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"Well, I need to see one of your guests who checked in early this morning. Lamont. Paul Lamont."

"Jeez, Dallas, we're working on priority here. We gotta get these stiffs ID'd."

"It's connected."

"All right, all right." Obviously miffed, Chambers scurried to a computer, ran the log. "We got him on ice in area D, drawer twelve. We're racking, packing, and stacking them for now."

"I need a look at him, his personal effects and the incoming report."

"Let's make it quick." His shoes slapped down the hall. He swung into area D, slid his key card in the slot, and led them inside. "Drawer twelve," he reminded her. "Just use your master, and I'll pull up the rest."

Eve uncoded the drawer and out came a puff of icy smoke and Lamont. Or what was left of him. "They did a job on him," she muttered, scanning his mangled, broken body.

"Sure did. Says here the vehicle, a black Airstream van, jumped the curve and ran right over him where he stood on the sidewalk. We haven't done anything on him yet, just stored him. He's not priority."

"No, he'll keep." Eve slid the drawer back in place. "What did he have on him?"

"Fifty couple in credits, wrist unit, IDs and key cards, pack of breath mints, palm-link, date book. Oooh, and a sticker." He examined the long, slim blade. "Over the legal limit, I'd say."

"Only by a mile or two. I need the 'link and date book."

"Fine by me. Sign for them and they're yours. Look, I have to get back. Hate to keep the customers waiting."

She signed the checkout log. "Have these effects been dusted?"

"Hell if I know. Enjoy."

Eve turned to Peabody as the area doors swung shut. "We'll dust and clean first. Let's go on record."

Peabody shifted her field kit on her shoulder. "Here? Don't you want to do this somewhere else?"

"Why?"

"Well, the place is full of dead people."

"And you want to be a murder cop?"

"I'd rather deal with one at a time." But she opened her kit and went to work. "Good clean prints on here."

"We'll run them after we check out his 'link and log. Probably Lamont's prints."

Eve took the 'link, turned it over in her hand. It was a top-of-the-line model, sleek and complex. She remembered his expensive shoes. "Wonder what Roarke pays these guys? She turned the control to replay all incoming and outgoing transmissions for the last twenty-four hours. "Note any numbers we hit. We'll need to run them, too."

She watched the numbers zip by on the display, then pursed her lips. Video was blocked. But the voices came through loud and clear.

Yes.

They're looking at me. Lamont, Eve decided, with the faintly French accent and the squeak of nerves in his voice. The cops were here. They're looking at me. They know something.

Calm down. You're shielded. This isn't something to discuss over 'links. Where are you?

It's all right. I'm secured. I slipped out to the grill down from work. They called me up, Roarke was there, too.

And what did you tell them?

Nothing. They got nothing out of me. But I'm telling you, I'm not taking the fall for this. I want out. I need more money.

Your father would be disappointed.

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