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“Your level of confidence brings a tear of joy to my eye.”
“You’ll be bawling tears if you screw this up,” Eve warned, and, dumping Peabody on the sidewalk, swung back into traffic.
At Central she went straight to Homicide. No need to visit EDD as Peabody would’ve tagged McNab seconds after she hit the sidewalk. She’d go up, confer with Feeney after she had time to check in on her own division and read through more thoroughly the files she’d gotten from the lawyer.
She stepped in, stopped short when she saw her commander. “Sir.”
Commander Whitney nodded, gestured toward her office. “A moment of your time, Lieutenant.”
He was a big man who moved well, who still managed to move like a cop despite his years behind a desk. Command lined his dark, wide face and, she thought, had added the gray to his close-cropped hair.
She stepped in behind him, closed the door.
“Can you spare me some of that coffee?”
“Yes, sir.” She programmed it for him. “I have a meeting with Doctor Mira shortly to consult her on the Minnock investigation.”
“So I read in your report. You’ve come from the victim’s lawyer.”
“Yes, sir. Another college friend. She’s been very cooperative. I have the terms of his estate, will, partnership. It seems very straightforward.”
He nodded again, sat in her visitor’s chair. Eve stayed on her feet.
“The circumstances are . . . bizarre is the word that comes to mind,” he began, and sipped coffee like a man sipping a very fine wine. “And those circumstances are leaking to the media. Too many people knowing too much, and with the circumstances, very juicy fodder.”
She glanced at her ’link, and the rapidly blinking light indicating numerous messages. “I don’t believe we should issue anything but the standard media release at this time. Beyond bizarre there are a number of lines and angles to deal with. We can’t deny the beheading, but I believe it’s necessary to keep as much of the rest as possible under wraps for now.”
“Agreed. If the public gets the idea that this happened as a result of a game, we’d have panic. Every mother’s son and daughter in the city has a gaming system of some sort.”
“I’m concentrating on identifying the weapon, or rather have Peabody and McNab on that. I’m sending them to a games convention in East Washington today.”
“You’ve made two arrests. We’ll use that for now to keep things quiet. I’ve spoken with Captain Feeney. You’ll have as much from EDD as you need—including civilian consultants.” He paused, sipped again.
“Roarke disclosed he knew the victim, and that his own company has a similar game under development.”
“Yes, sir. I conducted a level three on those employees connected to that R&D. I found nothing.”
“Keep it documented, Dallas, and be sure Roarke has clear documentation of when and how this game of his has been developed.”
“Yes, sir.”
He finished his coffee, set it aside. “I’m not here to tell you how to do your job,” he said and rose. “But only to proceed cautiously, and clearly, where the personal overlaps.”
“Understood, Commander. I can ask Roarke to turn over the documentation, so that it’s in our files.”
“He’s already done so, through Feeney.” Now Whitney inclined his head. “He is consulting primarily with EDD, correct, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir. Yes, that would be proper procedure.”
“I’ll let you get back to work.”
Alone, she stewed for a moment. It might have been proper procedure for Roarke to give Feeney the documentation, but he might have told her he’d done it. Of course, he would have told her if she’d asked. Or he probably assumed she’d known he would, or . . . screw it.
She couldn’t stand here trying to decipher the workings of Roarke’s brain when on this point she couldn’t quite decipher her own.
She gave it up and walked out to keep her appointment with Mira.
9
