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“Dr. Mira is in session,” the receptionist said politely. “I’ll be happy to log your message.”
“Has she tested Mirium Hopkins?”
“One moment while I check the logs.” The receptionist slid her gaze to the side, then back. “That session has been rescheduled for eight thirty tomorrow morning.”
“Rescheduled, why?”
“The log notes indicate that the subject complained of severe head pain, and on examination by the physician on duty, was medicated.”
“Who was the physician on duty?” Eve asked through clenched teeth.
“Dr. Arthur Simon.”
“Simon Says; figures.” Disgusted, Eve whipped her car around a slow-moving maxibus packed with commuters. “He’ll give you a double tranq for a hangnail.”
The receptionist grimaced in sympathy. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but the subject was already medicated before her scheduled testing. Dr. Mira is unable to proceed until morning.”
“Fine. Terrific. Ask her to let me know as soon as she’s done.” Eve broke transmission. “Son of a bitch. I’m going in to take a look at her, myself. Deliver the bags to the lab, Peabody, with a request for rush—for what good that does. Then you’re off duty.”
“You’ll interview Forte again tonight.”
“That’s right.”
“Sir, I request to be present during interview.”
“Request denied,” Eve said shortly as she pulled into the garage at Central. “I said you’re off duty.” She shoved out of the car and walked away.
It was midnight and her own head was aching viciously. The house was quiet when she slipped in, dragged herself up the stairs. It didn’t surprise her to see Roarke, awake and on the bedroom ’link. She glanced at the monitor as she passed through and recognized the young, eager face of one of the engineers assigned to the Olympus Resort.
It made her think of the last few days of her honeymoon. There had been death there, as well. Big surprise, she thought as she leaned over the sink and splashed her face with cold water. There was never any escaping it.
She toweled off, then walked to the bed to sit and remove her boots. When they hit the floor, the effort of undressing further seemed beyond her. She crawled onto the bed and lay across it, facedown.
Roarke listened to his engineer with half an ear while he watched her. He knew the signs, the shadowed eyes, the pale skin, the slow, deliberate movements. She’d worked herself to the breaking point again—a habit that both fascinated and frustrated him.
“I’ll get back to you on that tomorrow,” he said and abrupt
ly ended transmission. “You’ve had a bad one, Lieutenant.”
She didn’t stir when he straddled her and began to knead her neck and shoulders. “I know there’s been worse,” she murmured. “I just can’t think of when right now.”
“Louis Trivane’s murder has been all over the news.”
“Goddamn vultures.”
He unhooked her weapon harness, wiggled it off her, and set it aside. “A prominent attorney gets himself hacked up in an exclusive private club, it’s news.” Competently, he worked his thumbs up her spine. “Nadine’s called here several times.”
“Yeah, she’s buzzed Central, too. I don’t have time for her.”
“Mmm.” He tugged her shirt free of her slacks, and used the heels of his hands. “Did you walk in on it, or was that added for entertainment value?”
“No, I walked in on it. Maybe if that idiot droid at the desk hadn’t—” She broke off, shook her head. “I was too late. She’d already opened him up. She was still working on him, like a kid with a science project. She implicated Charles Forte.”
“That’s out, too.”
“Of course it is,” she said with a sigh. “You can’t plug all the leaks.”
“You have him in custody?”
