Origin in Death (21 page)

The copter was big, black, sleek as a panther. It stirred the air-and Eve smelled rain in it-then set down on the pad. It didn't surprise her to see Roarke at the controls. It barely irritated.

He flashed a smile as she climbed aboard. "Hello, Lieutenant."

"What a ride!" Louise was already unstrapping from the copilot's seat to move rear. "I'm inappropriately excited about this whole business."

"Then sit with McNab," Eve ordered. "And the two of you can giggle all the way. Just why are you and Louise included in this?"

"Because it's my copter-and," he added, "we can give you a rundown on our trip to the center on the way."

"Something definitely off there," Louise called up as Feeney and McNab stowed equipment.

"Mmm, plush." Reo rubbed a hand over the arms of her chair, the.-. shrugged at Eve's narrowed look. "If she can be inappropriate, so can I. Cher Reo, APA," she said and offered Louise her hand.

"Louise Dimatto, M.D."

"Eve Dallas, AK. Ass-kicker. Strap in," Eve ordered. "Let's move.

"Ladies, gentlemen, the air's a bit rough so you'll want to keep your seats until it smooths out." Roarke tapped controls, waited for his screen to show him air clearance. Then he boosted the copter into a straight vertical that had Eve's stomach rolling over and pitching toward Ninth Avenue.

"Shit, shit, shit." She muttered it under her breath, then sucked in air and braced. The copter punched forward, slapping her back. The first drops of rain splattered the windshield, and she prayed, sincerely, that she wouldn't boot her morning bagel.

She heard McNab's delighted "Yee-haw!" as they streaked, shook, and scooped through the sky. She imagined choking the life out of him to take her mind off what she was doing.

"Peabody, before we get official, let me say your hair is charming."

"Oh." She colored a little as she lifted a hand to the new, flippy ends. "Really?"

"Absolutely." Roarke heard Eve's low growl beside him. "Avril Icove, as acting CEO, met us in her father-in-law's office."

"What?" Eve's eyes-she didn't remember squeezing them shut- popped open. "What?"

He'd known that would distract her from her fear and queasiness. "She's acting CEO, until the board designates a successor, and arranged to meet with us privately. She claims not to be a businesswoman, nor to have any desire to become one. I believed her. She also asked that if I had any plans to buy up a controlling interest in Unilab or the Center, that I give the facility a window of time to recover from the loss of its two main spearheads."

"She seemed sincere." Louise leaned forward against her safety straps. "The controlled grief seemed equally sincere. She also, diplomatically, spoke of believing the Center would benefit from someone with Roarke's skills and vision."

"You figured she'd be willing to see you take over?"

"I do." Roarke adjusted for the turbulence. "She has no medical or business training. But I doubt her board would be as amenable, which is why she met us privately. Develop a relationship, a foundation, with the general before the coup."

"But she needs time so she can get what she needs out of it, or cover it up, or break it down. What the hell does she want?"

"That I can't tell you, but the COO, a Brookhollow alumni, was very careful about the areas we toured."

"If you're taking it at face value, the privacy obsession might not make you blink," Louise explained. "But if you're looking for undercurrents, it leads to all manner of questions."

"Particularly the hidden cameras in exam and procedure areas."

Eve measured Roarke. "If they were hidden, how do you know they're there?"

He gave her a look caught between smug and pitying. "Because, Lieutenant, I happened to have a sensor with me."

"How'd you get it through security?

"Perhaps because this particular canny device looks like, and reads like, a simple memo book. In any case, every area we toured had them, and they were active during our visit. You're going to find, at the center, a substantial subsecurity and data sector."

"Then there was the lab," Louise put in. "Architecturally interesting, elaborate, superbly equipped. And remarkably inefficient."

"How?"

Louise explained the setup while rain slapped the windscreen. "You might have different security levels," she continued. "You might have separate floors or tiers for specific areas of research and testing. You would certainly, on sensitive work, require high clearance. But this setup had no logical flow."

"Separate clearance required for every ray," Eve repeated.

"Exactly. And a separate chief, each completely isolated from the other lines."

"Standard security cams in view," Roarke added. "An equal number hidden for area scans. And, most interesting, every station fed data into its hub. Not results, but every step, every byte of data."

Eve thought of the police lab. The chief tech could access any sector, review and/or study any test in progress. But the place was like a hive, a maze of rooms, glass walls. While some sectors required high clearance, most areas connected with the busy bees buzzing not only in their own chambers but in others as well.

"Keep each line focused on its work. Limit or eliminate fraternizing and shop talk. Deny access to all but the top level. Not inefficient if you want to keep dicey stuff wrapped."

She rolled it around in her head, then peered through the rain. "There'd be room there to close off a sector from the rest. Room for ... what do you call the having-a-baby area of medicine."

"Obstetrics," Louise answered.

"The patient room I saw was like a high-end hotel suite. So maybe you keep your human incubators in-house, in style, segregated from the general population. Peabody, run a list. See what graduates got themselves medical degrees-highlight obstetrics and pediatrics."

"Warrant's coming through." Reo had a small, bulky briefcase unit in her lap. As it started to hum, her face brightened. "We're good to go."

"Need to practice, though," Eve mumbled. "Practice makes perfect. School's all about practice. Gotta have something going there."

"Hopefully, we'll soon see." Roarke tapped controls. "Starting descent."

She saw it shimmer out through the damp mists and splattering rain. Red brick and domes and sky walks. Stone walls and denuded trees. The dull blue of a swimming pool covered for the season, the bright green and white of tennis courts. Paths snaked through the gardens and grounds, for scooters, she thought, for walks or bikes or mini-shuttles. She saw horses, and to her shock what she recognized as cows in an outdoor enclosure.

"Cows. Why are there cows?"

"Animal husbandry, I imagine," Roarke commented.

The term gave her a horror flash of humans marrying bovines. She shook it off.

"Cops. We've got cops. Three units, and an ME van. Goddamn it."

Not state, she decided, trying to get a bead on the vehicles and uniforms as Roarke angled toward the helipad. County, she decided. Probably county. She yanked out her PPC and did a quick search for the local police.

"James Hyer, sheriff. Age fifty-three, born and bred this county. Did four years regular army, right out of school. Had the badge twenty years, current status the last twelve. Married eighteen years, one offspring, male-a Junior-age fifteen."

She studied his ID image as well as his basic data to try to get a bead on him as well. Fleshy face, ruddy. Maybe liked the outdoors and the local brew. Military haircut, light brown. Eyes light blue, plenty of crow's-feet. So he didn't go in for the face treatments, looked his age and maybe a few extra.

She was already yanking off her safety strap as Roarke touched down. She was out, striding toward the school before the two uniforms were able to reach the pad.

"This is a secured area," one of them began. "You're going to need to-"

"Lieutenant Dallas." Eve flipped up her badge. "NYPSD. I need to speak with Sheriff Hyer. Is he on-scene?"

"This isn't New York." The second uniform stepped forward- leading, Eve thought dryly, with his balls. "The sheriff's busy."

"That's funny, so am I. APA Reo?"

"We have a warrant to enter any and all of these facilities," Reo began, and held up the copy she'd printed out. "To search same for evidence pertaining to two homicides in the State of New York, borough of Manhattan."

"We have a secured scene," the second uniform repeated, an; planted his feet.

"Name and rank," Eve snapped.

"Gaitor, Deputy, James County Sheriffs Department." He sneered when he said it, and Eve allowed him to keep his skin, due to the possibility that he was just dirt stupid.

"You're going to want to check with your superior, Deputy Gaitor, or I will detain you and charge you with obstruction of justice."

"You don't have any authority here."

"This warrant gives me authority to fill out its terms and requirements, which were agreed to by the State of New Hampshire. So you're going to contact your boss, Gaitor, within the next ten seconds, or I'm going to take you down, cuff you, and toss your idiotic, puffed-up ass in the nearest confinement facility."

She saw it in his eyes, saw the twitch of his hand. "You reach for that weapon, Deputy, and you won't have use of your hand for a week. But you won't need it as I'll have twisted your undersized dick into a pretzel so even the thought of jerking off will cause you unspeakable pain."

"Jesus, Max, ease back." The first deputy took his fellow by the arm. "I contacted the sheriff, Lieutenant. He's coming out. We can walk over and meet him."

"Appreciate it."

"I love watching her work," Roarke commented to Feeney.

"Was kind of hoping that asshole would reach for his weapon. Better show that way."

"Maybe next time."

Gaitor strode ahead, intercepting a man Eve recognized as Hyer. Hyer listened, shook his head. Then he pulled off his hat, rubbed his hand over his head before jabbing a finger toward one of the patrol cars.

Gaitor peeled off, stiff-legged. Hyer walked toward Eve.

"What's New York doing dropping out of the sky in that big, black son of a bitch?"

"Search warrant, relating to two homicides on my turf. Lieutenant Dallas," she added, offering a hand. "Homicide, NYPSD."

"Jim Hyer, sheriff. And ain't this a kick in the gonads? You threaten to manhandle and detain my deputy, New York City?"

"I did."

"I'm betting he earned it. Got us a hell of a thing here. School president found dead as a split trout inside her private quarters."

"That would be Samuels, Evelyn?"

"It would."

"And would cause of death be stabbing? Single wound, medical scalpel, to the heart."

His eyes leveled, considered hers. "That would be one hundred percent correct. Gonna have to get you a stuffed ladybird as your prize this afternoon. We going to do some tit for tat here, New York City?"

"No problem for me. Peabody? My partner, Detective Peabody. I have with me the captain of our EDD sector and an EDD detective, two doctors, an APA, and an expert consultant, civilian. We'll be at your disposal on your homicide, Sheriff, and will share the data that will link yours to ours."

"Can't ask for better than that. You want to see the body, I expect."

"I do. If the rest of my team can be shown where to wait, my partner and I will take a look at your scene."

"Freddie, take care of these nice tourists. It's the damnedest thing." he continued as they walked toward the main building of the Academy. "Victim had an appointment with some rich woman from out of state. Witness statements-those we've taken so far-and security cameras show them doing a quick tour, then going into the victim's quarters. Refreshments were ordered prior and already in place. Eleven minutes later, the woman walks out, shuts the door, strolls out of the building and into the car she came with. Driver heads out, and they're gone."

He snapped a finger. "We got the vehicle, make, model, and its plates from the cameras. Duly registered in the name of the woman. We got her cold on the discs. Name of Desiree Frost."

"It'll be bogus," Eve told him.

"Is that a fact?"

Schools never failed to give Eve the jitters, but she walked with Hyer across the great hall. It was silent as a tomb.

"Where do you have the students, the staff?"

"Moved the whole kit and caboodle to the theater in another building. They're secure."

They walked up the wide steps, stopped at the doorway of the scene Eve saw, with some relief, that the body had not yet been moved. Inside were three people, two still wearing the protective suits of crime scene and the third examining the body.

"What we got here is Dr. Richards, our local ME, and Joe and Billy-they're forensics."

Eve nodded to them as she and Peabody sealed up. "Any problem if we record this?"

"Not for me," Hyer said.

"Record on. Let's get started."

Chapter Thirteen

WHEN  EVE  COMPLETED  HER  EXAMINATION  OF the scene and the body, she stepped back out. "I'd like my EDD team to run the electronics. And I'd like my civilian consultant to take a look at the scene."

"You going to tell me why?"

"I have two victims, male, who were killed by the same method. Those victims have an association with this institution."

"You're talking about the Icoves."

Impatience rippled through her. "If you know, why are you wasting my time?"

"Just want to hear your angle. I see a body get that way by the same method used to kill two prominent doctors in New York, it gets me thinking. And I recall the picture flashed on of the suspect, and she's a pretty young thing. I got a pretty young thing as my prime, too. Don't look like the same pretty young thing, so maybe there's more than one. Or maybe if I run those two images through the computer for a match, they will. So why does some woman-or women-who wants two city doctors dead come all the way out here to kill the head of a girls' school?"

"We have reason to believe the killer or killers attended this institution."

Hyer glanced back inside. "Must've been damn unhappy with her grade point average."

"School's a bitch. You've been sheriff a number of years. How many times have you been called out here?"

He had a thin mouth, but there was considerable charm in it when it curved up slow. "This would make one. Been out off duty plenty of times. The theater puts on plays three, four times a year. Open to the public. My wife likes that kind of thing. And they have a garden tour every spring. She usually drags me to that."

"Does it seem odd to you that in all this time, you never got a call about some homesick kid climbing over the wall. Or a theft, an unattended death, vandalism."

"Maybe it has. But I can't come out and complain they're not making trouble."

"You ever know of one of the girls hooking up with a local boy, or going into town and getting into trouble?"

"Nope. They don't go in, and yeah, I figured it odd. Enough that when my wife dragged me out here, I poked around a little, asked some questions. Nothing to go on," he said with another glance around. "Nothing but a gut thing, you get me?"

"Yeah, I get you."

"But it's a snooty school and we're small change, so there's nothing I can pin that gut thing on. Now, there's been a few times some of the young boys tried to get in, over the wall, over the gate. That's natural enough. Security picks them up before they get on the grounds. I'm giving, New York," he added. "I don't feel like I'm getting."

"I'm sorry. I can't tell you much. I'm under Code Blue."

Now his eyes widened. "That's higher than I expected."

"I can tell you we have strong reasons to believe that there's more going on here than education. Your gut's not wrong, Sheriff. I need to let my team loose. I need to see the security discs and the student records. I need to interview witnesses."

"Give me something more. Show of faith."

"Wilfred Icove was murdered by a woman who attended this institution and subsequently vanished. There are no records of her after that date, and no missing persons was filed. We believe her official data was fabricated, by or with the knowledge of her victim. We believe she killed, or had a part in killing Wilfred Icove, Jr. And that she and an accomplice just dumped this homicide in your lap. This school is the breeding ground for that. I don't think she's finished. I think there's data here that will help us both. I'll give you everything I'm authorized to give. And when I'm able to give you more, you'll get that, too."

"You think this place is some sort of cult?"

"Not that simple. I've got two doctors with me. They could examine some of the students. One is a licensed counselor. She could help them with the trauma of the situation."

"They got doctors and counselors on staff."

"I'd like ours to handle it."

"All right."

"Thanks. Peabody, brief the team. You can help Sheriff Hyer with the ID match shortly. Have Roarke meet me at the scene in ten."

She studied the security vid. It was a good alteration, Eve decided. The hair was so bold, it drew the eye, and the face was fuller. Softer. Cooler skin tone, different eye color. Shape of the mouth, too. Must've used an appliance for that.

"It's her," Eve said. "If you weren't expecting her, if you weren't looking, you wouldn't make her. She's good. You'll want to run the program to be sure-and you've got her hands, her ears-but that's her."

Or maybe one of her, Eve thought. How could she be sure?

"Vic doesn't make her," Eve added. "It's all.. ."

She trailed off, staring as Diana Rodriguez came down the stairs on the vid.

What was it like, she wondered, to see yourself walking toward you. The child you were.

She thought of herself at that age. A loner, marking time, with so many wounds under the mask it was a wonder she hadn't bled to death.

She'd been nothing like this beautiful young girl who stopped and appeared to speak politely to the older women. Nothing near as poise; nothing near as confident.

Eve swallowed the exclamation when she saw Deena's and Diana's eyes meet.

She knows. The kid knows.

And she watched them each glance back as they walked in opposite directions and thought: Not just knows. Understands. Approves.

Well, why wouldn't she? They're the same person.

"Want me to run it forward?" Hyer asked her when Samuels and Deena walked into the sitting room.

"Huh? Yeah, please."

"Nobody came near the door during the elapsed time," he continued. "No transmissions in or out, either." He stopped the disc, resumed at real time. "Here she comes."

"Cool. The same as with Icove. She doesn't hurry, she just.. . She took something from the room."

"How you figure?"

"Her bag. Her purse, it's heavier. Look how she's got her body angled to adjust for the weight. Run it back, run it back to when she went inside, freeze and split the screen with her exit."

He obliged, pulled on his bottom lip as they both studied. "Could be, could be. Missed it. Bag's not big, so she couldn't have taken anything bigger than-"

"Discs. What do you bet she took discs or records. She doesn't kill to steal, not for profit. Vic had good jewelry on. It'd be information- that slides right in."

She took Roarke to the murder scene. "What do you see?" she demanded.

"A nicely appointed sitting room. Female, but not overly fussy. Very neat, very upscale."

"What don't you see?"

"No security cameras, as there are in other areas. But," he continued as he took out what appeared to be a memo book, "that's what makes it private. And it is. No eyes in here."

"Okay. So we have private. No eyes, soundproofed. She'd have an office, and maybe more than one. She'd have living quarters, and we'll get to all that. But this is her little sanctuary, in the main building. She might secret data, journals, records, and so on elsewhere. But why have a little sanctuary if you don't use it? Deena took something out of here, something she put in her handbag. But... what do you see?"

He took another, longer measure of the room. "Everything in its place. Very ordered and tasteful. Balanced. Much like, though in smaller scale, the Icove home. No signs it's been searched or anything taken. How long did she have in here?"

"Eleven minutes."

"Then, particularly considering she killed in that time frame, whatever she took was in plain view, or she knew just where to find it."

"I'm going with door number two, because she wouldn't have been after a damn vase, or a souvenir. And our vie isn't going to have any incriminating data in the open. This isn't thrill killing, it's purposeful. She knew the routine."

Knew it, Eve thought. Practiced her way through it.

"Samuels met with parents or guardians of potential students in here. Not that they took in many from the outside, just enough to add income and diversity. Keep up a strong public rep. She interviewed potential staff in one of her offices. Deena could've gone that route, but she chose this one. She wanted in here. She wanted something in here in addition to terminating Samuels. Let's find the hole."

She went to a small desk first. It was obvious, but sometimes things were obvious for a reason.

"I'm going to have to convince Hyer to let me transport the body to New York."

Roarke ran his fingers delicately over walls, around art. "Because?"

"I want Morris on it. Just Morris. I want to know if she had face and or body work. I want to run a match program on her with images or Wilson's wife, Eva Samuels."

He stopped long enough to look back at her. "You think she was a clone. Eva Samuels's clone."

"Yeah, I do." She hunkered down to search under a table. "And when I was examining the body, I learned something."

"What?"

"They bleed and die like anybody else."

"If you're right about Deena, they kill, like their naturally conceived counterparts. Ah, there we are."

"Found it?"

"Seems I have." He drew out the wall screen as she rose and crossed to him. "Now this is a beauty," he murmured, dancing his fingers over the face of the wall vault. "Titanium core with a duraplast shell. Triple combination including voice code. Incorrect sequence will automatically reset it to an alternate combination and code, while triggering silent alarms in all or any of five selected locations."

"And you know that by looking at it."

"As I'd recognize a Renoir, darling Eve. Art is art, after all. I'll need some time with it."

"Take it, tag me when you're in. I need to check in with the rest o: the team and get some statements."

She contacted Mira and met her outside the theater. "What's your take?"

"They're children, Eve. Young girls. Frightened, confused, excited."

"Dr. Mira-"

"They're children," she repeated, and the strain showed in her voice "However they came to be. They need to be comforted, protected, reassured."

"What the hell do you think I'm going to do, round them up for mass extermination?"

"Some will want just that. They're not us, they're artificial. Abominations. Others will want to examine them, study them, as they would a mouse in a lab."

"What do you think he did? I'm sorry it hurts you, but what do you think he did with them, all these years, but examine and study them, test and train them,"

"I think he loved them."

"Oh, fuck that." Eve spun around, strode a few paces away in an attempt to cool her blood.

"Was he right, was he moral?" Mira lifted her hands, as if to reach out. "No, not on any level. But I can't believe they were nothing but experiments to him. Means to an end. They're beautiful girls. Bright, healthy. They-"

"He made damn sure of that." Eve whirled back. "Damn sure they met and maintained his specifications. Where are the ones who didn't? And these?" She swung her arm toward the theater doors. "What are their choices. None. His choices, his vision, his standards, every one. What makes him different, at the core, than a man like my father? Breeding me, locking me up like a rat in a cage, training me. Icove had more brains, and we'll assume his training methods didn't include beatings, starvation, rape. But he created, imprisoned, and sold his creations."

"Eve-"

"No! You listen to me. Deena might have been a reasoned adult when she killed him. She may not have been in fear for her life. But I know what she felt. I know why she drove that knife into his heart. Until he was dead, she was still in the cage. It won't stop me from tracking her down, from doing my job to the best of my capabilities. But she didn't kill an innocent. She didn't assassinate a saint. If you're not capable of putting aside your image of him as one, I can't use you."

"How objective are you, when you see him as a monster?"

"The evidence portrays him as a monster," Eve snapped back. "But I'll use that evidence in my attempts to identify, apprehend, and incarcerate his killer or killers. Right now I've got nearly eighty minor females in there-and this doesn't speak to the nearly two hundred at the college-who may or may not have legitimate legal guardianship. They have to be accessed and interviewed, and yes, fucking A, they have to be protected. Because none of this is their fault. It's his. While I'm dealing with them, I want you to go back, wait in the transpo until such time as I can arrange to have you taken back to New York."

"Don't you speak to me that way. And don't treat me like one of the screwups you enjoy slapping back."

"I'll speak to you any way I damn well please, and you will obey my orders. I'm primary on the homicide investigations of both Wilfred B Icoves. You're here under my authority. And you are screwing up. You either go back to the transpo on your own, or I'll have you escorted.

She may have looked tired, but Mira went toe-to-toe. "You can't interview those children without me. I'm a licensed counselor. You can't interview minors without the presence of a licensed counselor without the express permission of said minor's parents or legal guardians."

"I'll use Louise."

"Louise isn't NYPSD-authorized in this capacity. So to borrow a phrase, Lieutenant, bite me."

Mira turned on her heel and stormed back inside.

Eve kicked the door behind her. When her 'link beeped, she yanked it out. "What, goddamn it."

"I'm in," Roarke told her. "And have a look."

She scowled at her screen as he turned his 'link so she could view the empty vault. "Great. Terrific. Hit her offices next, pass anything you find to Feeney."

"Happy to oblige. Oh, Lieutenant, you might want to yank out whatever foreign entity's crawled up your ass before it ruins the line of your suit."

"I'm too busy to be amused." She snapped off the 'link, the-marched into the theater. "I want Diana Rodriguez," she told Mira. "in a private area."

"There's a small lounge one level down."

"Fine. Bring her." As she walked away, Eve took out her communicator. "Peabody. Report."

"Computer match on Flavia and Frost. No result, as yet, on the APB out on her or the vehicle. I'm checking all transpo stations within a hundred-mile radius."