Immortal in Death

CHAPTER NINE

"Why you wanna give me grief, Dallas?"

Huddled in his lab coat, Chief Tech Dickie Berenski – Dickhead to those who knew and loathed him – tested a strand of pubic hair. He was a meticulous man, as well as a monster pain in the ass. Though notoriously slow in testing, his batting average in court was high enough to make him the MVP of the police and security lab.

"Can't you see I'm buried here? Jesus." With his fussy spider fingers he adjusted the focus on his micro-goggles. "Got us ten homicides, six rapes, a load of suspicious and unattended deaths, and too many B and Es to think about. I'm not a fucking robot."

"Closest thing to," Eve muttered. She didn't like coming to the lab with its antiseptic air and white walls. It was too much like a hospital, or worse, Testing. Any cop who used maximum force resulting in termination was required to undergo Testing. Her experiences with that particular intrusive routine hadn't been pleasant. "Look, Dickie, you've had plenty of time to analyze the substance."

"Plenty of time." He pushed back from the counter, and his eyes behind the goggles were big and bold as an owl's. "You and every other cop in the city figures your shit's a priority. Like we should drop every other thing and devote every minute to you. You know what happens when the temperature rises, Dallas? People go bat shit, that's what happens. All you gotta do is take them down, but me and my team, we gotta shift through every hair and fiber. It takes time."

His voice shifted into whine and set Eve's teeth on edge. "I've got Homicide breathing down my neck, and Illegals snapping at my heels over some goddamn bag of powder. You got the prelim."

"I need the final."

"Well, I haven't got it." His flappy lips pouted as he turned back and brought the enhanced view of the hair on screen. "I gotta finish DNA on this."

Eve knew how to work him. She didn't like it, but she knew. "I've got two box-seat tickets to the Yankee-Red Sox game tomorrow."

His fingers moved slowly over the controls. "Box seats?"

"Third-base side."

Dickie tipped down his goggles to scan the room. Other techs were busy at their stations. "Maybe I could get you a little more." With one shove of his feet, he sent his chair sliding to the right until he faced another screen. Cautious, he engaged the keyboard and brought the file up manually. He tapped slowly, scanning the screen. "Here's the problem, see? This element here."

It was nothing but color and foreign symbols to Eve, but she grunted as the data scrolled. The unknown, she imagined, that even Roarke's unit couldn't identify. "That red thing?"

"No, no, no, that's a standard amphetamine. You find it in Zeus, in Buzz, in Smiley. Hell, you can get a mild derivative of that in any over-the-counter pep-up. This one." He tapped a finger against a green squiggle.

"Okay, what is it?"

"That's the big question, Dallas. Never seen it before. The computer can't identify. My best guess is it's something from off planet."

"That ups the stakes, doesn't it? Bringing an unknown from off planet can get you twenty years in maximum lockup. Can you tell what it does?"

"I'm working on it. It appears to have some of the same properties as an antiaging drug, and with some of the same energizers. It beats hell out of free radicals. But there's some nasty side effects when it's mixed with the other chemicals found in the powder. You got most of it in the report. Enhanced sexual drive, which is not a bad thing, but that's followed by violent mood swings. Increased physical strength hooked up to a lack of control. This shit really dances around in the old nervous system. You're going to feel terrific for a while, practically invulnerable, you'll want to fuck like a rabbit, but you won't much care if your chosen mate is interested. When the crash comes, it's going to be hard and fast and the only thing that's going to level you out is another dose. Keep taking it, keep flying up and diving down, and the nervous system's going to go nutso. Then you die."

"That's pretty much what you've given me already."

"That's because I'm stuck on Element X. It's vegetation, I can tell you that. Similar to the sharpleaf valerian found in the Southwest. Indians used the leaves for healing. But valerian isn't toxic, and this is."

"It's poison?"

"Taken alone and in sufficient dosage, it would be, yeah. So are a lot of herbs and plants used in medicine."

"It's a medicinal herb."

"I didn't say that. It's not yet identified." He puffed out his cheeks. "But it's likely some off planet hybrid. That's the best I've got right now. And you and Illegals hassling me isn't going to make me find the answer quicker."

"This isn't an Illegals case, it's mine."

"Tell them that."

"I will. Now, Dickie, I need the toxicology on the Pandora homicide."

"That's not my baby, Dallas. That was dumped on Suzie-Q, and it's her twenty-four hours off."

"You're chief tech, Dickie, and I need the report." She waited a beat. "There are two locker room passes that go along with those box seats."

"Yeah. Well, it never hurts to spot-check your team." He keyed in his code, then the file. "She secured it, good for her. Chief Tech Berenski, override security on File Pandora, ID 563922-H."

VOICE PRINT VERIFIED.

"Display toxicology."

TOXICOLOGY TESTS STILL IN PROGRESS. PRELIMINARY RESULTS ON SCREEN.

"She'd been drinking a lot," Dickie murmured. "Top French bubbly. Probably died happy. Looks like Dom, '55. That's good work for Suzie-Q. Added a little happy powder to it. Our dead girl liked to party. Looks like Zeus… No." His shoulders bowed in as they did when he was intrigued or irritated. "What the hell is this?"

When the computer started to detail elements, he cut it off with an annoyed flick of the finger and began to run the report manually. "Something mixed up here," he muttered. "Something screwy."

His fingers played over the controls like those of a well-trained pianist giving his first recital. Slow, cautious, and accurate. Dallas watched symbols and shapes form, disperse, realign. And she, too, saw the pattern.

"It's the same." Eyes steely, she looked over at the silent Peabody. "It's the same stuff."

"I didn't say that," Dickie interrupted. "Shut up and let me finish running this test."

"It's the same," Eve repeated, "right down to that green squiggle of Element X. Question, Peabody, what do a high-powered model and a second-rate weasel have in common?"

"They're both dead."

"You've answered part one correctly. Care to try for part two and double your winnings? How did they both die?"

The faintest of smiles flitted around Peabody's mouth. "Beaten to death."

"Now for the grand prize and part three. What connects these two seemingly unrelated murders?"

Peabody looked down at the screen. "Element X."

"We're on a roll, Peabody. Transmit that report to my office, Dickie. Mine," she repeated when he glanced up at her. "Illegals calls, you don't know any more than you knew before."

"Hey, I can't bury data."

"Right." She turned on her heel. "I'll have those tickets delivered by five."

"You knew," Peabody said as they took the sky glide to the Homicide sector. "Back at the victim's apartment. You couldn't find the box, but you knew what was in it."

"Suspected," Eve corrected. "A new blend, one she was proprietary about, increased sexual performance and strength." She checked her watch. "I got lucky. Working on both cases at the same time, having them both on my mind. I worried I was just overlapping, but then I started to wonder. I saw both bodies, Peabody. There was the same overkill, the same viciousness."

"I don't think it was luck. I was in on both of them, too, and I was six steps behind the whole way."

"You catch up fast." Eve stepped off the glide to take the elevator to her level. "Don't beat yourself up over it, Peabody. I've got more than double your time on the job."

Peabody stepped into the glass tube, gave a disinterested glance at the city below as they climbed. "Why did you bring me in on these?"

"You've got potential – brains and guts. That's what Feeney told me when he brought me in under him. That was Homicide, too. Two teenagers hacked to death and strewed over the skyramp at Second and Twenty-fifth. I stumbled along about six paces behind him, too. But I found my rhythm."

"How'd you know you wanted Homicide?"

Eve stepped out of the tube, turned down the corridor toward her office. "Because death's an insult anytime. When somebody hurries it along, that's the biggest insult of all. Let's get a couple of coffees, Peabody. I want to put this all in black and white before I take it to the commander."

"I don't suppose we could actually eat something."

Eve tossed a grin over her shoulder. "I don't know what's in my AutoChef, but…" She trailed off as she walked in and found Casto sitting at her desk, long, denim-clad legs propped up and crossed at the ankles. "Well, Casto, Jake T., you look right at home."

"Been waiting for you, darlin'." He winked at her, then flashed a killer smile at Peabody. "Hi, there, DeeDee."

"DeeDee?" Eve murmured, then walked over to order coffee.

"Lieutenant." Peabody's voice was stiff as iron, but her cheeks were glowing pink.

"It's a lucky man who gets to work with a couple of cops who are not only smart but a joy to look at. Could I get a cup of that, Eve? Strong and black and sweet."

"You can have the coffee, but I haven't got time for a consult. I have some paperwork to see to, and an appointment in a couple of hours."

"I won't keep you." But he didn't shift when she handed him the coffee. "I've been trying to light a fire under Dickhead. The man's slower than a three-legged turtle. You being primary, I figured you could requisition me a sample. I've got a private lab we use now and then. They're quick."

"I don't think we want to take this out of the department, Casto."

"The lab's approved by Illegals."

"I meant Homicide. Let's give Dickie a little more time. Boomer isn't going anywhere."

"Hey, you're in charge. I'd just like to put this one behind me. Leaves a bad taste. Not like this coffee." He closed his eyes, sighed. "My Jesus, woman, where'd you get this? It's gold."

"Connections."

"Ah, that rich fiance of yours, sure." He savored another sip. "A man would be hard pressed to tempt you away with the offer of a cold beer and a taco."

"Coffee's my drink, Casto."

"Can't blame you." He shifted his admiring gaze to Peabody. "How about you, DeeDee? Got a taste for a cold one?"

"Officer Peabody's on duty," Eve said when Peabody was reduced to stammers. "We've got work to do here, Casto."

"I'll let you get to it." He unfolded his legs and stood. "Why don't you give me a call when you go off duty, DeeDee? I know a place that has the best Mexican food this side of the Rio Grande. Eve, you change your mind on letting me rush that sample through, let me know."

"Close the door, Peabody," Eve ordered when Casto sauntered out. "And wipe that drool off your chin."

Appalled, Peabody lifted a hand. Finding her chin dry didn't improve her humor. "That's not funny. Sir."

"Cut out the 'sir.' Anybody who goes around answering to DeeDee loses five points on the dignity scale." Eve dropped down in the seat recently warmed by Casto. "What the hell did he want?"

"I thought he told us clearly enough."

"No, that wasn't enough to bring him over here." She leaned forward, engaged her machine. A quick test of security showed no breaches. "If he was in here, I can't tell."

"Why would he go into your files?"

"He's ambitious. If he could close the case ahead of me, it would look damn good. And Illegals doesn't like to share, anyway."

"And Homicide does?" Peabody said dryly.

"Hell no." She looked up, grinned. "Let's get this report hammered out. We're going to have to request an off world toxicology expert. We better be able to back up the hole we're going to put in the budget."

Thirty minutes later, they were summoned to the office of the chief of police and security.

Eve liked Chief Tibbie. He was a big man with a bold mind and a heart that was still more cop than politician. After the stench the former chief had left behind, the city and the department had needed the kind of brisk, cold air Tibbie brought with him.

But she didn't know what the hell they'd been called in for. Not until she was ushered in and saw Casto and his captain.

"Lieutenant, Officer," Tibbie gestured to chairs. In a strategic move, Eve chose one beside Commander Whitney.

"We have a little squabble to settle," Tibbie began. "We're going to settle it quickly and finally. Lieutenant Dallas, you are primary on the Johannsen and the Pandora homicides."

"Yes, sir, I am. I was called in to confirm identification of Johannsen's body, as he was one of my informants. In the Pandora case, I was called to the scene by Mavis Freestone, who has been charged in that case. Both files are still open and under investigation."

"Officer Peabody is your aide."

"I requested her as my aide and was authorized to attach her to my caseload by my commander."

"Very well. Lieutenant Casto, Johannsen was also one of your informants."

"He was. I was on another case when his body was taken in. I wasn't notified until later."

"And at that time, the Illegals and Homicide departments agreed to cooperate on the investigation."

"We did. However, recent information has come to my attention that puts both of these cases under Illegals jurisdiction."

"They're homicides," Eve interrupted.

"With the link of illegal substances connecting both." Casto's easy smile flashed. "The latest lab report shows that the substance discovered in Johannsen's room was also found in Pandora's system. This substance contains an unknown, and is not yet rated, which under Article Six, Section Nine, Code B, puts all related cases under the investigative head of Illegals."

"Exception to which is granted with such cases that are already under investigation by another department." Eve forced herself to take a deep breath. "My report on these matters will be complete within the hour."

"Exceptions are not automatic, Lieutenant." The Illegals captain tapped his fingertips together. "The simple fact is, Homicide doesn't have the manpower, experience, or the facilities to investigate an unknown. Illegals does. And we don't feel it was in the spirit of cooperation to hold data back from our department."

"Your department and Lieutenant Casto will be copied when my report is complete. These are my cases – "

Whitney lifted a hand before she could spit. "Lieutenant Dallas is primary. If these cases are linked with illegals, they are still homicides, which she has been investigating."

"With respect, Commander," Casto dimmed his smile, "it's well known at Cop Central that you favor the lieutenant, and rightfully so, given her record. We requested this meeting with Chief Tibbie so as to insure a fair judgment on departmental priority. I have more street contacts, and a relationship with merchants and distributors of chemicals. While working undercover, I've gained access to mills, factories, and chem-houses which the lieutenant simply doesn't have. Added to that is the fact that there is a suspect charged with the Pandora homicide."

"A suspect who had absolutely no connection with Johannsen," Eve broke in. "They were killed by the same person, Chief Tibbie."

His eyes remained cool. Any approval or lack thereof was carefully masked. "Is that your opinion, Lieutenant?"

"That's my professional judgment, sir, which I will show cause for in my report."

"Chief, it's no secret that Lieutenant Dallas has a personal interest in the suspect charged." The captain spoke tersely. "It would be natural for her to want to cast a cloud over the case. How can her professional judgment remain clear when the suspect is a close friend?"

Tibbie held up a finger to halt Eve's outburst. "Commander Whitney, your opinion?"

"I will and have relied without qualification on Lieutenant Dallas's judgment. She'll do her job."

"I agree. Captain, I don't much care for disloyalty in the ranks." The reprimand was mild, but the aim deadly. "Now, both departments have a valid point here on priority. Exceptions are not automatic, and we are dealing with an unknown which appears to be involved in at least two deaths. Both Lieutenant Dallas and Lieutenant Casto have exemplary records, and each, I believe, are more than competent to investigate these matters. Do you agree, Commander?"

"Yes, sir, both are excellent cops."

"Then, I suggest they cooperate with each other instead of playing games. Lieutenant Dallas will remain primary, and as such, will keep Lieutenant Casto and his department apprised of any and all progress. Now is that it, or do I have to threaten to cut a baby in two like Solomon?"

"Get that report finished, Dallas," Whitney muttered as they filed out. "And next time you bribe Dickhead, do a better job of it."

"Yes, sir." Eve glanced down at the hand on her arm, looked up at Casto.

"Had to give it a shot. The captain, he likes those clutch RBIs."

She didn't miss his not-so-subtle reference to baseball. "No problem, since I'm still the one up at bat. You'll get my report, Casto."

"Appreciate it. I'll do some more poking around on the streets. So far, nobody knows anything about a new blend. But this off planet angle might open something up. I know a couple drones in Customs who owe me."

Eve hesitated, then decided it was time to take the term cooperation to heart. "Try Stellar Five for a start. Pandora came back from there a couple of days before she died. I still have to backtrack and see if she did any station hopping."

"Good. You let me know." He smiled and the hand that was still on her arm slid down to her wrist. "I got a feeling, now that we've aired this out, we'll make a hell of a team. Closing this one up's going to look good on both of our files."

"I'm more interested in finding a murderer than I am in how it affects my promotion status."

"Hey, I'm all for justice." His dimple winked. "But I ain't going to cry if making it pushes me closer to a captain's salary. No hard feelings?"

"No. I'd have done the same."

"That's fine then. I might just drop around for some more of the coffee one day soon." He gave her wrist a quick squeeze. "And, Eve, I hope you clear your friend. I mean that."

"I will clear my friend." He'd taken two strides away when she admitted she couldn't resist. "Casto?"

"Yeah, darling?"

"What'd you offer him?"

"Dickhead?" The grin was as wide as Oklahoma. "A case of unblended scotch. He snatched at it the way a frog's tongue snatches a fly." Casto flicked his own tongue out, winked again. "Nobody bribes better than an Illegals cop, Eve."

"I'll remember that." Eve stuck her hands in her pockets, but couldn't help but grin. "He's got style, I'll give him that."

"And a great butt," Peabody said before she could stop herself. "Just an observation."

"One I have to agree with. Well, Peabody, we won that battle. Let's go try for the war."

By the time the report was complete, Eve's eyes were all but crossed. She sent Peabody off duty as soon as copies were transmitted to all necessary parties. She considered canceling her session with the shrink, thought of all the reasons why she could and should postpone it.

But she found herself in Dr. Mira's office at the appointed time, taking in the familiar scents of herbal tea and subtle perfume.

"I'm glad you came to see me." Mira crossed her silk-draped legs. She'd had her hair restyled, Eve noted. It was cut short and sleek rather than tucked up in a smooth roll. The eyes were the same, of course, quiet and blue and filled with ready understanding. "You look well."

"I'm fine."

"I can't see how you would be, with so much going on in your life. Professionally and personally. It must be tremendously difficult for you to have such a close friend charged with a murder you're investigating. How are you handling it?"

"I'm doing my job. By doing it, I'll clear Mavis and find out who set her up."

"Do you find your loyalties divided?"

"No, not after I thought about it." Eve rubbed her hands on the knees of her trousers. Damp palms were a usual side effect of her meetings with Mira. "If I had any doubt, any doubt at all that Mavis was innocent, I'm not sure what I would do. But I don't, so the answer's clear."

"That's a comfort to you."

"Yeah, you could say that. I'll feel a hell of a lot more comfortable after I close the case and she's out of it. I guess I was worried when I made the appointment to see you. But I feel more in control now."

"That's important to you. Feeling in control."

"I can't do my job unless I know I have the wheel."

"And in your personal life?"

"Shit, nobody grabs the wheel from Roarke."

"He's running things then?"

"He would if you let him." She gave a short laugh. "He'd probably say the same about me. I guess we do a lot of juggling for the controls, end up heading in the same direction anyway. He loves me."

"You sound surprised."

"Nobody ever did. Not like this. It's easy to say, for some people. The words. But it's not just words with Roarke. He sees inside me, and it doesn't matter."

"Should it?"

"I don't know. I don't always like what I see there, but he does. Or at least he understands it." And now Eve understood that this was what she'd needed to talk through. Those black, ragged edges inside her. "Maybe it's because we both had lousy beginnings. We knew, when we should have been too young to know, how cruel people can be. How power doesn't just corrupt in the wrong hands, it mutilates. He – I never made love before him. I had sex, but I never felt anything but basic release. But I could never be… intimate," she decided. "Is that the word?"

"Yes, I think that's exactly the word. Why do you think you achieved intimacy with him?"

"He wouldn't have it any other way. Because he…" She felt her eyes begin to tear and blinked them dry. "Because he opened something inside me I'd closed off. No, that had been scarred shut. Somehow, he took control of that part of me, or I let him have control of that part of me that died. That was killed when I was a child when…"

"You'll feel better if you say it, Eve."

"When my father raped me." She let out a shuddering breath and the tears didn't matter any longer. "He raped me, and he violated me, and he hurt me. He used me like a whore when I was too small and too weak to stop him. He would hold me down, or tie me up. He would hit me until I could hardly see, or he would hold his hand over my mouth so that I couldn't scream. And he would push himself into me, and ram himself into me until the pain was almost as obscene as the act. And there was no one to help me, and nothing to do but wait for the next time."

"Do you understand that you weren't to blame?" Mira asked gently. When an abscess was finally lanced, she thought, one had to carefully, thoroughly, slowly, squeeze out all the poison. "Not then, not now, not ever?"

Eve used the back of her hand to wipe her cheeks dry. "I wanted to be a cop. Because cops have control. They stop the bad guys. It seemed simple. After I was a cop for a while, I began to see that there are some who always prey on the weak and the innocent." Her breath steadied. "No, it wasn't my fault. It was his, and the fault of the people who pretended not to see or to hear. But I still have to live with it, and it was easier to live with it when I didn't remember."

"But you've been remembering for a long time, haven't you?"

"Bits and pieces. Everything before I was found in the alley when I was eight was just bits and pieces."

"And now?"

"More pieces, too many pieces. And it's clearer, closer." She rubbed a hand over her mouth, deliberately lowered it to her lap again. "I can see his face. I didn't used to be able to see his face. During the DeBlass case last winter – I guess there were enough similarities there to click. Then there was Roarke, and it all started to come back clearer and faster. I can't stop it."

"Is that what you want?"

"I'd wipe those eight years out of my mind if I could." She said it viciously, felt it viciously. "They have nothing to do with now. I don't want them to have anything to do with now."

"Eve, as horrible as those eight years were, and as obscene, they formed you. They helped build your strength, your compassion for the innocent, your complexity, your resilience. Remembering, and dealing with those memories, won't change what you are. I've often recommended you agree to autohypnosis. I no longer do. I believe your subconscious is letting these memories surface at its own pace."

If that were so, Eve wanted the pace to slow, to let her breathe. "Maybe there are some things I'm not ready to remember. Still, it doesn't stop. There's a dream that keeps coming back. Just lately and constantly. There's a room, a filthy room with this dull red light blinking in the window. Off and on. There's a bed. It's empty, but it's stained. I know it's blood. A lot of blood. I see myself curled in the corner on the floor. There's more blood. I'm covered with it. I can't see my face, it's toward the wall. I can't see clearly at all, but it has to be me."

"Are you alone?"

"I think so. I can't tell. I only see the bed, the corner, and that light blinking off and on. There's a knife on the floor beside me."

"There weren't any stab wounds on you when you were found."

Eyes hollow and haunted lifted to Mira's. "I know."