Conspiracy in Death (In Death #8)(53)

"Have you, as yet, established a profile of the killer or killers?"

Here, Eve thought was the point where she would walk the shaky line between departmental policy and her own needs. "The profile is being constructed. At this time it is believed that the perpetrator has well-trained medical skills."

"A doctor?"

"Not all well-trained medical personnel are doctors," she said briefly. "But that, too, is an avenue of our investigation. The department, and this investigator, will put all efforts into finding the killer or killers of Petrinsky and Spindler. It's my priority at this time."

"You have leads?"

Eve waited a beat, just one beat. "We are following any and all leads."

Eve gave her another ten minutes, circling around and back to the information she wanted aired. There was a connection, there was medical skill, and she was focused on finding the killer.

"Good, great." Nadine shook her hair back, rolled her shoulders. "I think I'll snip and edit and work that into a two-parter. I need something to compete with this damn snow." She sent her operator a warm smile. "Be a sweetheart, would you, and go on down to the van? Shoot that feed to the station. I'll be right along."

She waited until he was gone, then turned her sharp eyes to Eve. "Off the record?"

"On or off, I can't give you much more."

"You think it's a doctor, a surgeon. A very skilled one."

"What I think isn't what I know. Until I know, the case is open."

"But we're not talking cult or black market."

"Off record, no, I don't think so. No sacrifice to some bloody god, no quick profit. If money's part of it, it's a long-term investment. Do your job, Nadine, and if you find anything interesting, run it by me. I'll confirm or deny, if I can."

Fair was fair, Nadine thought. And Eve Dallas could be counted on to deal them straight. "And if I dig up something you don't have, and pass it along? What will you trade?"

Eve smiled. "You'll get the exclusive when the case breaks."

"Nice doing business with you, Dallas." She rose, tossed one look toward the blind white curtain out the window. "I hate winter," she muttered and strode out.

Eve took the next hour at Central to refine her report and transmit a copy to Whitney. Even as the transmission ended, an incoming sounded. Marie Dubois had come through.

Preferring to read through the data without distractions, she delayed her trip back home. It was after noon when she filed and saved and copied, tucking the disc into her bag.

The snow was falling faster, heavier, when she drove into it again. As a precaution, she engaged the vehicle's sensors. She sure as hell didn't want to run into a stalled vehicle because she was snow blind.

As it was, the sensors kept her from running over the man stretched out facedown in the street and rapidly being buried in snow.

"Shit." She stopped bare inches before her wheels met his head, and shoving the door open, stumbled out to check his condition.

She was reaching for her communicator to summon a med-tech unit when he sprang up like a rocket and with one rapid backhand to the face, sent her sprawling.

Irritation came as quickly as pain. Do a damn good deed, she thought as she leaped to her feet, get punched in the face.

"You've got to be desperate, pal, to try to mug somebody in this weather. And just your luck, I'm a goddamn cop." She started to reach for her badge, then saw his hand come up. In it was a weapon very similar to the one strapped to her side.

"Lieutenant Dallas."

She knew exactly what it felt like to take a hit from a weapon like the one he held. Since it wasn't an experience she cared to repeat, she kept her hands in view.

Not a man, she realized now that she got a better look. A droid. One that had been programmed to stop her specifically.

"That's right. What's the deal?"

"I'm authorized to give you a choice."

The snow, she thought, was very likely blurring his vision as much as it was hers. She'd get an opening, by God, and bust his circuits. "What choice? And make it fast before some ass**le drives along and kills us."

"Your investigation into the matter of Petrinsky and/or Spindler is to be dropped within twenty-four hours."

"Oh yeah?" She shifted her stance, cocking a hip in what would appear to be arrogance. But it brought her just a step closer. "Why would I do something like that?"

"If you do not cooperate with this request, you will be terminated, and your spouse, Roarke, will be terminated. These terminations will not be pleasant or humane. There are certain parties who have complete knowledge of the human body and will use such knowledge to make your deaths very painful. I am authorized to give you full details of the procedures."

Going with the gut, she stumbled forward. "Don't hurt my husband." She let her voice shake, watched with narrowed eyes as the droid shifted the weapon enough to hold out his free hand and stop her forward motion.

It only took an instant.

She slammed her forearm into his weapon hand, disarming him, then, trusting her boots for traction, spun into a vicious back kick. It knocked him back a foot, but not quite long enough to give her time to free her weapon.

The snow cushioned the worst of the fall when he tackled her. They fought in near silence, hampered by the snow. But she tasted blood and cursed roundly when he slipped past her guard and slammed a fist into her mouth.