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“Yeah, but he only splattered himself, and we didn’t catch that one. No point in trying to cheer me up with pigeon eaters.” Despondent herself, Eve pulled out her beeping communicator. “Dallas.”
“Thought you’d want an update,” Morris began. “I’m still running tests, and results in are largely inconclusive.”
“Boy, that sure perks me up.”
“Patience, Dallas, patience.” His face was glowing the way some people glowed when they claimed to have found Jesus, Eve thought.
“What we’ve got here is worthy of a write-up in medical journals across the land. This guy’s brain is fascinating. Like it was under attack from the inside. But there’s no tumor, no mass, no sign of disease as such.”
“But there’s damage. Brain damage.”
“I’ll say. Like someone set microscopic charges inside it. Biff, bam, boom. You know how I likened it to an overinflated balloon?”
“Yeah.”
“Picture this balloon, in an enclosed space, in this case, the skull. Balloon swells, bigger, bigger. Space stays the same. It keeps pushing, expanding, but it’s got no place to go. Pressure builds, builds, builds. Capillaries burst. Ping, ping, ping. Nose bleeds, ear bleeds until . . . Pop!”
“That’s a really pretty image.”
“Poor sucker had to be suffering from major headaches. The Mount Vesuvius of headaches. I’ve sent tissue to the lab for further analysis, and I’m calling in a neurologist.”
“Would this damage have caused his sudden violent behavior?”
“I can’t tell you that, not conclusively. But the pain may have pushed him over the edge. Pain’s nature’s warning system. Ouch, something wrong with me. Enough pain though, can drive you crazy. And, an invasive body such as a tumor in the brain can cause aberrant behavior. This brain was, unquestionably, invaded.”
“By what?”
“The best I can tell you is it looks like some sort of neurological virus. Pinning that down isn’t going to be quick work.”
“Okay, get me what you can when you can.” She clicked off. “Looks like it’s moving out of the area of police problem and into medical problem. We’ll close it up. Subject, suffering from as yet undiagnosed neurological disorder, assaults and kills neighbor, attacks another. Police response results in death of assailant. Trueheart’s just got to hold on through the IAB bullshit.”
“Are you going to let him know the guy was mostly dead before the stun?”
“Yeah, but he should handle IAB first. Whitney’s right. I go standing in front of him, it makes him look weak.”
“He’s not, you know.” Peabody smiled a little. “He’s just . . . pure.”
“Yeah, well, his purity’s a little soiled now, and he’ll probably be better off. We’ll swing into EDD and see if they’ve pinned down the other Purity. I want to tie this up and put it away.”
In his cube, Halloway raged and he sweated and he worked. He didn’t know he was dying, but he knew, he knew damn well he was being abused.
He couldn’t remember, not exactly, why he had this old and crappy data center on his work counter. But he remembered, oh he remembered, the way Feeney had slapped at him, how Feeney had humiliated him.
And McNab, that asshole, breezing up and sneering. Laughing at him behind his back. Laughing right in his face. Why was he the one who always got the plum assignments? Those plums should go to Colleen Halloway’s son, Kevin. And they would if that backstabber McNab didn’t kiss Feeney’s ass every chance he got.
They were holding him down, holding him back. Both of them, he thought as he swiped his forearm over his sweat-drenched face. Trying to ruin him.
They weren’t going to get away with it.
God. God! He wanted to go home, go to bed. He wanted to be alone in his own place, away from this heat, away from this noise, away from the pain.
His vision blurred as he stared down into the guts of the unit Feeney had ordered him to work on.
And he saw McNab’s guts spread out and gleaming under his hands.
Take it down to the gym? He let out a little snort that ended on a sob. Hell with that! Hell with them. He pushed to his feet, closed his hand over his holstered weapon. Drew it.
They’d handle this here and now. Like men.
