Divided in Death (In Death #18)(20)

She sat on the side of the bed. "You're working for the government. Ours?"

"Well, if by that you mean the U.S., yes. Actually, it's also a conglomeration sort of thing. The U.S., the Euro Community, Russia, a few other concerned areas. Roarke Industries Securecomp arm has the contract, and R and D is working on it."

"And Reva Ewing works in R and D, for Roarke Industries Securecomp arm."

"She does. Eve, I said Code Red, that's highest clearance. This isn't something she'd have chatted about with her husband over dinner, I can promise you."

"Because you didn't chat with me about it over dinner?"

Irritation sparked, then was controlled. "Because she's a pro, Eve. She wouldn't hold the position she does if there was any doubt of that. She doesn't leak data."

"Maybe not." Coincidence, to her mind, was just a link between points. "But it's certainly possible someone else doesn't have the same confidence in her that you do. It sure adds an interesting angle."

She pushed off the bed, circled the room. "Check this out, will you?" she said absently with a gesture toward the mini data center. "Techno-terrorists. What does a philandering metal sculptor have in common with techno-terrorists besides his wife's position? Why, if they found some use for him, do they kill him, his mistress, and frame his wife? Of course, with the wife in a cage on two counts in the first, this could put a crimp into the research and development of the extermination program and shields."

She looked toward Roarke for confirmation.

"Somewhat. But not an insurmountable crimp. She's heading this, and a couple of other sensitive projects, but there's a very competent team as well. All data on the project would remain locked in-house. None of it is taken outside."

"Are you sure of that? Dead sure?"

"I would have been. This is fried as well, same method." Because he had the same cynical take on coincidence as Eve, anger began to rise through his concern. "Do you speculate that Bissel somehow got his hands on data pertaining to the programs, and was killed for it?"

"It's a good place to start. Did he, or Felicity, ever visit Reva at work?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but I'll find out. They'd never have been admitted into the lab-not this lab-but there are visitors' areas, so I'll see about that. I'll also have a look, personally, at the security of the project, and the personnel assigned."

She knew that icy, controlled tone of voice. "No point in getting pissed off until you know you've got a leak."

"Just getting a jump on it. You'll want to talk to Reva again, and press her on how her husband might have known something of this project."

"Like I said, it's a place to start."

"She might talk to me more freely."

"Her boss? The man who hired her, pays her, and trusted her with the responsibility of a Code Red? Why should she?"

"Because I've known her since she was in bloody university," he said with some impatience. "And if she lies to me, I'll know it."

"You're on EDD duty on this," she reminded him. "You wanted the gig, and you've got it. It looks to me as if we're going to make some use of you in that area. I've got to call for a pickup here of all electronics. And I want the gallery and the studio swept. So that's going to take a little time. I'll give you ten minutes with her, then she's mine."

"I appreciate it."

"No, you don't. You're still pissed off."

"At least I'm polite about it."

"If she leaked it-" She held up a hand to stop his automatic denial. "If she leaked it, how much of the fallout lands on you?"

He wanted a cigarette, and denied himself that small weakness out of principle. "She's mine, so it's my responsibility. We'll take a hit, a hard one. There are a number of other contracts pending. If this blows up in my face, I'd estimate seventy percent of them-and that's optimistic-will cancel."

She couldn't estimate the real value of seventy percent of pending contracts. Millions? Billions? But more, she knew, would be the damage to his pride, and his rep. So she kept her face sober. "Does that mean we won't be able to afford live-in help?"

Appreciating her, he angled his head, then gave her a quick poke with his finger in the belly. "We'll muddle through somehow. I've a bit put by for a rainy day."

"Yeah, a couple of continents, I imagine. Just like I imagine your rep will stand the hit, if it comes. It will," she repeated when he said nothing. "And I'd make book you'll fast talk your way into keeping the bulk of those pendings."

The first gush of anger cooled. "That's considerable faith in me, Lieutenant."

"Considerable faith in that Irish guile of yours, ace."

She pulled out her communicator and called for an EDD pickup. She stepped into the studio from the bedroom area as Peabody stepped in from the gallery.

"Got the interview-the really long, rambling, theatrical interview with McCoy. Due to which, I just took a departmentally approved blocker for the amazing headache."

"Where is she?"

"I let her go. She's planning to lay prostrate in bed in her apartment, and permit herself to be swept away by the rising tide of her grief. That's a direct quote. I did a standard run on her while she was babbling," she added, and brightened considerably when Roarke stepped out. "She's twenty-one, as advertised. Still working on her art and theater degrees, big surprise there. Employed here for the last eight months. No criminal. Born in Topeka." She tried and failed to stifle a yawn. "Sorry. Was Farm Queen her senior year of high school, another shocker. Moved here at eighteen to attend Columbia, partial scholarship. She comes up as clean and green as a Kansas wheat field."