Divided in Death

Chapter 9

Eve didn’t see how she could be concerned about total security at this point, but she took the cryptic transmission from Roarke on the odd little ‘link he’d presented to her that morning.

It strapped on the wrist, but she didn’t care for the weight of it, or the absurdity of talking to her sleeve. So she’d stuck it in her jacket pocket, and when it vibrated against her hip, she jolted as if she’d been struck with a laser blast.

“Jesus. Technology is a pain in the-haha-ass.” She yanked it out. “What?”

“That’s hardly a professional greeting, Lieutenant.”

“I’m stalled in traffic. Why don’t these people have jobs? Why don’t they have homes?”

“And some nerve they have being out and about on your streets. I’m on them myself, and about to pick up a package. I need to take it home. I very much want you to see it, so you’ll want to meet me there.”

“What? Why? Goddamn asshole maxibus! I’m driving here. I’m heading to the East Side, if I don’t indulge in a major vehicular accident just to clear the goddamn roads!”

“I’m running that errand for you myself. Come home, Eve.”

“But I-” She snarled at the ‘link when the transmission ended, then in disgust tossed it at Peabody. “It’s gone wonky.”

“No, sir. He cut you off. He wants you to go back to the residence, where he’s bringing Reva Ewing.”

“How do you get that?”

“I watch a lot of spy vids. He must have found something, and he wants to discuss it with you in the most secure location. This is really chilled, you’ve got to admit.”

“Yeah, so chilled, I’ve yet to talk to Morris, or have another look at the bodies. I haven’t booted Dickhead around the lab to see if there’s any forensics that might be useful. And, much as I hate it, I haven’t talked to the media liaison about a spin when we drop charges on Ewing.”

“Those usual routines don’t apply as much when you’re Bonding.”

“Bonding? How am I bonding? I’m not interested in bonding, in fact I dislike bonding intensely.”

“No, no, Bonding. Like Bond, James Bond. You know, ult spy guy.”

“God.” Eve shot down a cross-street, and made it a block before she stalled again. “Why me?”

“I really dig the spy vids, even the old ones. Gadgets and sex and sophisticated quips. You know, Dallas, if Roarke was an actor he could completely play Bond on vid. He’s a total Bond.”

Eve plowed through the light, cast her eyes to heaven. “God, I repeat. Why me?”

She slammed into the house, bared her teeth at Summerset.

“Your associates have arrived. Suitable quarters have been prepared for them. Going by previous experience, I am about to have food supplies completely restocked, with an emphasis on items without any nutritional value whatsoever.”

“And you’re telling me this because, somehow, I look like I give a shit?”

“You are mistress of this house, and responsible for the comfort of your guests.”

“They’re not guests. They’re cops.”

Peabody loitered as Eve charged upstairs. “Is it okay if McNab and I have the room we took last time?”

Summerset’s stony countenance softened with a smile. “Of course, Detective. I’ve arranged it.”

“Mag. Thanks.”

“Peabody!” Eve’s aggrieved voice shot down the stairs. “With me, goddamn it.”

“Bad traffic,” Peabody grumbled. “Terrible mood.”

She had to bolt up the stairs, then streak down the hall to catch up with Eve.

“If you’re going to brown-nose the resident cadaver, do it on your own time.”

“I wasn’t brown-nosing.” But the comment had Peabody’s nose twitching. “I was merely inquiring about my quarters during this operation. Besides, I don’t have to brown-nose Summerset. He likes me.”

“That ascribes to him the capacity for human emotions.” She swung into Roarke’s office, and frowned when she saw him serving coffee to both Reva and Caro. “You might’ve told me you were bringing them here,” she complained, “before I fought my way to the Upper East Side.”

“Sorry for the inconvenience, but here is where we need to be.”

“This is my case, my investigation, my op. I decide where we need to be.”

“This isn’t about authority, Lieutenant. And when your knowledge of electronics meets or exceeds mine, we’ll re-evaluate.” His tone was entirely too pleasant. “In the meantime… coffee?”

“I don’t have time for coffee.”

“Help yourself, Peabody,” he invited, then took Eve’s arm. “If I could have a moment, Lieutenant.”

She let him lead her into her office. She didn’t like it, but she allowed it. Then she blasted him when he’d closed the door. “We need to set some parameters. You’re working in conjunction with EDD. You do not have the authority to transport my suspect, and her mother, whenever and wherever you choose. Your personal feelings for them take a backseat, and if they can’t, you’re out.”

“It was necessary. You’re irritable and annoyed,” he snapped as she started to steam. “Well, so am I. So we can stand here and piss on each other for the next ten minutes, or get on with it.”

She had to take a breath, then two, before she managed to control her temper. He looked ready to brawl. Not that she minded that so much, but she was more interested in why.

“Okay, you are irritable and annoyed. What set you off?”

“If you’d give me a few minutes without crawling up my ass, I’ll show you.”

“I don’t like what I see, ace, I’m crawling right back.”

He stepped back to the door, then turned to her again. “I realize that I have, on occasion, acted in a way that failed to show the proper respect for your authority and your position. That was wrong. Not that it might not happen again, but it was wrong. This isn’t one of those times.”

“It feels like it.”

“That can’t be helped. On the other side, those two women are my employees. Spanking me in front of them demeans my authority and position, Eve.”

“That can’t be helped either. They know you’ve got balls.” She offered a razor-thin smile. “Now they know I’ve got them, too.”

“This isn’t about-” He cut himself off, offered a prayer for patience. “Christ, there’s no point to this. We’ll have a go at each other later.”

“Count on it.” She reached around him and opened the door herself.

Thinking of authority and position, she made sure that she strode through the door first. “You’ve got five minutes,” she told him.

“It shouldn’t take longer. Computer, lock down this room only, for silent running.”

Acknowledged. Commencing silent running.

“What the hell is-” Eve whirled, hand on her weapon, as titanium shields lowered on the windows behind her. Others slid into place over the doors. The lights took on a red cast, and every machine in the room sent out a series of beeps and hums.

“Totally Bond,” Peabody murmured with a big, dazzled grin on her face.

Lockdown complete. Silent running fully engaged.

“In your home office.” Reva got to her feet, walked over to examine the window shields. “A little paranoid, but excellent. Have you equipped the whole house with SR capability? I’d really like to see the-”

“You kids can play with the toys later,” Eve interrupted. “Now I’d like to know why we need them.”

“I ran some tests at Securecomp. Very detailed and exacting tests. They showed traces of a mobile bug.”

“Mobile?” Reva shook her head. “Someone got through security, all the scanners, with a device on their person? That shouldn’t be possible. In fact, it isn’t possible.”

“So I believed, but the device is also very sophisticated. It wasn’t on someone’s person, Reva, but in yours.”

“In? Internal? That’s out of the question. Completely bogus.”

“Then you won’t object to a body scan?”

Her face went hard, her stance combative. “I submit to one every time I go in or out of the damn lab, Roarke.”

“I’ve something a little more sensitive, a little more specific.”

“Go ahead.” Reva threw out her arms. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Computer, open Panel A.”

Acknowledged.

A section of the wall opened. Inside was a small room, hardly bigger than a closet. It held what looked like a high-end drying tube, with clear, rounded sides and a door with no apparent lock. There were no visible controls.

“Something I’ve been working on, on my own,” Roarke said when Reva lifted her eyebrows. “An individual security scanner, higher intensity than what’s on the market currently. It’ll also read vital signs, which will come in handy for evaluating a subject’s state of mind during scan.”

“Is it safe?” Caro had risen, walked over quietly. “I’m sorry, but if it hasn’t been approved, there may be some risk.”

“I’ve used it myself,” he assured her. “It’s quite safe. It’ll feel warm on the skin as it scans,” he told Reva. “Not uncomfortably so, but you’ll notice the change in temperature as it moves from area to area.”

“Let’s just get it done. I’ve got the Truth Testing scheduled today. I’d like a little time between scans and probes if it’s all the same to you.”

“Computer, open scanner.”

Acknowledged.

A door opened on the tube with a little puff of air. At Roarke’s gesture, Reva stepped inside, turned to face the room.

“Begin process on Ewing, Reva, full body, full power on my command. It needs to read and record your height,” he said. “Your weight, your body mass, and so on.”

“Fine.”

“When the door closes, the process should only take a few moments. There’ll be an audio and video readout, if you don’t object.”

“Just do it.”

“Computer, begin.”

The door of the tube closed. The lights inside it turned to a cool blue. Eve listened as Reva’s body statistics were noted. A horizontal red beam rose up from the floor of the tube, slowly traveling up the body, down again. Her various injuries were listed, and the evaluation of healing.

“Excellent.” Reva’s voice sounded hollow through the tube, but she was beginning to grin. Eve could see that most of the temper had drowned in professional fascination. “And thorough. You’re going to need to get this on the market.”

“A few more tweaks,” Roarke said.

Then came a series of red and blue beams, crisscrossing her body, pulsing as they scanned her, section by section from feet to head.

Electronic device located, subdermal, sector two.

“What the hell is it talking about?” Her tone a quick jerk of panic, Reva pressed her hands against the tube. “Where’s section two? This is bullshit.”

Roarke noted the increase in her pulse rate, her blood pressure.

“Let it finish out, Reva.”

“Hurry up. Just hurry up. I want to get out of here.”

“It’s all right, Reva.” Caro spoke softly. “Only a little more, and it’ll be done. Everything’s going to be all right.”

“Nothing’s all right. Nothing’s going to be all right again.”

No secondary device detected. Single electronic device, operable, subdermal, section two. Request command to mark location.

“Do so,” Roarke ordered.

There was a quick hum, a flash. Reva slapped a hand at the back of her neck, as though she’d been stung by a bee.

Eval and scan complete.

“Save and display all data. Release seal, end program.”

The lights in the tube winked off, and the door opened.

“Inside me? Under my skin.” She held her hand cupped over the back of her neck. “How could I not know? I swear to God, I swear I didn’t know.”

“I never thought you did. Sit down now.”

“An internal. It would require a procedure. I haven’t had a procedure. It can’t be there.”

“It is there.” Roarke drew her to a chair, stepped back when Caro sat beside her, took her hand. “Planted there without your knowledge, without your acquiescence.”

“I’d have had to have been unconscious. I haven’t been unconscious.”

“You’ve been asleep, haven’t you?” Eve broke in. “Somebody’s asleep, it’s not hard to give them a little bump with a pressure syringe and take them under. Or to slip something into food or drink so they’d sleep through an implant.”

“I sleep at home, in my own damn bed. The only person who’d be able to pull off something like that would’ve been… Blair,” she finished on a shaky breath. “But that’s crazy. He didn’t know anything about internals or subdermal devices.”

She saw the look Roarke and Eve exchanged. “What is this? What the hell is this?”

“I didn’t tell her, Lieutenant.” Roarke inclined his head. “It wasn’t my place to.”

Eve stepped up to Reva. “You’re going to have to toughen up, because this is going to be a punch in the face.”

She told Reva the way she’d want to be told. Straight, clean, without emotion. She watched her sag, lose color, saw the tears swim into her eyes. But they didn’t fall, and the color came back.

“He… they marked me, as a source for information.” Her voice was hoarse. “To spy, through me, on Securecomp, and possibly other areas of Roarke Industries through my mother. Also…” She paused, cleared her throat and spoke in stronger tones. “It makes sense to assume they were using my connection with the Secret Service, President Foster, and members of her staff I remain friendly with. They would, through this implant, have recorded any and all conversations, professional and personal.”

She took the glass of water Peabody brought over without glancing up. “I have, in my supervisory position at Securecomp, numerous discussions every day with techs, giving directives, receiving status reports. It’s my habit to log my own reports verbally. It helps me to see the progress, or any necessity for a new direction. They’d know everything about my projects, and any I assisted on since they put this thing in me. They were sucking me dry, the two of them. Every day. Every day.”

She looked up at Roarke. “I betrayed you after all.”

“You did not.” Caro’s tone was harsh and impatient. “You were betrayed, and that’s a difficult thing. But feeling sorry for yourself isn’t productive. No one’s blaming you, and blaming yourself at this point is an indulgence you can’t afford.”

“I’m entitled to a little brooding time when I’ve been technologically raped, for God’s sake.”

“Brood later. How do we remove it?” Caro asked Roarke, then shifted her gaze to Eve. “Or do we?”

“I thought about leaving it in. It’s an option, but I’d rather have it out. I’d rather, if anyone’s still listening, that they know we’re onto them. It could bring them to the surface faster.”

“They killed Blair and Felicity, and set me up. Why?”

“The setup? I’d say because you were convenient. As to the hit, I don’t know yet. Maybe it was HSO, maybe it was the other side. Either way, they knew how to get in, how to corrupt data, and how to get you where they wanted you to take the fall. All that took some time and some planning. Either Bissel or Kade, maybe both of them, were marked for termination. When I find out why, I can work from there.”

“We can have the device removed here. I have someone in-house with medical training,” Roarke explained.

“Get it out.” Reva rubbed a hand at the nape of her neck. “I want a look at it.”

“Set it up,” Eve told Roarke. “Reva, you can’t discuss any of this on the outside. Not even with your lawyers. Not yet. But I want you to contact someone in the SS, or on Foster’s staff, whoever you think best. I want them to set up a meet for me with someone in the HSO with enough grease to know about Bissel and Kade. I don’t have time to waste on some office drone. I want someone with juice.”

“I’ll reach out.”

“Good. I’m going to leave the electronics to the people who know what the hell to do about them.” She said this, looking at Roarke. “And I’m going to go do some cop work, if you’ll open this place up again.”

“Computer, end lockdown. Resume normal operations.”

Acknowledged.

“I’ll be a few moments,” Roarke told Reva and Caro, then left them alone to walk out with Eve.

“Peabody, go see how the EDD boys are doing. I’ll catch up with you.”

“Sure.”

Eve turned into her own office ahead of Roarke, slipped her hands in her pockets. “I thought you’d told her about the HSO angle, about the conclusions on Bissel and Kade.”

“I’m aware of that, and aware that you’d have reason to assume it.”

“The assumption factored in to the speed with which I crawled up your ass.”

“Understood.”

“I’m still irritable and annoyed.”

“Well, so am I, so you’ve company.”

“I might still want to have a go at you later.”

“I’ll pencil you in.”

She stepped up to him, and keeping her hands in her pockets, planted a hard kiss on his mouth. “See you,” she said, and strolled out.

Since she didn’t understand what EDD was doing in Roarke’s home lab, she dragged Peabody away, and gave her the task of locating and contacting Carter Bissel while she begged a brief consult with Dr. Mira.

“Your assistant’s starting to hate me,” Eve commented.

“No, she’s just very inflexible about schedules.” Mira programmed her habitual tea and gestured toward her blue scoop chairs.

She’d gone for red today. Not really red, Eve thought. There was probably a name for the color that looked like faded autumn leaves. She wore a trio of necklaces that were little gold balls strung together like pearls, and matched them with minute gold earrings.

The shoes, some sort of textured heels, were the exact color of the dress. Eve could never figure out how women managed that sort of synchronicity-or really, why they bothered.

But it looked good on Mira. Everything did. Her sable hair with its sunny highlights was drawn back today into some sort of twisty knot at the nape. She was letting it grow again.

However Mira dressed or groomed herself, Eve decided she’d always look perfect, and nothing like the standard image of a top profiler and police psychiatrist.

“I assume this has something to do with Reva Ewing’s Truth Test this afternoon, as you requested I handle the test personally.”

“It does. This conversation, any conversation with Ewing, and the results of the test are highest classification. My eyes, yours, and Commander Whitney’s only.”

Mira sipped her tea, pursed her lips. “And what warrants that classification?”

“Global espionage,” Eve said, and told her the rest.

“You believe her.” Mira rose for another cup of tea. “That she was duped, and is innocent of any involvement-deliberate involvement-in the murders and in the background that may have led to them.”

“I do. I expect you to confirm that.”

“And if the results contradict her, and your beliefs?”

“Then she’ll go back into a cage until I figure out why.”

Mira nodded. “She’s agreed to level three. That’s a very difficult process, as you know from personal experience.”

“I got through it, so will she.”

Mira nodded, her gaze on Eve’s face. “You like her.”

“Yeah, probably. But it won’t get in the way. Either way.”

“The murders were very violent, very brutal. One assumes that a government-even covert government-organization would be less so.”

“I don’t assume anything about spooks.”

Mira smiled a little. “You don’t like them.”

“No. The HSO has a file on my father.”

Mira’s smile faded. “I suppose that’s to be expected.”

“They had a field operative monitoring him, and the rooms where we were in Dallas.”

Mira set the cup aside. “They were aware of you? Of what was being done to you, and didn’t intervene?”

“They were aware, it’s in the file. Just like they were aware of what I did to get away. They cleaned up after me, and they let it ride. So no, I’m no fan of the HSO.”

“Whoever gave the order not to intervene when a child’s welfare-her very life-is at stake, should be locked away-like any abuser. This shocks me. After all I’ve seen, heard, all I know, this shocks me.”

“If they could do what they did in Dallas, they could do what was done to Reva Ewing. But this time, they’re not going to get away with it.”

“You’re going public with Ewing.”

“Damn right.”

Eve went back to Homicide, taking the glides rather than the elevator to give herself more time to think about her next steps. It still gave her a quick jolt to walk into the bullpen and see Peabody at a desk instead of a cube.

Since her partner was on the ‘link, Eve went straight into her own office. She locked the door, then climbed onto her desk to reach the ceiling panel, behind which she was currently secreting her personal stash of candy.

She needed a hit. Genuine chocolate, real coffee. All would be right with the world during the ten minutes she took for this personal, and well-deserved, indulgence.

But instead of her cache of candy, there was a single, empty wrapper.

“Son of a bitch!” She nearly snatched the wrapper down with the intention of tearing it into bits. But stopped herself. “We’ll just see about this, you vicious candy thief.”

She hopped down and got her spare field kit. Sealing up, she climbed back on the desk to remove the wrapper with tongs, then set it on a protective surface on her desk.

“You want to play. We’ll play.”

Moments later, the knock on her door earned a snarl.

“Dallas? Lieutenant? Your door’s locked.”

“I know the damn door’s locked. I locked it.”

“Oh. I have information on Carter Bissel.”

Eve rose, kicked the desk, unlocked the door. “Relock it,” she ordered, then sat back at her desk with her tools.

“Sure.” With a shrug, Peabody secured the door. “I contacted-what are you doing?”

“What the hell does it look like I’m doing?”

“Well, it looks as if you’re doing a fingerprint scan on a candy wrapper.”

“Then that’s probably what I’m doing. You contacted Carter Bissel?”

“No, I… Dallas, has a chocolate bar been entered into evidence on this investigation?”

“This is a personal matter. Sealed up,” she muttered. “Bastard sealed up. But that’s not the end of this. I’ve got other ways.”

“Sir, you also appear to have run a fingerprint scan on a ceiling tile.”

“Do you think I’m unaware of what I’m running, Detective? Do I look like I’m in a fugue state?”

“No, you look supremely pissed.”

“Again, your powers of observation are keen and accurate. Congratulations. Fuck it.” She balled the wrapper up, tossed it. “I’ll deal with this later. And I will deal. Carter Bissel. And where’s my coffee?”

“Uh, as you have declined the services of an aide-”

“Oh, bite me.” She shoved away from the desk, stomped to the AutoChef.

“I just wanted the opportunity to say that. But, you know, I don’t mind getting you coffee. You could even get it for me sometimes. Like now, for instance, since you’re right there.”

Eve heaved a huge sigh, and got a second cup.

“Thanks. Okay, Bissel, Carter. I tried the residence, but got no answer. Left a message on his ‘link. Then I tried the bar he’s listed as owning, and tagged his partner, Diesel Moore. Moore went into a rant and jive the minute I asked about Bissel. Says he wants to find him, too, and called him several uncomplimentary names. He claims Bissel left him high and dry nearly a month ago, and skimmed out of the till. Moore claims to be in dire financial straits. He waited, assuring himself Bissel would come back with an explanation, but that hasn’t happened. He filed charges yesterday.”

“You verify?”

“Yep. Local authorities are looking for Bissel, and have no record of him leaving the island. Could’ve taken a boat or a seaplane, island-hopped. They’re looking into it, but not very hard. He only skimmed a couple thousand, and part of that would be his due. Also, he has a history of taking off for short periods of time without warning or explanation.”

“They check his place?”

“Affirmative. It appears some of his clothes may be missing, and a few personal items, but there’s no sign of struggle, foul play, or, for that matter, evidence that he was planning a long trip.”

“A month ago, Felicity Kade made a trip to Jamaica. Just what did she and Carter Bissel have to talk about, I wonder?”

“Maybe she was looking to recruit him, too.”

“Or maybe she was looking for another goat. I think we should take another look at the crime scene.”

Her desk ‘link beeped, and she tossed the ceiling tile aside. “Dallas.”

Dispatch, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. See the officer at 24 West Eighteenth Street. Unattended death. Single victim, female. Identification verified as McCoy, Chloe.

“Acknowledged. Responding. Dallas, out.”