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She scanned the screens as her cop’s eyes had already scanned the room. She was nearly certain she’d spotted all the security cameras and recorders, and taking a chance on a very uncomfortable detention, shifted so that her body was partially blocked by Peabody’s.
She pulled the diamond Roarke had given her from under her shirt, ran it idly along its chain, and with her free hand slid the small recorder out, kept it pressed just at her throat as she aimed it at the screens.
/> “A clean life,” she said aloud. “No criminal record whatsoever. Parents married, still living, still based in Carmel. His father did military time, ranked colonel, served during the Urban Wars. Mother an MT with time off as professional parent. That’s a pretty solid upbringing.”
Peabody kept her eyes on the screen and off the recorder. “Solid education, too. Graduate of Princeton, with postgrad work at the World Learning Center on Space Station Freedom. That was right at its conception, and only the top students could get in. Married at thirty, just before his first run for office. Adjusted Population advocate. Requisite one child, male.”
She shifted her gaze to another screen. “His politics are dead center Liberal Party. Butted heads with your old friend DeBlass over the appeal of the Gun Ban and the Morality Bill DeBlass was pushing.”
“I have a feeling I would have liked the senator.” Eve turned slightly. “Scroll personal data to medical history.”
The screen flipped, and the technical terms made her eyes want to cross. She’d have them translated later, she thought, if she managed to get out of the facility with the recorder.
“Looked like a healthy specimen. Physical and mental records show no abnormality. Tonsils treated in childhood, a broken tibia in his twenties as a result of a sport injury. Sight correction, standard, in middle forties. A permanent sterilization procedure during the same period.”
“This is interesting.” Peabody continued to scan the political screen. “He was endorsing a bill that would require all legal representatives and technicians to be rescreened every five years, at their own expense. That wouldn’t sit too well with the legal community.”
“Or with Fitzhugh,” Eve murmured. “Looks like he was after the electronic empire, too. Tougher testing requirements for new devices, new licensing laws. That wouldn’t have made him Mister Popularity, either. Autopsy report,” she demanded, then narrowed her eyes when it flashed on screen.
She skimmed through the jargon, shook her head. “Boy, was he a mess when they scraped him up. Didn’t leave them a hell of a lot to work with. Brain scan and dissection. Nothing,” she said after a moment. No report here of an abnormality or flaw.”
“Display,” she demanded, and stepped closer to the screen to study the visual herself. “Cross section. Side view, enhance. What do you see, Peabody?”
“Unattractive gray matter, too damaged for transplant.”
“Enhance right hemisphere, frontal lobe. Jesus, what a fucking mess he made out of himself. You just can’t see. Can’t be sure.” She stared until her eyes burned. Was that a shadow, or was it simply part of the trauma caused when a human skull smashed brutally into concrete?
“I don’t know, Peabody.” She had all she needed, and she slid the recorder under her shirt again. “But I do know that there’s no motive or predisposition for self-destruct in this data. And that makes three. Let’s get the hell out of this place,” she decided. “It gives me the creeps.”
“I’m with you all the way on that one.”
They got tubes of Pepsi and what passed for a hash sandwich at a glide-cart on the corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and Security Row. Eve was just about to hail a transport back to the airport when a sleek black limo glided to the curb. The rear window slid down, and Roarke smiled out at them.
“Would you ladies like a lift?”
“Wow,” was all Peabody could manage as she scanned the car from bumper to bumper. It was a gleaming antique, a luxury from another era, and as romantic and tempting as sin.
“Don’t encourage him, Peabody.” When Eve started to climb in, Roarke took her hand and tumbled her into his lap. “Hey.” Mortified, she jabbed with her elbow.
“I love to fluster her when she’s on duty,” Roarke said, wrestling Eve back onto his lap. “And how was your day, Peabody?”
Peabody grinned, delighted to see her lieutenant flushed and cursing. “It just got better. If this thing has a privacy screen, I can leave you two alone.”
“I said not to encourage him, didn’t I?” This time her elbow had better aim, and Eve managed to slide off onto the seat. “Idiot,” she muttered at Roarke.
“She dotes on me so.” He sighed, settled back. “It’s almost smothering. If you’ve finished your police business, can I offer you a tour of the city?”
“No,” Eve said before Peabody could open her mouth. “Straight back to New York. No detours.”
“She’s a real party animal, too,” Peabody said soberly, then neatly folded her hands and watched the city stream by.
chapter ten
Before Eve left for home, she perfected a detailed report on the similarities in the alleged suicides and why her suspicions that the senator’s death was due to the same as yet unknown causes. She transferred her findings to the commander’s unit, with a flag to his home ’link.
Unless his wife was hosting one of her ubiquitous dinner parties, she knew Whitney would review the report before morning. With that hope, she took the sky glide from homicide to the Electronic Detective Division.
She found Feeney at his desk, his stubby fingers holding delicate tools, microglasses turning his eyes to saucers as he stripped down a miniboard.
