Immortal in Death (In Death #3)(82)

“It is her business, Lieutenant.”

“Vanity’s costing her several hundred K a year, I’d say, just on the topicals. Christ knows what she spends in ingestives and sculpting. If I could just find a little of that nice powder.”

“You’re looking for Immortality?” He let out a laugh. “She may be arrogant, but she doesn’t look stupid.”

“Maybe you’re right.” She opened the door of a friggie and smiled. “But she’s got a container of that drink in here. A locked container.” Pursing her lips, Eve looked toward Roarke. “I don’t suppose you could…”

“Veer from the straight and narrow.” He sighed, walked over, and studied the lock on the clear bottle. “Sophisticated. She’s not taking any chances with it. The bottle’s unbreakable from the look of it.” His fingers played over the lock mechanism as he spoke. “Find me a nail file, a hair clip, something like that, will you?”

Eve pushed through the drawers. “Will this do?”

Roarke frowned at the tiny pair of manicure scissors. “Close enough.” He jiggled the lock with the points, finessed, and stepped back. “There you are.”

“You’re awfully good at that.”

“Just a small, insignificant talent, Lieutenant.”

“Right.” She dug in her bag, pulled out an evidence holder. She filled it with a couple of ounces. “That should be more than enough.”

“Would you like me to relock it? It would only take a moment.”

“Don’t bother. We can swing by the lab on the way.”

“On the way to?”

“To where I’ve got Peabody staked out. Justin Young’s back door.” She started out, flicking him a smile. “You know, Roarke, Jerry was right about one thing. I have pretty good taste in men.”

“Darling, your taste is impeccable.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Being hooked up with a rich man had a number of disadvantages in Eve’s mind, but it had one overwhelming plus. That was food. On the way back across town she managed to stuff herself to bursting with chicken Kiev from the fully stocked AutoChef in his car.

“Nobody has chicken Kiev in their car unit,” she said with her mouth full.

“They do if they run around with you. Otherwise you’d live off soy burgers and irradiated powdered eggs.”

“I hate irradiated powdered eggs.”

“Exactly.” It pleased him to hear her chuckle. “You’re in a rare old mood, Lieutenant.”

“It’s coming together, Roarke. They’ll drop charges on Mavis by Monday morning, and by then I’ll have the bastards. It was all money,” she said and dabbed up grains of wild rice with her fingers. “Fucking money. Pandora was the connection to Immortality, and those three high flyers wanted their share.”

“So they lured her to Leonardo’s and killed her.”

“Leonardo’s was probably her idea. She wasn’t letting go there, and she was revved to fight. Gave them the perfect opportunity and setting. Mavis walking in was just icing. They’d have left Leonardo hanging by his balls, otherwise.”

“Not to question your quick, agile, and suspicious mind, but why not just whack her in an alley? If you’re right, they’d done it before.”

“So they wanted some staging this time.” She moved her shoulders. “Hetta Moppett was a potential loose end. One of them confronted her, likely questioned her, then got rid of her. Better not to chance whatever Boomer had let slip during sex.”

“Then Boomer came next.”

“He knew too much, had too much. It’s not likely he knew about all three of them. But he’d nailed at least one, and when he spotted that one in the club, he went underground. They managed to get him out, tortured him, killed him. But they didn’t have time to go back and get the stuff.”

“All for profit?”

“For profit, and if that analysis comes out the way I think it will, for Immortality. Pandora was on it, no question. My take is that whatever Pandora had or wanted, Jerry Fitzgerald wanted to have more. You’ve got a drug that makes you look good, younger, sexier. It could be worth a fortune to her professionally. Not to mention her ego.”

“But it’s lethal.”

“That’s what they say about smoking, but I’ve seen you light up some tobacco.” She arched a brow at him. “Unprotected sex was lethal during the latter half of the twentieth century. Didn’t stop people from f**king strangers. Guns are lethal, but we spent decades getting them off the street. Then — “

“Point taken. Most of us think we’re going to live forever. Did you do testing on Redford?”

“We did. He’s clean. Doesn’t mean his hands are any less bloody. I’m going to lock the three of them away for the next fifty years.”

Roarke eased the car to a stop at a light, turned to look at her. “Eve, are you after them for murder, or for messing with the life of your friend?”

“The results are the same.”

“Your feelings aren’t.”

“They hurt her,” she said tightly. “They put her through hell. Forced me to help them put her through it. She lost her job, and a lot of her confidence. They’re going to pay for that.”