Immortal in Death (In Death #3)(69)

“I’m checking my worms. Trying out a new breed.” She held up a clump of dirt that wiggled.

“Very nice,” Eve decided and was faintly relieved when Engrave buried the busy clump.

“So, you’re Roarke’s cop. Always figured he’d choose one of those fussy purebreds with the skinny necks and big boobs.” She pursed her lips as she looked Eve over. “Glad he didn’t. Trouble with purebreds is, they need constant pampering. Give me a good hybrid any day.”

Engrave wiped her dirty hands on her dirty clothes. When she rose, she proved to be about five feet tall. “Digging around with worms is good therapy. More people should try it, then they wouldn’t need drugs to get through the day.”

“Speaking of drugs…”

“Yes, yes, over here.” She started off at marching pace, then began to slow, to meander. “Need some pruning here. More nitrogen. Underwatered. Root bound.” She paused beside spearing green leaves, trailing vines, explosive blooms. “It’s gotten to the stage they pay me to garden. Nice work if you can get it. Know what this is?”

Eve looked at a purple trumpet-shaped bloom. She was pretty sure, but wary of a trap. “A flower.”

“Petunia. Hah. People have forgotten the charm of the traditional.” She stopped by a sink, washed some of the dirt off her hands, left more under her short ragged nails. “Everybody wants exotic nowadays. Bigger, better, different. A good bed of petunias will give a lot of pleasure for little care. You plant them, don’t expect them to be something they’re not, and enjoy. They’re simple, don’t wither up on you if you look cross-eyed. A good bed of petunias means something. Well then.”

She hoisted herself onto a stool in front of a workbench crowded with garden tools, pots, papers, an AutoChef that blinked on empty, and a top-of-the-line computer system.

“That was an interesting bag of tricks you sent over with that Irishman. Who knew his petunias, by the way.”

“Feeney’s a man of many talents.”

“Gave him a nice flat of pansies for his wife.” Engrave engaged the computer. “Already ran analysis on the sample Roarke brought by. Sweet-talked me into putting a rush on it. Another Irishman. God love ‘em. Believe in crossing my t’s on something like this. The fresh sample gave me more to work with.”

“Then you have the results — “

“Don’t rush me, girl. It only works with good-looking Micks. And I don’t like working for cops.” Engrave smiled widely. “They don’t appreciate the art of science. Bet you don’t even know your periodic table, do you?”

“Listen, Doctor — ” To Eve’s relief the formula flashed on screen. “Is this unit controlled?”

“It’s passkeyed, don’t you worry. Roarke said it was top security. I’ve been off the turnip truck longer than you’ve been alive.” She brushed Eve off with one grimy hand, gestured toward the screen with the other. “Now, I don’t have to go into the basic elements here. A child could make them, so I assume you’ve ID’d them.”

“It’s the single unknown — “

“I know the drill, Lieutenant. Here’s your little problem.” She highlighted a series of factors. “You haven’t tagged it from this formula, because they coded it. What you got here’s just a bunch of gibberish. It’s what you’ve got here.” Reaching over, she took a small slide dusted with powder. “Even your top labs would have a tough time fining this down. It looks like one thing, it smells like another. And when it’s all blended together as it is in this form, it’s the reaction that changes the mix. You know much about chemistry?”

“Do I have to?”

“If more people understood — “

“Dr. Engrave, I want to understand murder. You tell me what it is, and let me go from there.”

“Impatience is another problem with people today,” Engrave huffed, then took out a small covered dish. Inside were a few drops of milky liquid. “Since you don’t give a rat’s skinny ass, I won’t tell you what I did. We’ll leave it that I ran some tests, did some basic chemistry, and separated your unknown.”

“Is that it?”

“In its liquid form, yes. I bet your lab tech told you it was some form of a valarian — southwest U. S. native species.”

Eve looked over. “And?”

“He’d be close, but no cigar. It’s a plant, all right, and valarian was used in the grafting of the specimen. This is nectar, the substance that seduces the birds and bees and makes the world go round. This nectar is not from any native species.”

“Not native to the U. S.”

“Not native anywhere. Period.” She reached over, picked up a potted plant, and set it down with a thud. “This is your baby.”

“It’s pretty,” Peabody said, leaning closer to the lush frilled-edged blooms that varied from creamy white to royal purple. She sniffed, closed her eyes, and sniffed deeper. “God, it’s wonderful. It’s like…” Her head swam. “Strong.”

“You bet your ass it’s strong. That’s enough or you’ll be buzzed for an hour.” Engrave shoved the plant clear.

“Peabody?” Eve took her arm, shook. “Snap out of it.”