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Kenneth Stiles, the cantankerous and sly Sir Wilfred, stunned fury on his face, as the realization struck that he’d been used, exploited, manipulated. Eliza’s fussy Miss Plimsoll standing beside him, outraged, her hands gripping the back of Kenneth’s chair, and white to the knuckles.
Areena, the beautiful and multi-faceted Christine, who had sacrificed everything, risked prison, to save the one she loved.
Michael Proctor, merely a shadow, watching from the wings, wondering when he would step into the spotlight and into the role of murderer.
And hovering over all was the ghost of Anja Carvell.
Eve didn’t flinch as she watched murder done, as the knife that should have been harmless plunged deep into the heart.
There, she thought and froze the screen. There it is.
Ten thousand witnesses would have missed it.
Hadn’t she?
The performance of a lifetime, she realized. In death.
“End program,” she ordered. “Eject disc.”
She bagged it, gathered others. She engaged her office link for interdepartmental transmission. “Peabody, alert Feeney and McNab. We’re moving out.”
With a final check of her weapon, she prepared to begin a performance of her own.
• • •
Eve’s driving, Mira observed from the backseat, was a mirror reflection of her personality. Competent, direct, focused. And fierce. As the car whipped through traffic, bulling into gaps, challenging other charging bumpers, Mira quietly checked the tension on her safety harness.
“You’re taking a risk.”
Eve gave a quick glance in the rearview, met Mira’s eyes. “A calculated one.”
“I be
lieve…” Mira trailed off, found herself falling back into childhood prayers as Eve shot into sharp vertical, swung hard to the right, and skimmed crossways over jammed traffic.
“I believe,” she continued when she had her breath back, “you’ve assessed the situation correctly. Still, there’s a wide margin for error, which you could eradicate by adhering to strict procedure.”
“If I’m wrong, it’s on me. Either way, the person who killed Draco and Quim will be in custody by the end of day.”
The car dove into an underground parking tunnel, barely slacking speed. It winged like an arrow from a bow toward a reserved slot. Mira’s mouth came open, she made some small sound, as they roared toward the security barricade. Eve flipped down her visor to display her ID pass.
Mira would have sworn the barricade emitted a terrified squeal as it leaped clear. They nipped under it, tucked into the narrow slot.
“Well,” Mira managed. “Well. That was exciting.”
“Huh?”
“It occurs to me, Eve, I’ve never done a ride-along with you. I begin to see why.”
Peabody snorted, shoved open her door. “Take my word, Dr. Mira, that was a leisurely drive around the park.”
“Something wrong with my driving?”
“Not that a case of Zoner wouldn’t cure,” Peabody said under her breath.
“In any case.” Mira stepped out of the car, drew Eve’s attention away from her aide. “I’m pleased you asked me to be here. Not only because I might be useful, but it gives me an opportunity to observe how you work in the field.”
“You’re going to have to stay out of the thick.” Eve left her car in the secured slot Roarke had arranged, started out to the street and the theater.
