Origin in Death (In Death #21)(24)

"Oh boy, oh boy." She whirled it around, swirled it on while he watched. It hit her an inch above the ankles, carried deep pockets, and was smooth as butter.

"You make a picture," he complimented, pleased that she'd already spun toward the mirror to see for herself. It was masculine-a deliberate choice on his part. No frills, no feminine touches. In it she looked sexy and dangerous, and just a little aloof.

"Now this is what it is. This is a goddamn coat. I'll bung it up before the end of shift, but it'll look even better with a few scars." She spun around, and the coat swirled around her legs. "Nice job. Thanks."

"My pleasure." He tapped his lips so that she walked over to plant hers on them. Then he slid his arms under the coat and around her.

My God, he thought, it was good to be home.

"There are a number of inside pockets, if someone needed to secret weapon of some sort."

"Frosty. Man, Baxter's going to crap himself when I walk in wear--.; this."

"Lovely image, thanks."

"It's really great." She kissed him again. "I really love it. I gotta go."

"See you tonight."

He watched her walk away, and thought she looked like a warrior.

Since she had nearly an hour before the start of her shift, Eve took a chance and headed to Mira's office first. As she had expected, the doctor was in, and her dragon of an admin wasn't.

Eve knocked on Mira's open office door.

"Sorry."

"Eve. Did we have an early appointment?"

"No." Mira looked tired, Eve noted. And sad. "I know you usually try to get in before hours, catch up on paperwork or whatever. Sorry to get in the way of that."

"It's all right. Come in. Is this about Wilfred?"

"Wanted to run something by you." And she felt lousy for doing it. Doctor-patient relation sort of deal. You keep case files."

"Of course."

"And in addition to the consult position with the department, you do some private work. Counseling, therapy, and the like. You sometimes treat patients on an ongoing basis. Over the course of years, say."

"Certainly."

"How do you keep the files, the data?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"You passcode your unit, for security?"

"Absolutely. All files are confidential. The private cases. And the consults for the department are on a need-to-know basis."

"The discs themselves? Those protected, too?"

"I would add a layer onto the more sensitive material, if I felt it necessary."

"You encode the data?"

"Codes?" This time Mira smiled. "That would be a bit paranoid of me, wouldn't it? Are you worried about leaks on my end, Eve?"

"No. Other than paranoia, why would a doctor passcode unit, discs, then encode the data on the discs?"

The smile had faded. "I would have to assume the structure in which the doctor worked required such precautions, or the data itself was hypersensitive. There is the possibility the doctor had reason to suspect someone might attempt to access the data. Or the work being documented was highly experimental."

"Illegal."

"I didn't say illegal."

"Would you if you weren't aware I was asking about Icove?"

"There are a lot of reasons, as I've just told you, why such data might be particularly protected."

Eve sat without invitation, kept her eyes level with Mira's. "He gave the patients labels rather than names. They were all female, all between the ages of seventeen and twenty-two. There was little surgery of the type he's known for. They were all tested and graded in areas such as cognitive skills, language, artistic talents, physical prowess. Depending on their progress and level, treatment-which was never clearly detailed-was either continued or terminated. If continued, it ended in what was termed 'placement,' at which time the file was ended. What does it mean?"

"I can't say."

"Best guess."

"Don't do this to me, Eve." Mira's voice trembled. "Please."

"Okay." Eve pushed to her feet. "Okay, I'm sorry."

Mira only shook her head. Eve stepped back out of the office, and left her alone.

On the way to Homicide, Eve pulled her 'link out of her pocket. It was still early, but as far as she was concerned, doctors and cops had no schedule. She had no problem waking Dr. Louise Dimatto.

Louise looked dewy, her gray eyes blurry with sleep, her blond hair tousled. She said. "Ugh."

"Got some questions. When can you meet me?"

"Morning off. Sleepy. Go far, far away."

"I'll come to you." Eve checked the time. "Thirty minutes."

"I hate you, Dallas."

The screen wavered a moment, then a handsome and sleepy male race joined Louise's. "So do I."

"Hey, Charles." Charles Monroe was a professional LC, and the other half of the couple who were Charles and Louise. "Thirty minutes," she repeated, and ended the transmission before anyone could argue.

She backtracked, deciding it would be simpler to pick up Peabody at her home and head straight out. When Peabody came on screen her hair was wet and she had a towel clutched to her br**sts.