Brotherhood in Death (In Death #42)(61)

“And the sexy sex droid tells us it was last utilized thirty-two hours ago,” Roarke commented. “McNab’s taking in electronics, but we found nothing that pertains on his comps and ’links on a surface search. A spare pocket ’link in his home office, desk drawer. It hasn’t been used, so spare is literal to my way of thinking.”

“And the one he did use isn’t here. So if anything on there pertains, the killers have it. Baxter, you and Trueheart take the vic’s professional contacts. Get a feel, get alibis. Find me his sidepieces if he had them.”

“Can and will.”

“I’ll send you names and pictures of the women on the first vic’s list. Let’s find out if they ring for anybody at the second vic’s office. Peabody, tell McNab I want every byte of data on every piece of equipment here and from the first vic’s office. Any-and everything that overlaps gets priority. This is payback. What did they do—together—to earn it? Tell him now. We need to get to the morgue.”

“The morgue before breakfast. Pro or con?” Peabody started upstairs. “I’ll let you know.”

“Professional contacts,” Eve repeated. “Confirmation of alibis.”

“LT, it’s oh-five hundred,” Baxter reminded her.

“We’re up. Why shouldn’t potential murder suspects be up? Get gone.”

“We’re going to be a couple of popular guys, Trueheart.”

“Any orders for me, Lieutenant?” Roarke asked as they headed out.

“You should go home, buy another chunk of the solar system.”

“Just another day at the office.” He watched a white-suited sweeper bag the noose. “For both of us.” But he took her arm, led her a short distance away. “Do you believe these two men were partners in some sort of ugly sex game? Partners in rape?”

“I don’t believe anything yet. But that’s an angle I’m going to look at. The grandson said they took his life, and took his dignity. They damn well did. There’s a reason for the humiliation as much as the torture and kill. I read payback. Who did these two men humiliate?”

“And what sin or crime did they commit that what was done could be considered—by any—justice?”

“Yeah. Good friends, long-term friends. What secrets did they share? There’s something, yes, ugly under this. And it still reads sex. I can get you a ride home.”

“I can get my own ride, thanks all the same. Tend to yourself,” he murmured. “Not just my cop, but to that young girl you still carry with you.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

He took her face in his hands, kissed her firmly before she could stop him. “Don’t be a git. I’ll be in touch,” he added as he walked to the door.

She let out a huff of breath, turned in time to see the nearby sweeper grinning through her face shield.

“What are you grinning at?”

“Just imagining having a guy who looks like that lay lips on me. It’s a smiley thought.” She bagged a blood sample from the floor. “You take ’em where you find ’em.”

Maybe so, Eve thought. She wouldn’t find many smiley moments at the morgue.

“Peabody, with me, damn it! Keep your hands off McNab’s bony ass or you’re walking to the morgue.”

She was already pulling the front door open when Peabody rushed down the steps. “How did you know where my hands were?”

“I’m a trained detective.” She glanced back, saw the sweeper grin again. “Another smiley moment?”

“Ain’t it grand?”





12


Peabody scrambled to catch up while winding today’s scarf—icy winter blue with candy-green zigzags—around her neck.

“If the two vics were pals, and sex is motive, maybe they shared some of the women on the list.”

Eve slid behind the wheel. “Now you’re thinking.”

“I can think even with my hands on McNab’s bony ass. And it was really just a friendly pat.” She let out a happy sigh as she settled into the passenger seat. “Ah. The seat warmer’s on. Now my not-so-bony ass is happy.”

“I hereby issue a ban on any discussion of your ass or McNab’s.” Eve flicked a gaze in the side mirror, did a zip-switch of lanes. “Roarke’s going to ask security at the hotel if Wymann used the suite, and if so, who used it with him. We connect any of the sidepieces, we have a whole other conversation.”

“On the other hand, why have a sex droid in the bedroom closet— and McNab said it was programmed for the universe of sex—if you’re diddling with live ones regularly?”

“The answer to that is: penis.”

“Oh yeah, how could I forget?” Peabody didn’t mention her ass, but snuggled it happily into the warm. “But don’t you think that has to slow down some once the penis has going on seven decades under its belt? And I just got a mental picture of a penis wearing a belt. It wasn’t pretty.”

“Thanks for sharing that. Before the day’s over, after the sweepers are done, I’m going back to go through the vic’s house, and you know what I’d bet a year’s salary I’m going to find? Boner drugs and other sex . . . extenders.”