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She didn’t know what she’d expected in the kitchen, but bright, bloody red was the signature color.
A half mile of cabinets gleamed red, as did the appliances: the two massive refrigerators, the wall ovens, the cooktop. The counters were a sea of white and the floor a spread of midnight black.
“Horrible, isn’t it? I do for a lot of people, and everybody’s got their own taste and style. But this one? My mama says it takes the cake and two slices of pie with it.”
Sila moved around the center island, took a jog left to a door—red, of course—carved with people in various states of undress gorging themselves from bowls of fruit, from fruit hanging from trees or growing fat on bushes, from fruit clutched in other figures’ hands.
“They keep the droids in here. House droid, and its backup,” Sila said as she gestured. “The vac droid, the scrubber droid, and so on. But this one’s the, well, head droid, you’d say.”
Eve approached the dark-suited droid. Tall, slim, dignified, with some whiffs of Summerset to her eye. He’d been designed with dark hair winged with silver, thin lips, and edgy cheekbones.
Eve glanced back, saw Peabody nod, hold up a finger, continue the conversation on her ’link. So Eve stepped in, angled her head, and started searching for the manual power up.
It pleased her when she found it, under the left wing of hair.
The droid made a quiet hum, then the pale blue eyes jittered, blinked, focused.
“Good morning,” it said in the same fruity Brit as the intercom comp. “I am called Stevens. I’m afraid I’m not programmed to assist you today without the authorization of Mr. or Mrs. Betz.”
Eve took out her badge. “Scan and verify. I’m here on police business. I need information. You can give me that information or I’ll have you taken into Central where EDD will extract said information.”
“One moment.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Your identification is verified. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. Is there a police emergency?”
“Let’s hope not.”
“Dallas.”
Eve pointed at the droid to signal wait, turned to Peabody.
“His admin says he’s expected in this morning. He plans to join his wife, but didn’t leave with her. She left yesterday morning, and as of now, his plans are to leave tomorrow or the day after.”
Eve turned back to the droid. “When did Mr. Betz leave the premises?”
“I am unable to answer accurately. Mrs. Betz shut me down at ten-thirty-eight yesterday morning at her departure. Mr. Betz had already left the residence. He departed for his office at approximately nine-fifteen.”
“His return?”
“I am unable to answer accurately as I have been on off mode since ten-thirty-eight yesterday morning.”
“Would Betz generally put you back on when he returned?”
“Most usually, yes.”
“How does Mr. Betz get to work?”
“He engages a driver. Royal Limo and Transportation Service. His most usual driver is George. I regret I have no last name.”
“Peabody.”
“On it.”
“Do you know if Mr. Betz had any appointments scheduled yesterday, appointments here, in the residence?”
“No such appointment was programmed into my calendar.”
