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"You located the target?"
"No." She said that much between her teeth, then forced her jaw to relax. "It's a personal favor, Anne, I'm sorry to ask. Mira believes one of Roarke's properties will likely be today's target. He's going into his office, and I—"
"Give me the address," Anne said briskly, "and it's done."
Eve closed her eyes, breathed out slowly. "Thanks. I owe you."
"No, you don't. I've got a man of my own. I'd do the same thing."
"I owe you anyway. I've got data coming in," she added when her machine beeped. "It's a place to start. I'll be sifting through it, hopefully have it narrowed down by our meeting."
"Fingers crossed, Dallas," Anne said and signed off.
"Peabody." Eve signaled her aide. "My office."
She sat, tunneled her fingers through her hair, then called up the data Roarke had sent her.
"Sir." Peabody stepped into the room. "I got the reports back on the Cassandra discs. Analysis doesn't show anything. Standard units, no initializations or prints. No way to trace."
"Pull up a chair," Eve ordered. "I've got a list here of potential targets. We'll run a probability scan, try to slim it down."
"How did you generate the list?"
"Mira's take is that we're likely looking for a club or theater. I agree with that. She thinks it's a pretty good bet they'll go for one of Roarke's again."
"Follows," Peabody said after a moment, then sat down next to Eve. And gaped at the list scrolling onscreen. "Man, those are his? He owns all that?"
"Don't get me started," Eve muttered. "Computer, analysis current data, select properties considered landmarks or traditional symbols of New York, and list. Ah, add buildings constructed on historic sites."
Working…
"That's a good call," Peabody said. "You know,
I was in a lot of these places with Zeke. We'd have been even more impressed if we'd known you owned them."
"Roarke owns them."
Task complete, the computer announced with such efficiency Eve eyed it suspiciously.
"Why do you think this thing's working so well today, Peabody?"
"I'd knock wood when I make statements like that, Lieutenant." Peabody's brows drew together as she studied the new list. "That didn't whittle it down by a whole lot."
"That's what he gets for liking old things. The guy has a real obsession for old shit." She let out a breath. "Okay, we're thinking club or theater. Mortals gawking at mortals. Computer, which of this list runs matinees today?"
Working…
"They want people inside," Eve murmured as the computer burped rudely. "Lives lost. Not just a couple of tour groups, not just employees. Why not go for a full house. Impact."
"If you're right, we could still have time enough to stop it."
"Or we could be peeking in the wrong window and some bar downtown blows up. Okay, okay." Eve nodded when the new data emerged. "That's better, that's workable. Computer, copy current list to disk, print hard copy."
Eve checked the time, rose. "Let's get this in to the conference room." She snatched up the hard copy, stared at it. "What the hell is this?"
Peabody looked over her shoulder. "I think it's Japanese. I told you to knock on wood, Dallas."
"Get the damn disc. If it's in Japanese, Feeney can run it through a translator. Out the fucking window," she muttered as she strode from the room. "One of these days, out the fucking window."
