Central. If a cookies tough, you throw it away. Shes the type that knows how to stick.

It just means&never mind. You think shes in it?

Could be. But that kind doesnt have to kill to get what she wants. Shed use her brains, her sex, cheat, maybe steal. She could seduce someone else into doing her dirty work, but whats the point here? Bysons out of the picture, maybe she cops some of his accounts, gets promoted quicker. But why Copperfield? And she was primary target. What did you get on the alibis?

Okay, on Jake Sloan its DeLay, Rochelle. Twenty-five, single, works in Catering at the Palace.

Shes one of Roarkes?

Well, sort of. Her fathers DeLay, hot-shot head chef at the Palace. Shes been employed there for about two years. No criminal.

Eve hung a left. Well drop by, confirm the alibi face-to-face. Next?

On Randall Sloan. Sasha Zinka and Lola Warfield. Forty-eight and forty-two respectively. Married for twelve years. Big moneygenerational money on Zinka. Theyre Femme.

Which is?

Extreme high-end enhancements. The company was founded by Zinkas great-grandfather, and remains one of the few independent companies of its size and scope. They own designer spas, where their products are used and sold. Few little brushes here and there on Zinka. Assault, property damage. Punched a cop.

Really?

No time served. Lots of big fines, a number of civil suits. Nothing in the last decade on her.

Youthful hijinks. Got a temper.

More big money on Krauss alibis, Madeline Bullock and Winfield Chase. Mother and son. Bullock, Sam, was her second husbandno offspring from there. Bullock, Sam, died at the age of one-twelve. Theyd been married five years. She was forty-six.

Isnt that romantic?

Heart-tugging. First husband was younger, a callow seventy-three to her twenty-two.

Wealthy?

Wasnot Sam Bullock wealthy, but well-stocked. Got eaten by a shark.

Step off.

Seriously. Scuba diving out in the Great Barrier Reef. He was eighty-eight. And this shark cruises along andchomp, chomp.

She gave Eve a thoughtful look. Ending as shark snacks is in my top-ten list of ways I dont want to go out. How about you?

It may rank as number one, now that Ive considered it a possibility. Any hint of foul play?

They werent able to interview the shark, but it was put down as death by misadventure.

Okay.

While Bullock, the company, is varied, it started out primarily with pharmaceuticals. The Foundation, which the widow heads since her husbands death eight years ago, is a whopper, and annually disburses multiple millions to charities. Childrens health care is priority. Nothing criminal on the widow, sealed juvie on the son, who is now thirty-eight. No marriage or cohabs on record.

London-based, right?

Yep. They do have other homes, but none in the States. Mother and son share the same address. Hes VP of the Foundation.

Ought to be able to afford his own place.

Last from this: For Myers we have Karl and Elise Helbringer, Germany. Married thirty-five years, three offspring. Karl went into business with Elise when they were both in their twenties. Making boots, which led to shoes and skids and bags and all sorts of things. Including romance, apparently, as they married shortly afterward. Hit big in the fashion and the outdoorsy-type worlds and built a nice little German empire. So, as bootmakers, I wouldnt say theyre rolling in it, but stomping in it.

Boots.

Their foundation, and the original Helbringer is still their top seller. Youre wearing a pair right now.

Of boots.

Helbringer boots. Very distinctive in their simplicity. Anyway, nothing on them or their offspring.

Well check for corroboration when we get back to Central.

Eve pulled up in front of the grand front entrance of Roarkes Palace. The doorman started over immediately. Eve saw recognition and then resignation flicker into his eyes as she climbed out of the car.

Good morning, Lieutenant. Would you like me to have your vehicle parked?

What do you think?

I think you want it to stay exactly where it is.

There you go. She jogged up the steps and into the glossy marble, the elaborate and enormous flowers, the sparkling fountains. She wound her way under the waterfall of crystal chandeliers to the desk. When she saw another flicker of recognition on the face of one of the sleek, nattily uniformed desk clerks, she decided Roarke had called a staff meeting with her picture. Regardless, she took out her badge. I need to speak with Rochelle DeLay.

Certainly, Lieutenant. Ill contact her immediately. If youd care to have a seat.

At the gesture, Eve considered. Since everyone was being so cooperative, she could take the same page. Sure.

Eve took one of the high-backed velvet chairs arranged in the elegant jungle of flowers.

If my grannythe tough-cookie grannyever gets out here, Im going to take her to tea at the Palace. Peabody drew deep of the floral-scented air as she sat. I think shed get a charge out of it. Anyway, so while were waiting its a good time to talk about Maviss shower.

It couldnt possibly be.

Come on, Dallas. Were on serious countdown now. Anyway, I got the theme. Thinking its Mavis, and then with that chair you bought, I went with rainbow. I hit this party store on the way home last night and got all kinds of mag stuff.

Great. Go you.

Then theres the flowers. I figured on bopping by this place I know. But the thing is, um&I cant really afford to you know, pay.

Though shed been trying to tune Peabody out, the last hit a chord. Well, Jesus, Peabody, you dont have to pay. Youre not supposed to pay.

I want to help and everything, but

Not with the dough. Eve forced herself to focus and deal with it. Listen, youre right. There should be stuff. The more stuff, the more of the large charge Mavis gets. Youre willing to get the stuff, Ill pay for it.

Thats good, thats great. Um, I never asked about, like, a budget.

Eve just sighed. I guess the skys the freaking limit.

Yay. Its just completely ult. I mean, its a total event.

Put the squealy girl away, Eve said as she got to her feet. Be a cop.

Eve spotted the pretty young thing headed toward them. Willowy build in a streamlined, almost military-style suit. The leafy green shade suited the coffee-and-cream complexion, and the hairworn in a sleek updowas dense brown. Her lips curved in a polite, restrained welcome, but even that small smile didnt reach the melting chocolate eyes.

Lieutenant Dallas, and&

Peabody. Detective, Peabody told her.

Im Rochelle DeLay. You must be here about Natalie. Is it all right if we sit out here? My office is a little box of a thing, and currently loaded with supplies for a party.

This is fine.

I just talked to Jake. I wish hed go home. I dont think hes ready to be there, see everyone, not where he saw and talked to Nat almost every day.

You were friends.

We were. We got to be good friends when Jake and I started seeing each other. But Nat and Jake? She looked away a moment, as people did when their composure wavered. They were like family to each other.

It didnt bother you that the guy youre dating was so tight with another woman?

It might have if thered ever been anything romantic between them, or maybe it would have if it had been anyone but Nat. She was so into Bick, and I liked her so much. We had a lot of fun together, the four of us. We just clicked. I dont know what to do for Jake.

Ms. DeLay, Peabody said, sometimes women tell their women friends things they dont tell a man, no matter how close they are. Did Natalie say anything to you about being worried, concerned?

I cant think of anything. But&we were supposed to have lunch the day before she&the day before. She called and told me she wasnt feeling very well, was staying home from work, just going to stay in, catch up with things. Chill. I was busy. I was busy, Rochelle repeated in a voice that broke. So I was kind of relieved. And now, when I think back, she sounded, I dont know, a little shaky, maybe nervous. I didnt think about it at the time. I couldve gone over, taken her something to eat. Its what I do, but I didnt because I was busy. If there was something wrong, she might have told me. I keep thinking that.

Hindsights a choke chain, Eve told her. You need to let that go. Tell me where you were the night she and Bick died.

We had dinner at his grandparents. We played bridge afterward. Well, they played, she said with a weak smile. Theyre teaching me, and I blow at it. It was after midnight when we left, and we went back to Jakes. Were sort of cohabbingunofficially. Sliding into it, I guess you could say. I was in the East Ballroom.

Im sorry?

The next morning. I was in the East Ballroom helping to set up for a luncheon. Jake came in, came to find me. He was crying. Id never seen him cry before. And he told me. We sat on the floor, right on the floor in the ballroom.

7

EVE TOOK ONE LOOK AT THE BOXES COVERINGthe table in the conference room shed ordered and felt a headache coming on.

Okay, here comes the monkey work. Were going to go through the discs and hard copies, memo, memo books, appointment books, everything, going backfor nowtwo weeks. From the wit statements it was two weeks, ten days, when people started noticing something off with Copperfield, and just under two weeks when the transmission went from Copperfield to Byson that she had something she needed to show him.

Well get through the names, the noteseventually, Peabody said. But the accounts? We could probably use a numbers guy on this.

Probably could, Eve agreed. But for now, its you and me. Well look for repetition, a file or account she went back to repeatedly during the time frame. Any of them copied to her home unit, or any data she copied to Byson.

Eve glanced unhappily at the conference rooms AutoChef, knowing it wasnt loaded with her personal stash of coffee.

Any mention of meetings or appointments with the higher-ups, she continued. Appointments with reps of accounts.

Going to be awhile, Peabody commented. Maybe I should order in some sandwiches.

Whatever. Her assistant said she logged in after hours a couple times recently. Lets find what she accessed after business hours.

She turned as the door opened.

Anything? Baxter asked her.

Its looking like she found something off at work, was pursuing it on her own, and shared her concerns with her fiancé. Were digging there.

Want another shovel?

Eve dipped her hands into her pockets. Whats on your desk?

A few things, mostly leg and link work. Nothing the boy cant handle, he added, referring to his trainee, Trueheart. Look, the kidll let me know if he needs me on anything active. Ive got some personal time coming. I can take it to work this.

You work it, you work it on the clock. Anything of your own heats up, youre on that.

No problem.

When her communicator beeped, she glanced at the readout. Peabody, fill Baxter in. Its Whitneys office. I need to update him.

She was ordered up, and found Commander Whitney behind his desk. She thought he looked tired, maybe burdened was the better word. His big shoulders carried considerable weight. Gray was sprinkled generously through the dark hair that was closely cut around his wide, coffee-colored face. He watched her, saying nothing, as she ran through the movements and details of the investigation.

The data you confiscated is secured?

Yes, sir. Detectives Peabody and Baxter are starting the search. Captain Feeney is supervising the e-work, using Detective McNab.

Other avenues?

Sir?

Exploration of this being personal business. Jealous ex?

I havent eliminated the possibility, Commander, but nothing points to that. While everything points to this being a double murder motivated by something the female vic discovered at her place of employment.

He nodded. You understand the sensitivity of the data now in the possession of this department?

Yes, sir.

His eyes stayed on hers. Have you considered the sensitivity of you, personally, having access to that data?

Personally, Commander?

Youre married to a powerful businessman who has interests in many areas of industry and financeinterests that most certainly will be in competition or conflict with some of the parties whose data you now have in your possession.

Something hot formed a tiny ball in Eves belly. I have potential evidence in my possession.

Dont be naive, Dallas.

I never was. Im the primary investigator on two murders looking for evidence of motive and culpability. Im not looking, and have no interest in, inside information on my husbands business competition.

Theres concern that, should this data come into his hands, it might be used to his advantage against those competitors.

The hot little ball expanded. He doesnt need my help to compete in business. And he wouldnt walk over two dead bodies to make some extra bucks. Respectfully, sir though her tone had taken on an edge that had nothing to do with respect to imply otherwise is an insult to me and to him.

Its not a matter of a few extra dollars, but the potential of millions. Perhaps more than millions. And yes, its insulting. Its also necessary to be understood. If the information now at your disposal should beused in any way unrelated to your investigation, you, this office, this department, will be responsible.

My understanding of my responsibility to the victim, to the people of New York, and to this department is and always has been crystal. It wasnt a ball in her belly now, but a flood. Like lava. If you have any doubts of my understanding of that responsibility or my ability to fulfill it, youre not only obliged to remove me from this investigation, but you should be asking for my badge.

You want to be pissed, be pissed. Now, Lieutenant, go back to work.

She turned on her heel, struggling to keep that fury down, hold it in. But she didnt quite block all of it. She looked back as she yanked open the door. Im not Roarkes goddamn stooge, she snapped, and shut the door behind her. She hauled the temper with her back down to Homicide and into the conference room. One look at Eves face made whatever bright comment Peabody was about to utter wither and die.

Sir, she said instead, Baxters taking Bysons data. So far weve found nothing transferred to his data records from Copperfields.

We keep looking.

On the e-front, McNab reports that files have been deleted from Copperfields office unit.

Is Detective McNab now reporting to you? Was there a change in command during the last twenty minutes?

Knowing that tone, Peabody kept her own very even. Detective McNab believed we were together, sir, either here or in the field. As I understood you were with the commander, I took his report, and am now reporting same.

Im in EDD.

Baxter and Peabody exchanged eye rolls behind her back. And fortunately for their welfare, had instincts quick enough to have those eyes focused on the work when she spun around.

Nobody enters this room or approaches these files without my authority. Clear?

Yes, sir!

When the door was slammed, Peabody let out a long, whistling breath. Whitney put a really nasty bug up her butt.

Eve stormed into EDD and through to the comp lab to find McNab. He was hunkered over Copperfields office unit. A handful of other detectives or techs worked on various comps in the same area.

Youre to use a privacy cube at all times when working on this case.

Huh? What? He dragged off a headset.

This case is now flagged Blue. Privacy cube, verbal reports. Need-to-know basis.

Oooo-kay. He stepped back, just a little, as if he felt the heat pumping off her and was afraid hed get burned. Ive got some deletions. They were

Privacy cube, she snapped. Now.

Yes, sir. Its going to take me a few minutes to set it up.

Then get started. She stormed out, veered off, and swung into Feeneys office. He was sitting at his desk, machine-gunning on his keyboard while he hummed a tune. Every so often hed mutter, Almost got you, you little bastard.

Your detectives have trouble understanding direct orders, or the chain of command? she demanded. He cursed, glanced up. He saw what Peabody had seen on her face. Easing back, he jerked his chin at the door. Wanna shut that?

She slammed it. When Im primary, the men assigned to the team, whether theyre EDD or Homicide, report to me.

You got a complaint about one of my boys? They were all his boys to Feeney, regardless of their chromosomes. It caught her just before she spewed. What was she doing? Playing tattletale overnothingjust because she was pissed. Ive got a sensitive case, she began.

Yeah, I know about it. My boys report to me, and I logged in the electronics as you requested. So?

Big money sensitive. You figure Roarke would climb over my two vics, use that big money sensitive data to edge out a competitor? You figure hed use my investigation or any information I might share with him therein for personal gain?

What the fuck you talking about? McNab make some idiot comment?

No. Whitney made a direct statement.

Feeney pursed his lips, then blew out a breath. Then dragged his fingers through his wiry tangle of ginger and gray hair. I got some of that coffee left you gave me for Christmas. Want a hit?

No. No, she repeated and walked to his window. Goddamn it, Feeney. He wants to slap at me for something I did or didnt do on the job, something one of my squad did or didnt, thats okay. But to imply Roarke would use me, that Id permit it, thats over the line.

Have some almonds.

She only shook her head. Feeney dipped his fingers into the bowl of candied nuts on his desk. Want my take?

I guess I do. I come pushing in here when youre busy, I must need your take.

Then Ill give it to you. I expect some of those honchosand the lawyers who love themhave been stomping their feet, flapping their jaws. Complaining to the mayor, the chief. Mayor and chief give Whitney the word. Hes got to take the departmental line, give you the warning. Want my take on his personal line?

I guess I do.

Ive known him a long time. If he had any genuine concerns in this area, hed take you off the case. Period. By doing that, hed cover his ass. Instead, he gave you the word, and hes leaving his ass hanging out there.

Maybe.

Dallas? He waited until shed turned around. You got any worries about Roarke on this?

No. Goddamn no.

You think I do, or that any member of the team currently working the case has any worries?

The tightness in her chest eased a little. No. But Ive got to go to Roarke with thiseven if I dont share a single byte of data with him, I have to go to him with this. If you think I was pissed when I came in here, let me tell you, that was a sunny day at the beach.

He shoved the bowl of nuts in her direction, and for a moment there was a touch of amusement on his hangdog face. Marriage is a freaking minefield.

Fucking A. But she relaxed a little, enough to sit on the corner of his desk and pluck up a few nuts. Sorry.

Forget it. We go back a ways, too.

I dont know how much youve got on your plate, but if youve got room for more I could sure use you on this.

I can probably clear a space. Me, I like a full plate.

Thanks. All around.

With her temper defused, Eve headed back down to the conference room, where she found Peabody and Baxter deep into search mode and a mountainous pile of sandwiches. When she entered, Baxter kept his eyes on his screen, but Peabody risked a glance up. Obviously encouraged by what she saw on her partners face, she nodded toward the pile of food.

Figured some hoagies would keep us going through this.

Fine. Though her pissed level was down, so was her appetite. Eve culled out a pile of discs and took a comp unit. Moments later a mug of coffee appeared beside her elbow.

Ah, also figured youd want your own brew while were at this.

Thanks. I imagine you figured Id share that brew and loaded the AC on that assumption.

Would that be an incorrect assumption? Peabody smiled winningly.

My assumption would be youre already slurping it down.

Baxter slurps. I, however, sip delicately.

Eve took a breath. Listen. The commander wanted more than an update. He had some concernsor some jerk has concernsabout Roarke being privy to some of this data, through me. Then using same to outswing competitors.

No wonder you were ready to kick the first available ass, Peabody commented.

Well. Baxter paused long enough to scratch his cheek. Id guess Whitney said what he had to say, even knowing it was flammable bullshit. Must suck being brass.

The last of Eves temper simply dwindled away. Must. Lets dig down into this fucking morass and find some goddamn gold.

They dug for hours. Natalie Copperfields data files were organized and efficient, and gave them nothing.

McNab said there were deletions. Eve pushed back. Ive got what could be interpreted as lost time, or deletions in files. Little holes, if you look at them that way. You got a serious worker bee here.

Makes me feel like a slacker, Peabody agreed, then pokered up. Which, of course, Im not. Being a detective, and a dedicated member of the NYPSD trained by the best in the department.

Ass kisser, Baxter said with a grin.

I have three gold stars for ass kissing.

Thats all really fascinating, Eve said dryly. But my point is, Copperfield kept superior records of her work, of her time. And Im seeing gaps. A pattern of gaps going back about five, six months.

Ive got some of that, Peabody agreed. Could be just wedding planning. A little personal business leaked into the workplace. Happens to the best of us.

Maybe. And maybe its an account that was passed to her at that point. Those gaps start widening ten days before her death. About the time we believe she found something questionable.

If her killer deleted those client files altogether, Baxter began, he or she had access to her work unit, her data files. Doesnt strike me that a client would be able to access.

Could hack in by remote, or pay someone with the necessary skills to do so, Eve replied. Or it could be someone on the inside. Could be both. What were not finding in her files is evidence there was something her killer didnt want found there.

Her supervisor would know all her accounts, Peabody put in.

Yeah. Im going to go by, have another talk with her before I take this home. Peabody, I need all this data secured. Baxter, if you want to do a little leg work, you can check with the vics sister. See if Copperfield mentioned getting a new account within the last six months. It should be a big one.

Got that.

Check on Trueheart and your actives. If you need to put in extra time, run it through me. Ill clear it.

Appreciate it.

Peabody, if McNab has anything, I want a tag. Whenever, wherever. Im in the field.

The ferocity of the traffic reminded Eve of the time. The accounting firm would be closed for the day. She called up Cara Greenes home address from her memo book, then tried her on the link. At the transfer to voice mail, she left a message to be contacted ASAP. On theoff chance Greene was putting in some overtime, Eve tried the office link, and left the same message. No point in going by to bang on the door of an empty apartment, she decided. Shed wait for the callback, or hunt Greene down in the morning. Now she had to figure out the best approach with Roarke. Keeping her mouth shut just wasnt an option. Even if she wanted to play that game, hed sense something. The guy had senses like a frigging hawk. And evading would lead, unquestionably, to lying. Lying would put her in the wrong. Goddamn if she wanted to take the heat for this. Straight out was probably the best way, she decided. Let him blow, let him spew, and seethe over the insult. He was entitled. The problem was he was going to blow, spew, and seethe all over her. So shed take the high road, shed be the good wife and take the lumps. Then hed have to apologize, maybe even grovel a little. How bad could that be? She was feeling fairly steady about the entire matter when she drove through the gates of home. Considering various openings, she jogged through the bitter cold and into the warmth. The gilded light, the lightly spiced scent of the air were spoiled momentarily by the looming figure in black that was Summerset.

I didnt realize you were taking a few days off, he began as the cat left its squat at his side to prance toward Eve.

What are you talking about?

As youve returned home unbloodied, without any of your clothing torn, I assume youve spent the day in some leisurely pursuit.

Days not over yet. She tossed her coat over the newel post. I could end it pursuing your bony ass, but youd be the one bloodied and torn.

She picked up the pudgy cat and hauled him with her up the stairs. He purred like a jet copter as she idly scratched his ears, then dumpinghim on the sofa in the bedroom, she checked Roarkes whereabouts on the house scanner.

Where is Roarke?

Roarke has not yet returned to the house this evening.

Bought some time, she decided, and stripped off her clothes to change into workout gear. The best way to clear her mind and tune up, she thought, was a good sweaty session in the gym. To avoid Summerset, she took the elevator down, then programmed a hill climb on the cardio machine. She did a hard twenty minutes until her quads felt the burn, then switched to a flat-out sprint. She was well into a series of upper-body reps on the weight machine when Roarke strolled in.

Long day? she managed, puffing out air.

A bit. He bent over, touched his lips to hers. Getting started or finishing up?

Finishing. Ive got enough in me for a spar if youre looking for a workout.

I had mine this morning. Im looking for a very large glass of wine and a meal.

She studied his face. Was a long day, then. Problems?

Irritations, mostly, and mostly eliminated. But now that Im thinking of it, I wouldnt mind a swim before that wine. If I had some company.

Sure. She picked up a towel, scrubbed it over her face. Get it over or put it off until he mellowed out? Tough to know, she thought, but it seemed wrong to let him mellow then hit him with a sucker punch.

Ah, theres this thing. To give herself another moment, she walked over, got a bottle of water from the minifriggie. The double murder Im investigating. The accounting firm element.

You got your warrant?

Yeah. Thats part of the thing.

The thing being?

She braced inside, as she might before diving into a very cold pool. Theres a concern at some levels regarding the sensitivity of the data on the files now in the possession of the NYPSD, and the primarybeing me, whos married to you.

Theres a question, on some levels, about your ability to handle sensitive data? His voice was perfectly pleasant, even amiable. And had her antennae quivering.

Theres a question, on some levels, about the ethics, I guess, of you having some close proximity to private financial information belonging to current or future business competitors. I want you to know that I

So the assumption, he interrupted smoothly, is that I would use my wife, and her investigations into a double torture murder, to not only learn the financial situation of competitorscurrent or futurebut would then use that information to my own gain? Do I have that right?

Nutshelling. Listen, Roarke

I havent finished. He whipped the words out, one quick lash. Did it occur to any of theselevelsthat I dont need to use my wife or her investigation to beat bloody hell out of a competitor, in a business sense, should I choose to do so. And that I somehow managed to compete and succeed on my own before I met the primary on this case?

Shehatedwhen he usedmy wifein that tone. Like she was one of his fancy wrist units. Temper bubbled into her throat and was a very hard swallow down. I cant speak to what occurs or occurred there, but

Goddamn it, Eve. Do you think Id use you for fucking money?

Not for a single second. Look at me. Not for one single second.

Crawl over the bloody bodies, risk your reputation and my own, come to that, for an edge in some shagging deal?

I just said I didnt

I heard what you said, he snapped back and his eyes were lethal. But I see for some its once a thief. Ive worked side-by-side with the NYPSD, given it considerable time, taken considerable physical risks, and now they question my integrity over this? Over this? Well, fuck them. If they cant and wont trust you after all youve given them, or me, fuck them to hell and back. I want you to pass the case.

You wantwhoa, wait.

I want you to pass it, he repeated. Ill not have one byte of that bloodysensitivedata in my home, or in my wifes head, or anywhere I can be suspected of using it. Damned,goddamnedif Ill be accused somewhere down the line of using something like this over some deal I close over someone else. I bloody well wont have it.

Okay, lets just calm down a minute. She had to take a breath, then another, before her head stopped whirling. You cant ask me to hand over the investigation.

Thats precisely what Im asking. And if memory serves, Ive asked for very little when it comes to your work. You arent the only qualified investigator. Pass it, he demanded. And do it now. I wont be insulted this way. And bugger me if Im going to tolerate having my wife be the one who has to bring the insult to me because your superiors dont have the balls to do it themselves.

She stood stunned and speechless as he turned on his heel and strode out. 8

HIS ANGER HAD TEETH AND WAS GNAWING AThis own throat as he stormed up to his office, closed the doors. And he knew if he hadnt walked away that anger would have taken more than a bite of Eve. Her goddamn job, he thought. Bloody, buggering cops. Why in hell had he ever deluded himself into believing they could accept who and what he was? He was no innocent and never claimed to be one. Had he stolen? Frequently. Had he cheated? Most certainly. Had he used wit, wiles, and whatever came to hand to fight and claw his way out of the alley to where he was now? Goddamn bloody well right he had, and would do it all again, without remorse or regret. He didnt ask to be considered pure and saintly. Hed been a Dublin street rat with certain skills and specific ambitions, and had used one to achieve the other. And why not? Hed come from a man whod murdered in cold blood, and yes, hed done some of the same. But hed made himself into more, into better. Into other, in any case. And when hed fallen in love with a cop, with a woman hed respected on every possible level, hed given up a great deal. Every one of his businesses was legitimate now. He could be considered a shark in the business world, but he was a bloody law-abiding one. More, hed actually worked with the cops, the very element that had once been the enemy. Hed offered his resources to the department countless times. The fact that doing so amused, intrigued, and satisfied him didnt change the principle of the thing. Infuriating, insulting, unacceptable. With his hands jammed in his pockets, he stood at the window, glowering out at the sparkling lights of the city hed made his home. Hed made himself, he thought again. Hed carved out this life, and he loved this woman above everything else. To have anyone, anyone suspect he would use herthat she would allow herself to be usedwas enraging. Well, they could have someone else work themselves to the bone, labor into exhaustion to find their bloody murderer. And if they thought somewhere down the road they could tap him again to play expert consultant, civilian, they could shag a monkey. He heard the door open between his office and Eves, but didnt turn.

I said all I have to say on this, he told her. Its done.

Fine, you can just listen then. I dont blame you for being upset.

Upset?

I dont blame you for being murderously pissed off. I felt the same way.

Fine. Were in tune.

I dont guess we are. Roarke

If you think this is a tantrum or something I can be sweetened out of, youre wrong. Its a line. Weve reached my line in this, Eve. I expectyou to respect my stand on this matter. He turned now. I expect you to put me first, and thats all.

You get both of those. But youve got to hear me out. Line or no line, you cant just go around flinging orders at me.

It was a statement.

Screw this, Roarke. Just screw this. Her own anger was rising, but there was a layer of sick fear over it. Im pissed, youre pissed, and if this keeps up, were going to be seriously pissed at each other, maybe enough to cross some other line we cant come back over easily, when were the ones getting slapped by outside parties.

When has the department been an outside party to you?

I have to prove something to you now? And there was hurt, churning through the anger, and the sick fear. To you? What needs to be proven here? My loyalty? The pecking order of that loyalty?

Maybe it does. He angled his head, spoke coolly. I wonder where Ill come in that order.

Yeah, seriously pissed. But she took a deep breath before she lost what was left of her temper. Or worse, lost the fight to hold back the tears that were stinging the back of her eyes. Ive got things to say, goddamn it, and Im saying them. If when Im done, you want me to pass the investigation, its passed.

Something inside him clenched and released, but he only shrugged. Have your say, then.

You dont believe me, she said slowly. I can see it. You think, or wonder at least, if Im just snowing you so I win on this. And thats insulting, and Ive had enough insults for the day, damn it. So you listen. When someone kicks at you, they kick at me. Thats the way it is. And not just because Im yourwife,because Im not some stupid bimbo who takes orders from herhusband.

I dont believe the wordbimbocame out of my mouth.

It sounds like bimbo, occasionally, when you say wife.

Oh, bollocks to that.

And right back at you, ace. They slap at you, they slap at me because were a unit. Because I may not get all this being married crap right, but Ive damn well got that one nailed. So, believe me when I tell you the department knows just how I feel about this business.

Fine, then

Imnot finished, she spat out. Sweeten you up, what a crock. But you want some oil on the water? When I spewed this business out on Feeney, then out on Baxter and Peabody, they had the same take. That it was insulting bullshit. And Im damned, Roarke, if I want to put my tail between my legs and pass this ball. Not just for the victimsand they matter, they matter a hell of a lot to me now. But for my own pride, and for yours. Screw that, forours.Im not going to back off because the mayor or the chief or the commanderwhoeverneeds to cover their chicken-shit asses because some jerks are whining because youre just better and smarter and slicker then they are in the first damn place.

And Impissed! She kicked his desk. Pissed, pissed, pissed about being disrespected. Like Im some idiotfemalewhod compromise an investigation for her mans gain. Or that my man is some callous cheat who cant bury his competitors without breaking a sweat. Theyre not getting away with it. Were not going to let them shove us back from this. Were not going to let them put two innocent people who died because they were trying to do something right, howeverstupidly,in the backseat over fucking politics.

She kicked his desk again, and felt calmer for it. Youve done more than stand by me on the job. And you deserve better from the department. So Ill do more than stand by you, and if stepping back from this is what you need, thats what Ill do.

She caught her breath. Thats what Ill do, because if you dont know you come first, youre just stupid. But its not the way to stick it to the ones who deserve to have it stuck to them. Staying on it is, putting you on in an official capacity as consultant is. Finding the personor persons who killed those two people is. I want to close this case, and I want you with me when I do. But on this one, you get to decide.

She tunneled her fingers through her hair and realized she was exhausted. Your call.

He said nothing for a long, humming moment. Youd do this, pass this case, because I asked you?

No. Id do this, pass this case, because in these circumstances I figure youve got the right to ask me. I dont lift off when you say jump, ace, any more than you do for me. But when it matters, it matters. Is that what you want me to do?

It was, before you came in here. He crossed to her now, and took her face in his hands. It was, Im forced to admit, when I was near certain youd refuse, and given me a handy outlet where I could blame you for the whole mess of it. Then I could have worked off some of this mad with a good, bloody row with you. He kissed her brow, her nose, her lips. You didnt, so I guess that good, bloody row is out of the question.

Im always up for one.

Now he smiled. Hard to work up the energy for one when Im also forced to admit youre right. Actually, thinking about it, thats a considerable irritation. Everything you just said bulls-eyed the entire ugly situation. The victims deserve you, and Im damned if the department gets the satisfaction of having you toss this one back because of me. And damned again if Ill have fingers pointed at me as a cheat whod use his wife. Ive done plenty in my time to deserve finger-pointing, but not this.

Are we square?

He gave her shoulders a light rub before he stepped back. It seems we are. But the termwifeis not synonymous withbimbo.I love my wife very much. Ive only slept with bimbosoccasionally. In the past.

He was still seething mad though, she noted. However cool and collected he might seem, she knew him, and saw the black temper bubbling under the surface. She couldnt blame him. But there were otherways to work off a rage than a sweaty session in the gym, or a good, bloody row.

I still need that shower. She headed for the door, glancing over her shoulder on the way out. Wouldnt mind some company.

She ordered the jets on full, at a temperature of 101, and let the heat punch its way into her bones. With her eyes closed and the water pulsing over her head, the worst of the headache shed been carrying eased off. When arms came around her, the tension inside her body shifted to a different arena.

Sorry, she said with her eyes still closed. Youll have to get in line. Ive already got a guy scheduled for shower sex.

Hands slid up to cover her breasts; teeth nipped lightly into her shoulder.

Well, maybe I can squeeze you in.

She started to turn, but those hands held her in place while his mouth roamed over her neck and shoulders. Little bites while the steam began to rise. With an arm hooked around her waist, he flipped open the compartment in the glass block and let a river of fragrant soap pool into his hand. He slicked it over her breasts, torso, belly. Slow circles while the water pumped and pulsed. Everything inside her tightened into delicious knots that released only to snap taut again. The wet heat, the smooth hands teased all of her senses to the edge of nerves, drenching her in sensations. She lifted her arms, taking them back to wind around his neck, to open herself. Those lazy circles traveled down her again, slid slippery between her legs. Her body bowed, her breath escaping in a moan as he tipped her over the edge. She shuddered for him, shuddered and bucked against his busy hands, fueling his needs even as he sated hers. His own system began to churn,greed and want and lust and love so twisted together they created one mass of heat that spread from heat to heart to loins. A unit, he thought. Two lost souls, steeped in shadows, that had found each other. He shouldnt have forgotten, even in temper, the miracle of that. When he pulled her around to face him, her eyes were heavy, her face flushedand her lips slowly curved.

Oh, its you. I thought there was something familiar, but I wasnt sure. She reached down, took the hot, hard length of him in her hands. Yeah, I recognize this.

She kept those sleepy eyes open and on his when he pushed her back against the wet wall. While the jetting water thundered he took her mouth, took her taste and quivered with the thrill when her lips met his with equal passion. Then, gripping her hips, he plunged into her, swallowing her cries, her gasps, her moans, as he drove them both. Her fingers slid down him, dug in for purchase as shock and excitement ripped through her. There was nothing but the heat, the wet, the glorious hard body against her, in her. The pleasure shot her up so high she had to fight for breath to even moan his name. Then it wrung her out, made her weak, made her woozy. She felt him let go, felt him give himself to her as she went limp.

Ta cion agam ort. With his body warm and pressed to hers he murmured it. I love you,Eve thought, in Gaelic. Knowing he used it when it mattered most to him, she smiled.

Feeling relaxed and accommodating, she let him pick the meal and ended up eating some sort of lightly grilled fish with a side of spicy rice mixed with crispy vegetables. She might have preferred a burger and fries drenched in salt, but she couldnt complain. And the chilly glass of Italian white made it all go down smooth as silk.

Before we go any further, he began, I want to say more than feeling kicked, I felt Id been sucker punched by this. And it bruised.

Im sorry.

Hardly your fault. The fact is, I was equally furious with myself. I should have seen it coming.

Why?How?

A prominent accounting firm, with prominent clients. He moved his shoulders. There had to be some question that Id have access to the financial data of some competitors. And the ensuing uproar over it.

Hey. She stabbed out with her fork. Youre not going to take their side on this one. Thatll just piss me off all over again.

Im not, no. I think it was poorly handled. Still, I should have expected something along those lines, and been better prepared to deal with it.

They bitch-slapped both of us. Im not going to forget it.

Nor will I. Why dont you tell me about the progress of the investigation. If nothing else, itll make me feel weve given them a good poke in the eye.

Sure.

He listened while she brought him up to date.

So somebody accessed her files and deleted whatever it was she was looking into. A clean job, according to McNab. Theyre going to keep digging.

Smarter if theyd taken the units, as they did on the crime scenes.

Yeah, in hindsight. Im guessing the killer couldnt be sure wed pin it to an account and start looking there. And until I talk to her supervisor, I dont know that we will pin it to a specific account. When you take a scan of her office unit, even a hard look, you just see her tidy, organized files and data. The missing pieces only show up if youre looking for themthose specific times and dates.

Foreign accounts, he mused. It would be, most likely, a companyor individuals attached to itthat has interests here as well. Most likely directly here in New York. EDD hasnt yet determined if the access was remote or on site?

Not yet. My gut tells me on site. The killer hauled off their home units. If he had solid hacker skills, why not just delete the files from them? Or better, do that by remote before or after the killing? He hauled them away so he could get rid of them, ditch the data and dispose of the units. Not so easy to walk off with office equipment.

Good security?

Damn good. I dont think anyone could have wandered in after hours without it showing up on discs. And nothing has. He deleted the files during working hours. Maybe got the passcodes and deleted from another station inside the building, maybe got into her office while her assistant was busy elsewhere. With the delay getting the warrant to confiscate, there was time. The killer or an accessory is inside the firm.

He sipped a little wine. Did your first victim gain any new accounts in the last few weeks?

Thought of that, and no. Nothing new in the last couple that I can see, so theres no way to narrow it down from that route. If she flagged anything hinky, thats gone. Maybe one of the accounts suddenly didnt jibe, and she took a closer look. Could be the client recently started doing the shadowy stuff. Or she just happened to stumble across something because theyd gotten sloppy. Happens. But she didnt discuss a problem with an account to any of the higher-ups or with her assistant. Not that any of them is copping to, at any rate.

Just the fiancé. Roarke nodded. Because she trusted him completely.

I get that. But I dont believe she didnt at least mention something to one of the partners or her supervisor, her department head. She was meticulous. Youll see what I mean when you look at her files.

Ill take your word on that for now.

Eve set down her glass. I thought wed squared this, and youd step onto the teamat least when you had time for it.

For now, he repeated, Id rather wait to look at the files. By meticulous, you mean she kept everything in excellent order.

Eve struggled back her annoyance. That, yeah, but she was meticulous in the way she kept her office space, her apartment, her closet. She never had a single work eval that wasnt glowing. She had a good relationship with her department head, and apparently with everyone she worked with. She was tight pals with the grandson of one of the partners.

Romantic link?

No. It comes off as pals. Good, platonic pals. Grandson has a girlfriend, and the four of them hung. But she doesnt mention theres this problem to her pal.

Bloods thicker?

Maybe, maybe. She pushed away from the little table where theyd eaten. Its inconsistent with her type, her pathology. She was a team player, and she was a rule keeper. She took this to one of them, Roarke, and the one she took it to was the wrong choice.

She must have dealt with some clients directly.

In the office, or in theirsNew Yorkbased. Some travel, too, sure. But nothing out of the ordinary Ive found. No last-minute appointments worked in, according to her assistant. No last-minute travel to meet with a client or their representatives. If you look at her office, on the surface, its straight business as usual. Taking the home units without making it look like a bungled burglary was a mistake.

I dont know. He considered it. Simpler, as you said, to take the units than to stay there and fiddle with them. Especially since the killer had a second job to do. It could simply be confidence. Go ahead and look at her office files, Ive taken care of that. Covered the tracks.

Nobody ever covers them all the way. Okay, okay, present company excepted, she added when he lifted an eyebrow. If he was as good as you, and aslets saymeticuloushed have found a better way to do Copperfield and Byson.

Such as?

Arrange a meet, take them out together outside their apartments. You make it look like a mugging or a thrill kill. Rape the woman, or him, or both. Send the investigators mixed signals. I figure Im looking for someone focused on the taskeliminate the threat, remove the evidence. Thats straight-line thinking, leaving out the flourishes.

Perhaps the only way he could take lives was to block out all but the target. Reach the goal, dont consider the enormity of the action to get there.

I dont think so, or not completely. Yeah, okay, reaching the goal. But if hed needed to distance himself emotionally from the action, he wouldnt use strangulation. Its intimate. And it was face-to-face.

Narrowing her eyes, she brought the crime scenes, the bodies, back into her mind. He experienced the killings. You dont want an active part in it? You got the tape right there. You slap it over their mouths, over their nose, and you walk away. You dont have to see them suffer and die. But he looked right into their eyes as they did.

And this isnt what I need you for, she snapped. I can get into his head. Or I can get a profile from Mira, talk it through with her. I need a numbers man. I need a business man. Big business, big risks, big benefits. I need you to look at the data, analyze it in a way I cant.

And I will. But tonight Id prefer the generalities. I can take a look at her client list, give you a take on what I know that might not show on records or bios.

Why tonight?

He considered again. Easier to evade, but shed been straight with him and deserved the same. Im going to have my lawyers draft a contract of sorts which will prohibit me from using any of the data I may be privy to during the course of this investigation.

No.

It covers our respective asses. It will also prohibit you, or any member of the team, from revealing the name of the organization, corporation or company whose data I analyze. I can, quite easily, work with the figures only.

Frustration nearly blew out of the top of her head. This is a crock. Your words good enough.

For you, and thank you for it. But its simple enough to do, and its logical. Its very likely Im in competition, or certainly will be at some point, with some or all of the clients on your victims list. And at some point, while I can promise you I wouldnt use the data youve put in my hands

I dont want your damn promise! she exploded. Her fury over it was like a warm, comforting kiss. Then none of that between us. But, lets be practical. It could appear, or be argued that I have or will use it. It still could, come to that, but this shows good intent at least.

Its insulting to you.

Not if I offer itmore, insist on it. Which is exactly what Im doing. He knew how to calculate the odds, he thought. How to manipulate them. And how to win. I wont look at any of the data unless you agree to this provision. We can argue about it if you like, but thats my line. Ill have it taken care of, then well move forward.

Fine. Fine. If thats the way you want it. She had to fight back the urge to kick something again.

It is. Im happy to look at the client list.

She moved to her desk, pulled out a hard copy from her file bag. Look it over, think it over. Ive got some runs to do meanwhile.

And some sulking, he imagined. Ill be in my office, then.

She did sulk, but she worked while she was at it. She did probabilities and was satisfied that the computer agreedat 93.4 percentthat someone inside the firm was connected to the double murder. She studied her notes, Peabodys reports, the labs, the MEs, the crime-scene records. And put up a second murder board. New lock on the door, she reminded herself. Kitchen knife in the bedroom. But Natalie hadnt been afraid enough to bunk with her boyfriend, or hole up in a hotel. Not afraid enough to tell her sister not to come and stay with her.

Knew the killer, Eve said aloud. Or the go-between. Nervous, excited, cautious, but not seriously afraid for her life. Knife in the bedroom. Girl thing.

She paced in front of the board as she thought. Any serious attacker could probably have disarmed a woman of Copperfields build. But shes alone, starts wigging just a little. Takes the knife like she could use it if she had to.

Not a stupid woman, but seriously naive, Eve added. Gonna handle this deal herself, with her guy. A little excitement in their lives. But who else did she tell?

When her link beeped, she turned, answered it absently. Dallas.

Hey, I know its late but I got this brainstorm. Peabodys brows drew together on the display screen. Are you still working?

Who did she tell?

Who, what?

Obviously, Eve thought as she pulled her mind away from the murder board, Peabody wasnt still working. What brainstorm?

About the shower?

Oh, Christ on a plastic crutch.

Look, its the day after tomorrow.

No, its not. Its on Saturday.

And tomorrow being Friday, Saturday follows. At least in my pretty little world.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

So anyway, Ive got the theme going, and picked up some stuff on my way home. I thought if I came by there tomorrow night, stayed over, we could put it all together in the morning.

What does that mean, putting it all together?

Well, the decorations, and these flower things I ordered, and, well&stuff. Plus I got this idea about the rocker system you bought her and how we can use it as a focal point, but disguise it like a throne until

Please, in the name of God, dont tell me any more.

So it chills with you if me and McNab bunk there tomorrow night?

Sure, bring the family, all your friends, strangers you find on the street. All are welcome here.

Uptown! Catch you in the morning.

She clicked off, then sat on the edge of her desk staring at nothing in particular. Baby showers and double murders. Was she the only one who could see they didnt mix? She wasnt equipped for the first. It wasnt in her makeup. But shed tried, hadnt she? Shed called the caterer, and shed let Mavis invite a horde of peoplemany of whom would be stranger than alien mutants. And still, it wasnt enough.

Why do I have to decorate? she demanded when Roarke stepped to the doorway.

You dont. In fact, I sincerely wish you wouldnt. I like our home as it is.

See? Me, too. She threw out her arms. Why does it have to get tricked out for a baby shower?

Oh. That. Well&I have no idea. I really choose to remain ignorant in this particular area of societal customs.

Peabody said we have to have a theme.

He looked momentarily baffled. A song?

I dont know. Confused, Eve covered her eyes with her hands. And theres going to be a throne.

For the baby?

I dont know. Now she pulled at her hair. I cant think about it. It throws me off. I was thinking about murder, and I was fine. Now Im thinking about themes and thrones, and I feel a little sick.

Eve took a huge breath. Who did she tell?

Peabody? I thought she just told you.

No, God, not Peabody. Natalie Copperfield. Who did she trust or respect or feel obliged to report to if she found something off? Which of her clients did she believe, while they might do something illegal, unethical, might offer a bribe, wouldnt cause her real physical harm? Because theres no way shed have let her sister come over, talked about pancake breakfasts, if she believed there might be actual danger.

First, Id say who she told would depend on the level of the illegality she uncovered. Its not impossible she went directly to the client or their representative. But more likely that she showed the data to a superior.

Back where I started, running rings. No way to pin down who she might have told other than the boyfriend.

As for her client list, there are some high-end companies here. Any or all of them has very likely had some slippery moments. You cant operate large companies without some slippage. Then you pay lawyers to slide you out of it, or you pay fines, settle suits out of court. But I dont know of any major scandal involving those on her lists. And I havent heard anything murmuring on the wind about illegal practices. I can tune myself to that wind a little closer for you.

Thatd be good.

She frowned at the board again. Wait. What if the client isnt the problem? What if someone inside the firm did something like Whitney suggested you could do.

Roarke cocked his head, nodded. Fed one client private data on another. Interesting.

You could demand a percentage, a kickback, even a monthly retainer for information given. One clients got a deal coming up. You just access the files on any competitors your firm might also represent. Pass along some inside data for a fee. Maybe she sees something, like one client consistently nipping out another, or others in competitive areas. She questions the percentages of that, pokes around.

It would explain her reason for not telling a superiorif she didnt do so.

Cant tell someone over her head if shes not sure whos part of the unethical practice. I can do an analysis of comparative operations over the last twelve months, check out the clients who most consistently pump out above the rest of the field.

I can do that for you.

Yeah? That seriously brightened Eves day. Youd probably see it faster if theres anything to see. I can take a closer look at the financialsincomes, outlays of the partners.

Theyd know how to hide income. Theyre accountants.

Gotta start somewhere.

9

IN THE MORNING WITH A SKY THAT LOOKED LIKEsoured milk, Eve sat bleary-eyed over her second cup of coffee. It wasnt the hours, she thought. It was the figures. Roarke plopped an omelette down in front of her. You need it.

She glanced at it, then looked over at him as he sat. Are my eyes bleeding? They feel like theyre bleeding.

Not so far.

I dont know how you do it, day after day. She made the mistake of looking toward the wall screen where he had the morning stock reports running. And slapped a hand over her aching eyes. Have mercy.

He chuckled, but switched to the morning media. Had enough of numbers, darling?

I saw them in my sleep. Dancing. Some were singing. I think some might have had teeth. Id rather lie bare-assed naked on the sidewalk and be trampled by tourists from South Dakota than be an accountant. And you. She stabbed her fork in his direction. You love them. The fives and twenties and the profit margins, overheads, the trading fees and tax-free fuckwhats.

I love little more than a tax-free fuckwhat.

How does anybody keep track of money anyway, when its zinging around all over the place? This guy puts it here for five minutes into pork asses, thenwhap!he kicks the asses and slaps it into gizmos, then shuffles some of that into peanut brittle.

Its never wise to put all your eggs into one porks ass.

Whatever. She had to struggle back a yawn. Those accountant guys rake it in and spread it around.

Moneys a bit like manure. You cant get anything to grow if you dont spread it around.

I couldnt find anything off, but then I think my brain fried in hour two. Lifestyles jibe with the incomes, incomes jibe with the business fees and profits, investments and blah-de-blah. If any of them are pulling some in on the side, theyve got it buried.

Ill see if I can scrape off any of the dirt there. Meanwhile, Ive got a couple of clients that have shown fairly consistent upswings and profits over the last two years. Could be good management, he added as he ate. Good luck. Or good information.

With New York branches?

Yes.

Excellent. Gives me someone to harass and intimidate. Makes up for the long night with numbers. She ate with more enthusiasm. Roarke. Say you were doing something off the books, under the table, or in the gray area of law and ethics.

Me? He gave a good imitation of insulted shock. What a thing to imply.

Yeah, right. But if you were, and one of your employees tapped in. How would you handle it?

Denial. Complete and utter denial, and while I was denying, Id be busy covering up anything potentially damaging, crunching numbers, altering data. Depending on how matters shook out, Id give the employee a raise or transfer them.

In other words, there are lots of ways around this, if its a money deal. Killing two people is extreme, brings more heat. Now youve got cops digging.

A strong and foolish reaction, yes. Someone took it personally, when its simply business.

Yeah, thats what Im thinking.

Since it was something she wanted to run past Mira, Eve copied the files to the profilers office unit, and contacted Miras obsessively protective admin for an appointment. On the way downtown, an ad blimp cruised overhead blasting the news of anINVENTORY BLOWOUT!and aRED DOT EXTRAVAGANZA!at Aladdins Cave at Union Square. She wondered about people who got juiced up about blowouts and extravaganzas at places called Aladdins Cave. What were they after, cut-rate lamps with genies? Overstocked flying carpets? It was too early for bargain hunters or for any but the most determined tourists. New Yorkers clipped along the sidewalks, heading to or from work, to breakfast meetings. By-the-day domestics huddled in the chill waiting for their buses to rumble up to take them to the apartments or townhouses theyd spend their days cleaning. More, she knew, would be jammed under the streets, zoning while the subway thundered along the rails. On corners, glide-cart operators were set up to hawk their hideous excuse for coffee and tooth-chipping bagels to the early commuters. Steam poured off the grills to accommodate those hungry enough or just crazy enough to eat the fake egg pouches the carts fried up. A few enterprising street hawkers were spreading their designer rip-offs and gray market wares on tables and blankets. Scarves and hats and gloves would be the hot sellers, she thought, on a day with the bitter wind cutting at the bone, and the sky just waiting to dump snow. Which it did, along with nasty little bits of ice, minutes before she turned into the garage at Central. In her office, she got another cup of coffee, put her feet up on her desk, and stared at the murder board. Personal, she thought again. Jake Sloan had personal relationships with both vics. Lilah Grove attempted to develop one with the male vic. Cara Greene, first vics department head, purportedly had friendly personal relationship with both vics. All three generations of Sloans had a personal interest in Copperfield. And all of the above had considerable investment in the firm, its success, and its reputation. Eve angled her head, shifted her thoughts. So what connection within the firm do or did any or all of those people have? She plugged in the data Roarke had given her and began to look for one. While she was working, Roarke was walking into Commander Whitneys office. Whitney rose, offered a hand.

I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice, Roarke began.

Its not a problem. Can I offer you coffee?

No. I wont keep you long. Roarke opened his briefcase, took out a file. Hed kept his lawyers busy through the night. I understand theres some concern regarding the Copperfield/Byson investigation, and the ethics of my relationship with the primary.

Why dont you sit down?

All right. What you have there, Roarke continued in the same cool tones, is a document my attorneys have drafted that binds me from utilizing any of the data I may come across through the primary in the course of her investigation.

Whitney flicked a glance down at the file, then shifted his eyes back to Roarkes. I see.

It also stipulates that should I be given access to any of that data, Ill be given it blind. Figures only, without names or organizations. The document is quite detailed, and the penalties, should I break any of the stipulations therein, are quite stiff. Naturally, youll want your legaldepartment to vet it, and should there be any changes or additions requested, those changes and/or additions can be discussed with my legal reps until the document suits all parties.

Ill see that its done.

All right, then. Roarke got to his feet. Of course, legalities and documents dont take into account the fact I may lie and cheat my way around the stipulations, and use my wife and two brutally murdered people for my own financial gain. But I would hope this department, and this office, understandsclearly understandsthe primary in this investigation would never allow it.

Roarke waited a beat. Id like to hear you say you dont question the lieutenants integrity. In fact, I bloody well insist on it.

Lieutenant Dallass integrity is not at issue for me. And is not in question.

Just mine, then?

Officially, this department and this office must insure the privacy of the citizens of New Yorkthat information generated or uncovered during the course of an investigation is not utilized for harm, for personal gain, or in any illegal capacity.

I thought you knew me better than that, Roarke shot back, barely able to hold on to the slippery edge of his fury. At least well enough to be sure Id do nothing to reflect poorly on my wife, to put her reputation or her career on the line.

I do. Whitney nodded. I know you well enough to be absolutely sure of that. So, unofficially, all this is bullshit. Whitney flicked his fingers at the file sharply enough to scoot it over the surface of his desk. Bureaucratic, political, ass-kissing bullshit that infuriates me nearly as much as you. I can offer you my personal apology for it.

You should have offered her one.

Now Whitney raised his brows. Lieutenant Dallas isnt a civilian, and is under my command. She knows the departmental line. I dontapologize for informing a subordinate of a potential problem within an investigation. Nor would she, I expect, in my place.

She intends to bring me in, officially as expert consultant, civilian.

She would, wouldnt she? Whitney sat back, frowned. Thumb her nose at anyone whod question her integrity or yours. Still& Now he tapped his fingers, thinking it through. That would also put you under the departments aegis throughout the investigation, which goes some way of covering us. And your document, which Id assume is as complicated as it is detailed, should take care of the rest.

Some media spinning if we need it.

That can be handled, Roarke told him.

Ive no doubt about it. Ill have this vetted by Legal, and run it through with Chief Tibble.

Then Ill let you get to it.

Whitney rose. When you speak to the lieutenant, tell her I have every confidence this case will be closed in a timely fashion.

And that, Roarke thought, was as close to an apology as Eve would get. Ill do that.

When Peabody poked her head into Eves office, Eve was pinning names to the back side of her board. Baxter and I have been through the lot, she told Eve. Nothing pops out of line, and Copperfield and Byson didnt share any clients.

You gotta go under it, Eve said half to herself. Forget the numbers for now, look at names. Look at people. Numbers make you crazy anyway.

I kind of like them. Peabody moved in, squeezing around the desk to view the back of the board.

You got your big three, Eve began, and tapped names. Sloan, Myers, Kraus. Under Sloan youve got the son, then the grandson.Connect Copperfield to Jake Sloan, putting them both under Cara Greene. Under Copperfield, youve got the assistant, Sarajane Bloomdale. Rochelle DeLay connects to Jake Sloan, to Copperfield, and also to Byson, who comes over here, under the big three, and under Myra Lovitz, with another connect to Lilah Grove.

You need a bigger board.

Maybe. Then youve got your alibis. Myers and Kraus with clients.

And all checked out, Peabody added.

Jacob Sloans got his grandkid and the girlfriend, his wife. Doubling that back as Sloan alibiing the grandson. Handy.

Yet feasible.

Randall Sloan has clients covering his ass for the time in question.

Also checked. And none of the alibis were Copperfields clients.

Nope. However, the Bullock Foundation is represented in the legal world by Stuben, Robbins, Cavendish, and Mull, who were Copperfields. And one of the accountsaccording to Greene when I contacted her this morningCopperfield copped within the last year.

Aha! Peabody hunched her shoulders at Eves beady stare. I just wanted to say it.

The British law firm has a New York branch, which is also handy. Byson connects there, as he represented the number crunching for Lordes Cavendish McDermott

Sounds like an opera singer.

Socialite and widow of Miles McDermott, really rich dude. Meanwhile, other under-the-surface connections. Randall Sloan is alibied by Sasha Zinka and Lola Warfield. Zinka has a sister living in Prague, who, along with two partners, owns and runs a five-diamond hotel. And whose number crunching is done by&

Sloan, Myers, and Kraus. I did Copperfields. I dont remember a Zinka. It wouldve clicked.

Sisters name is Kerlinko, Anna. And the hotel group was Copperfields. Also copped within this last year.

Either a lot of coincidence or a lot of connections.

I like connections. Pull the data on these companies, and the New Yorkbased staff for now. Ive got a quick consult with Mira, then were in the field.

Heading out, Eve stopped to scowl at a vending machine. She and Vending currently had a cold war in progress. But she wanted a damn Pepsi. In fact, if she took a tube with her to Miras, the doctor wouldnt insist on pushing into her hands that flower tea she always brewed. Eve jingled the loose credits in her pockets. She wasnt going to just key in her code. That wasnt just asking for trouble, it was begging for it. She took out the credits she needed, was about to risk the annoyance and disappointment by plugging them in herself, when a couple of uniforms came her way, quick-stepping a skinny guy in restraints between them. The skinny guy was squawking like a parrot on Zeus about harassment, constitutional rights, and someone named Shirley.

Hey. She held up a hand, then held out the credits. With her free hand she stabbed a finger at the parrot. You. Zip it.

Even with the illegals in his system whirling his eyes around in his head, the mope must have caught the tone of her voice. He went down to whimpers.

Use this, gimme Pepsi.

Sure, Lieutenant.

Because the uniform didnt blink at the request, Eve assumed her cold war was known throughout the department.

What he do? she asked with a nod toward the now sniveling parrot.

Pushed a woman down a couple flights of stairs at his flop. She didnt bounce.

Slipped. She slipped. I wasnt even there. I hardly knew her. Cops tossed me down on the street. Im gonna sue.

Three eyewits, the uniform said dryly as he handed Eve her tube. Fled the scene. Took a little spill during pursuit.

Whos got it?

Carmichaels primary.

Satisfied Eve nodded. Thanks.

The squawking renewed as she walked off to take the glides to Miras sector. She supposed Miras area would be considered more civilized than hers. You werent likely to see junked-up suspects being hauled around. Here there was quiet, easy colors, and a lot of closed doors. Miras was open, and the admin guarding the perimeter looked relaxed, so Eve decided she wasnt going to have to do a dance to gain admission. Mira spotted her from her desk. Eve. Come right in. Im just finishing up some paperwork.

Appreciate the time.

I have a little to spare today.

As always, Mira looked perfectly put together without being obvious about it. She was letting her sable-colored hair grow some so that it waved softly to the nape of her neck. Her suit was a monochromatic three-piece in a rich, plummy tone worn with sparkling silver chains and little glittery hoops in her ears. She smiled easily, a lovely face with soft blue eyes Eve knew could see right through the skull into whatever secrets the brain might hold.

Did you get a chance to look at the reports?

I did. Have a seat. Its a shame, isnt it, all that youth and optimism cut off so abruptly. She sat back. Their lives were just beginning, really.

Now theyre over, Eve said flatly. Why?

Why is rarely straightforward, is it? On the profile, she said in brisk, professional tones, I agree, as youd expect, with your conclusions and the MEs, that youre looking for one killer. Most likely male, between thirty-five and sixty-five. He isnt impulsive, and wasnt looking for thrills. He didnt rape either victim because it wasnt part of the business at hand. And, very likely, he doesnt equate sex with power andcontrol. He may be in a sexual relationship where he is accustomed to being subservient.

Rape takes time, Eve added. He had a schedule to keep, and priorities.

Agreed. But rape, or the threat of it, is often used in torture killings, as is mutilation. No sexual assault, no mutilation, no serious vandalism. He came prepared, and with a purpose. He fulfilled it, using brute force and physicalvery likely emotionaltorture.

Mira spread the crime scene photos out on her desk.

Binding the victims put them under his control, kept them helpless. Removing the tape from both victims mouths tells me he wanted, or needed, to see their faces. The whole of their faces as he strangled them.

Pride in his work.

Yes. A job fulfilled, and the acknowledgment of his power and his control. As he was able to overcome a man of Bysons years and physical build, hes likely in good physical condition himself. Utilizing weapons on scenethe robe tie, the binding cordshows presence of mind and clear thinking. The lack of any DNA on the first scene indicates he took precautions. The fact that there was DNA on the second tells me he lost that control long enough to lead with temper.

Because he got clocked.

Exactly, Mira said with a ghost of a smile. Byson hurt him, and he reacted poorly to the pain. Copperfield was the primary target.

And Im not telling you anything you dont know.

No, but it solidifies it.

This was a desperate act committed without desperation. He certainly feared them, or what they could do, but theres no indication of panic on the bodies or on the scenes. He was in control, and illustrated that control to them, to himself, by the face-to-face strangulations.

Watch me kill you while I watch you die.

Yes. And while he may havealmost certainlyexperienced some sort of thrill through that, he remained controlled enough to move quickly to the secondary target and finish his job.

But not a pro. Its too messy for a professional.

I agree. But his focus was very tight, his preparations well thought out.

A good sense of self-preservation can do that.

It can. Following that train, he may have been protecting himself, his own interests, or someone close to him. He was very careful.

But didnt know enough about forensics to know that wed be able to get his DNA off the scrapes on Bysons knuckles.

Perhaps not, but Id judge him as educated, organized, and thorough. Id be very surprised if he hasnt destroyed or disposed of anything he took from the scenes, anything he used to gain entry. I expect if you interview him during the course of your investigation, hell be cooperative. If he knew the victims, hell attend their memorial with every sign of sorrow for their loss. Hell have thought all of that through as well.

As well as an alibi for the time in question.

Id be surprised if he didnt have one. Some in these circumstances might deliberately avoid having an alibi to add to the thrill and excitement during the investigation. The game of it. I dont think thats your type here. Hed have dotted all his is beforehand.

Eve nodded. Okay. Thanks.

Im looking forward to tomorrow, Mira said as Eve rose.

Whatsoh. Oh, yeah.

With a laugh, Mira swiveled in her chair. Ive never known any sort of an event at your home to be less than entertaining. Mavis must be thrilled.

I guess. Truth? Im kind of ducking her. We had to do the class thingthe coach class? Which was a nightmare beyond the speaking of it. Im afraid shes going to tag me and do, like, a quiz to make sure I was paying attention!

And were you?

You couldnt look away. It was like watching a horror movie. Freaky, she muttered, and had to struggle not to shudder. Tomorrow, Im going to be surrounded by those women whore brewing babies. What if one of them decides to pop?

Unlikely, but you will have a couple of doctors on hand. Ill be there, so will Louise.

Right. The idea relieved her. I forgot. Okay, thats a load off. Maybe you could be sure to hang around until all of them leave. Just in case.

Eleven years and counting on the force, and youve never delivered a baby?

Thats right, and Im going to keep that record intact.

Eves first thought when she entered Sasha Zinkas office was that it rivaled Roarkes for space, for plush, for taste. The clean lines and surprising slashes of bold color against the muted made it female without being fussy. She thought the same of Sasha herself. The woman could have easily passed for a decade younger than her age on her official records. Honeycomb hair was swooped back and up from a heart-shaped face dominated by clear blue eyes. She wore a suit of rusty red as restrained and subtle as the jewelry shed matched to it. She crossed the thick silver carpet in an easy glide in skinny heels as she held out a hand.

Lieutenant Dallas. We met in passing at some gala or other last spring.

I remember.

Lousy way to meet again. Youre Detective Peabody. We spoke by link.

Peabody accepted the hand held out to her. Thanks for seeing us.

Please, have a seat. Tell me what I can do. You wanted to see Lola as well. Shes on her way. Would you like anything while we wait for her?

Were fine, thanks. Eve sat in a chair of amber leather so buttery she was surprised her butt didnt just melt through it. You knew Natalie Copperfield?

A little. Knew of her more. She took a seat of her own. Its terrible, what happened to her and the young man. But Im not sure where Lola and I come into it.

Youve stated that you and Ms. Warfield had dinner with Randall Sloan on the night of the murders.

Thats right. Business primarily, but Lola and I enjoy Rans company. We were out until after two in the morning, as I told the detective when she contacted me. You dont seriously consider Ran

She broke off as the door opened. Lola Warfield rushed in looking flushed and scattered with her wild brunette curls flying. Her eyes, nearly the same color as the chair where Eve sat, were full of laughing apology.

Sorry, sorry. I got hung up. Dallas, right? I took my life in my hands and snatched your gorgeous husband for a dance at the Marquis event last spring. If he were mine Id beat any woman who looked at him with a stick, even if she plays for the other team.

Then the cityd be hip-deep in bodies.

Thatd be a problem. Im sorry. She flashed a brilliant smile at Peabody. I cant remember your name.

Detective Peabody.

Nice to meet you. Well, not nice, I guess. Its awful, but a little exciting, too.

Lola glues herself to the screen for the crime reports, Sasha explained.

And here we are in the middle of one. Or right on the sidelines. And Im being horrible. I met Natalie a couple of times. She was very sweet, it seemed to me.

As she spoke, she moved to the long bar at one end of the office, took a bottle of water from a cold box. Anyone?

No, thanks. Eve waited a beat while Lola moved to perch on the arm of Sashas chair. When was the business dinner set up with Randall Sloan?

Mmm. Lola glanced down at Sasha. Couple of days before, wasnt it? We generally meet with him every quarter.

Thats right, Sasha confirmed. Wed had to postpone an earlier meeting because we were out of the country for a few days right after the first of the year.

Who set it up?

Hmm. Lola furrowed her brow. I guess Ran did. Its usual for him to get in touch, set up a meeting, or an evening out.

In the course of your business or conversations with Mr. Sloan, did he mention any difficulties with Natalie Copperfield or Bick Byson?

No. Sasha took the ball. Their names never came up. We work directly with Ran. We did meet her, and her fiancé, as I said. At Jacob Sloans home. SheNataliewas friendly with his grandson.

Ms. Copperfield handles your sisters financials.

Thats right. When Anna and her friends went into business, I recommended the firm, and spoke with Ran personally on who he thought would be best for them. He assigned Natalie. She and Anna hit it off wellso Im toldwhen Natalie flew out to meet with her.

Your sister was satisfied with Ms. Copperfields work.

I didnt hear any complaints. And I would have.

Would you ever, Lola confirmed. Anna doesnt suffer in silence. Are you looking inside the firm for a suspect? I assumed it was something personal andwellpassionate. Like a jealous ex or unrequited love.

Were looking everywhere, Eve told her, and rose. If you remember anything or think of something, you can contact me at Central.

Thats all? Lolas lips moved into a pout of disappointment. I was hoping wed get grilled.

Maybe next time. Thanks for your time, Eve added. She waited until they were outside, hiking back to their vehicle. Impressions?

Straightforward, confident, calm. Business as usual on the date for the dinner with Sloan, and they dont strike me as the type to cover for an employeeeven if they are on friendly terms. Theres Zinkas sisters connection to the first vic, but if I go with the gut, I cant see either or both of them committing double murders, or attaching themselves to same to keep the sister out of a jam. And theyre way rich. If this is about money, they dont need to cheat to make more.

Its not about need, its about greed and power, Eve corrected. But I didnt get any vibe there. If it was the sisters account that sent up the red flag for Copperfield, and either of them knew about it, theyre damn cool. What do we have on Anna Kerlinkos whereabouts on the night?

Peabody took out her memo book as she slid into the car. Figuring the time difference, she was having breakfast with her current lover when Copperfield was murdered, and in her office by nine, her time. Got wits. She couldnt have zipped here, done them, zipped back.

We move on.

Using geography as much as her own checklist, she maneuvered the six blocks east to take the New York branch of the law firm representing the Bullock Foundation. Theyd been assigned to Copperfield within the last few months, Eve mused, and had yet another connection with Byson representing one of the partners nieces. The firm had its offices in an elegant old brownstone with the outer office as quiet as a church and manned by a woman who sat bathed in the colored light that seeped through the stained glass of the streetside window. She was a sharp looker with her red hair in a long, swooping curve. Eve badged her and got several surprised blinks in response.

I dont understand.

Badge, Eve said helpfully. Cops. Now you buzz your boss and tell him we need to speak with him.

Golly. I mean, Im sorry, but Mr. Cavendish is in a meeting. Id be happy to check his schedule with his assistant and set up an appointment.

No, no, youre getting it wrong. Let me repeat. Badge. Cops. Eve glanced around, saw the straight angle of polished wood stairs. Offices up that way?

Oh, butbutbut

Eve left the redhead sputtering and moved with Peabody to the stairs. The second level changed Eves opinion from church to museum. The carpets were old, worn, and expensive. The wainscotting the real deal, and very likely original. Paintings of country landscapes adorned the walls. A door swung open on the left. The woman who stepped out was older than the girl at the downstairs desk, and twice as sharp. She wore her jet hair in a no-nonsense twist that complimented a striking, angular face. The pinstriped suit might have been no-nonsense as well, but it had been tailored to mold a very fine body.

I believe you were told Mr. Cavendish is in a meeting and unavailable at this time. What can I do for you?

You can get him out of his meeting and see that hes available, Eve returned. That would be helpful.

She felt an entertaining little buzz up the back of her spine at the womans silent, burning stare. Got a name, sister?

Ms. Ellyn Bruberry. Im Mr. Cavendishs administrative assistant. And a paralegal.

Good for you. We need to talk to Mr. Cavendish in connection with an investigation.

Mr. Cavendish is, as youve now been told twice, unavailable. And as you must know, is under no obligation to speak with you without notice.

Got me there, Eve said cheerfully. Well be happy to give Mr. Cavendish, and you, and every one in these offices notice of your obligation to come into Cop Central for formal interviews, whichbeing a paralegalyou must know could take a few hours to, oh, next Christmas. Or gee, we could just talk to him now, in the comfort of his own office. And probably be out of your hair in under twenty minutes.

She paused. Pick a door.

Eve actually heard the woman suck air through her nose.

Youll have to tell me what this is about.

No, I really dont. You may want to ask your boss if hed rather speak to me now, or come into Central in the immediate future and spend considerable time being interviewed formally. Or you can make that decision for him. Up to you.

But& Peabody tapped her wrist unit. Times a-wasting.

Wait here.

Eve waited until Bruberry had clicked off on her sharply heeled boots. Times a-wasting?

It just worked for me. Kind of pissy, wasnt she? And she knows why were here.

Oh, yeah, she does. Interesting. Idly, Eve turned to study one of the countryscapes. How come people live and work in urban areas, then put up pictures of rural areas on the wall? Cant they make up their minds where they want to be?

A lot of people find rural landscapes relaxing.

Sure, until you start wondering whats creeping behind those trees, or slithering along in the grass.

Peabody shifted uncomfortably. Some people think bounding instead of creeping, as in pretty little fawns, and frolicking as opposed to slithering, like cute little bunnies.

Some people are fools. Lets entertain ourselves, Peabody, and start a run on Bruberry. And one on Cavendish.

It could be fawns and bunnies, Peabody muttered, and took out her PPC to do the runs. Moments later, Bruberry stepped out of another door. Her back was poker straight, her tone cool and aloof. Mr. Cavendish will see you now. Ten minutes.

10

FROM CHURCH TO MUSEUM, EVE THOUGHT, THENthrough the door into the mens club. Walter Cavendish presided over an office with wide-armed, port-colored leather chairs and sofas, and dark, heavy woods. The carpets were thickly padded Orientals, likely the real deal, in rich tones and complex patterns. Amber liquid swam in thick crystal decanters that would have doubled as very effective murder weapons. A trim black data and communication center stood alongside leather and brass accessories that were arranged just so on the antique desk where Cavendish sat looking prosperous, tailoredand to Eves gaugenervy. He was in his early fifties, with a good head of the hair people called sandy in men, mousey in women. His face was ruddy, his eyes a light blue that skipped over Eves face, then over her shoulder. His suit was a muted brown with just a hint of a gold stripe to show he liked a little pizzazz. He rose, and his not-quite-handsome face set in solemn lines. Id like to see some identification. He spoke, to Eves mind, in the rounded, fruity tones of a hammy Shakespearean actor. Both she and Peabody took out badges. Lieutenant Dallas, Eve said, and Detective Peabody. Looks like your meeting broke up. Funny, we didnt see anyone leave.

He looked momentarily confused, and those nervous eyes slid to Bruberry even as the admin spoke.

It was a link conference.

Yes, a link conference. With London.

Thats handy. She kept her eyes on Cavendish in a way that told him she knew he was already lying. Since youve got a few minutes now, we have some questions in connection with an investigation.

So Im told. He gestured, started to sit. When he didnt offer a hand, Eve shot hers out deliberately. She wanted the feel of his. He hesitated, and she saw his gaze dart toward his admin yet again before he took Eves hand in his. A little soft, she noted, a little damp.

Whats the nature of your investigation?

Homicide. Natalie Copperfield and Bick Byson. Are those names familiar to you?

No.

You dont watch the media reports, I take it. Dont scan the newspapers. She flicked a glance of her own toward a wall screen framed in the dark wood that dominated the room. These individuals were murdered three nights ago in their respective residences. Both were employed by the accounting firm of Sloan, Myers, and Kraus. And funnily enough, Natalie Copperfield handled the accounts for your home operation. But that name doesnt ring for you?

I dont retain the names of everyone I might hear of or read of. Im a very busy man. As far as accounting, Ellynmy assistantdeals with that area.

Im aware of Ms. Copperfield, Bruberry stated. What does her death have to do with this firm?

At this point, Ill be asking the questions, Eve said coolly. Where were you, Mr. Cavendish, three nights ago between the hours of midnight and fourA.M.?

At home, in bed. With my wife.

Eve lifted her eyebrows. You cant remember the names of two people whove been all over the media reports, but you knowwithout a seconds hesitation or without checking your bookwhere you were three nights ago?

At home, he said again. In bed.

Have you had any contact with Ms. Copperfield or Mr. Byson?

No.

Thats odd. Dont you find that odd, Detective, that Mr. Cavendish would have no contact whatsoever with the person who handles his firms accounts?

I have to say I do. Me, Im on a first-name basis with the guy in Payroll back at Central.

I may have, at some point, met

I corresponded and met with Ms. Copperfield, Bruberry interrupted. When necessary. Such matters are, primarily, dealt with through our home office in London.

And just what do you do here? Eve asked, speaking directly to Cavendish.

I represent our firms New York interests.

Which means?

Exactly that.

That clarifies it. And you also represent the legal interests of Lordes C. McDermott, who was a client of Bick Byson.

Ms. McDermott is a family relation, and naturally is represented by our firm. As to her financial manager, I couldnt say.

Really? Gee, seems like one hand doesnt keep a grip on the other around here. And, second gee, I dont think I said Byson was her financial manager, just that she was a client.

Cavendish fiddled with the knot of his tie. Nervous tell, Eve thought.

I assumed.

While were at it, your whereabouts on the night of the murders, Ms. Bruberry?

At home. I was in bed before midnight.

Alone?

I live alone, yes. Im afraid thats all the time Mr. Cavendish can spare.

Eve got lazily to her feet. Thanks for your cooperation. Oh, she continued. Your firm also represents& She took out her memo book as if to check on a name. The Bullock Foundation.

And there, she noted, just that little ripple over the face. The tightening of the jaw, the flicker in the eyes. Another brush of the fingers over the knot of his tie. Thats correct.

Ms. Madeline Bullock and Mr. Winfield Chase were recently in the city. I suppose you met with them while they were here.

I&

Ms. Bullock and Mr. Chase had a luncheon meeting here with Mr. Cavendish. That would have been on Monday afternoon. At twelve-thirty, Bruberry added.

You had your meeting, and your lunch with them here. In the office.

Thats correct, Bruberry snapped before Cavendish could respond. Would you like me to find my notes on the menu?

Ill let you know. This has been just swell. Thanks for the time. Eve turned to go, hesitated at the door. You know, its odd that while youre so busy representing your firms New York interests, you didnt take regular meetings with the senior accountant who looks after their finances.

Ill see you out, Bruberry said when Cavendish remained silent.

Thats okay. We can manage it.

Somebodys got a secret, Peabody said when they were back on the street.

Bet your ass. That guy had guilt and fear plastered all over him. Could be well find hes just cheating on his wife or wearing womens underwear.

Or both if hes cheating with his admin. Shes definitely the alpha male in that duet.

You got that right. Stupid to lie about knowing Copperfield, and he was.

Puffed up. You know, Peabody continued when Eve lifted a brow. Im too important to know the little people. And its a way of distancing himself from the big stew.

Big stew being murder. She got behind the wheel, tapped her fingers on it. They werent prepared. Never considered the cops would question them, so they went with first instinct. Deny everything. Lets see if we can track down Lordes McDermott, get another angle on this.

Peabody pulled out her PPC to get an address. Got a place on Riverside Drive.