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“No, thanks. Just Mina McKensie.”
“Of course.”
He moved to the curve of stairs and walked up.
She’d know, Eve thought. She’d know as soon as the droid said the cops were downstairs. There’d be a desperate glimmer of hope, but she’d know.
Eve caught the movement, looked up. Mina hadn’t dressed as yet, and wore a full-length cream-colored robe, silk and fluid. On her face – an arresting face of sultry eyes against golden skin – Eve saw the hope fighting to overcome the grief.
Her hands whitened at the knuckle on the rail as she came quickly down.
“Dorian. Please, say it quickly. Say it fast.”
“Ms. McKensie, we regret to inform you your son was killed.”
She held up both hands as if she could shove the words away, lowered as carefully as an invalid into a chair of lipstick red.
“You’re sure it’s Dorian. You’re absolutely sure?”
“Yes, we’re sure. We’re sorry for your loss.”
“??‘Loss’? That’s such a small word, isn’t it? Most of what you lose, you can replace again. Like a key card or an earring. You just get another. But…”
She rocked herself, gently, gently, while tears swam and shimmered. “I knew. I knew. I knew. When he missed the performance. He would never miss a performance. But I thought, No, it’s just… anything else. Anything else. But he didn’t answer his ’link, and I begged him to just let me know he was all right. He would never cause me to worry. He would never do that. They said, the police, that we had to wait to file a report. Why, why?”
Peabody sat, leaned toward her. “A lot of people, adults, sometimes take a day or two, just need that space.”
“Dorian isn’t like that.”
“I understand, Ms. McKensie.”
“Would it have made a difference?” A rawness in the question, just short of accusation. “If you’d looked sooner, would it have —”
“I don’t think so.” In her gentle way, Peabody took her hand. “I don’t think so, I’m sorry. Can I get you some water, Ms. McKensie?”
“I need…” She closed her eyes, and two tears slid through. “Jarvis, I need a brandy, please.”
“Of course, madam, right away.”
“I need a brandy,” Mina repeated, opening her eyes again. “And I need just a moment. Then I need you to tell me what happened to Dorian. I need you to tell me that, and to tell me where he is so I can go see him. I need to see my son.”
“We’ll arrange that, Ms. McKensie.”
She took the brandy from the droid, brought it to her lips for a long, slow sip. “I won’t fall apart. That’s for a private moment. I won’t fall apart,” she repeated, but her voice shook, and the tears slid down her face. “Tell me what happened to my son.”
“Ms. McKensie, is there anyone I can contact to come and be with you?”
“I don’t need anyone. I need to know.”
“Ms. McKensie.” Eve stepped in, sat on the slick silver table, trained her eyes on the brimming ones. “What I have to tell you is hard. It’s very hard. If there’s someone you trust, you depend on, you might want that person to come and stay with you after I tell you. We spoke to your son’s house droid. Do you want us to activate her, bring her down?”
“Maeve.” Another tear spilled, but she drew in, shook her head. “No, not Maeve, not yet. Ethan. Ethan Chamberlin. My conductor. My lover. I asked him not to stay last night, but…
“Jarvis, please contact Mr. Chamberlin and —”
“It might be better if I spoke with him.” Peabody rose.
“Jarvis, give the officer the information.”
