Origin in Death (In Death #21)(31)

"Show me the chocolate," Eve said without preamble. Obliging, Nadine lifted the lid of the box. Eve gave a brief nod. "Good bribe. "Walk and talk."

"The coat." Nadine said it like a woman praying. "It's extreme."

"Keeps the rain off." Eve swiveled her shoulder when Nadine stroked a hand over the leather covering it.

"Don't pet it."

"It's like smooth black cream. I'd give an astounding sexual performance for a coat like this."

"Thanks, but you're not my type. Is my coat going to be the topic of discussion during your five minutes?"

"I could talk about that coat for days, but no. Icove."

"The dead one or the live one?"

"Dead. We've got bio data up the ying, and we'll be using it. Wilfred Benjamin Icove, medical pioneer, healer, and humanitarian. Philanthropist and philosopher. Loving father, doting granddad. Scientist and scholar, yaddah, blah. His life's going to be covered endlessly by every media outlet on and off planet. Tell me how he got dead."

"Stabbed through the heart. Give me a brownie."

"Forget it." And Nadine hooked both arms around the box to prevent a snatch-and-run. "A voice-cracking on-air for his high school data screen's got that much. Chocolate's not cheap. We've got the beautiful and mysterious female suspect angle. Security guards, medical and administrative staff don't have to be bribed to blab. What have you got on her?"

"Nothing."

"Come on." Nadine reopened the lid of the box, waved her hand over it as if to waft the scent into Eve's face.

Eve had to laugh. "It's believed the female individual who allegedly was the last person to see Icove alive used false ID. The investigating officers and the EDD section of the department are working with all diligence to identify this individual so that she can be questioned in regards to Icove's death."

"An unidentified woman, using false ID, slipped through the elaborate security at the WBI Center, strolled into his office, stabbed him in the heart, strolled out again. Got it."

"I'm not confirming that. We are very interested in identifying, locating, and questioning this individual. Give me a damn brownie."

When Nadine lifted the lid, Eve snatched two. Before a protest could be voiced, she passed one to Peabody. "Further," she said with a mouthful of chocolate so rich she all but heard her tonsils hum, "we are pursuing the theory that the victim knew his attacker."

"Knew her? That's fresh."

The brownie was worth fresh. "We have not yet identified the attacker as male or female. However, the death blow was inflicted at close range, and there is no evidence of struggle, duress, no defensive wounds. There is no indication of robbery or other assault. There is a strong likelihood that the victim knew his attacker. Certainly, evidence doesn't indicate he felt threatened."

"Motive?"

"Working on it." They'd made their way down to garage level. "Off the record."

"I hate that." Nadine hissed. "Off the record."

"I think the doctor was into something slippery on the side."

"Sex?"

"Possibly. If the trail we're following leads to that, it's going to be hot. The reporter who breaks it might get singed."

"I'll dig out my heat shields."

"Save me time. Dig info instead. I want all the data your researchers have on Icove, then I want more. Anything that has to do with medical or social areas of interest that are off-center."

Nadine pursed her lips. "In which direction?"

"Any. You get me something that helps me, when this is ready to go public, I'll give you the whole ball, a full media cycle ahead of the pack."

Nadine's eyes, a feline green, were vivid with interest. "You think he was dirty."

"I think anybody who looks that clean's got grime washed down the drain."

When they were in Eve's vehicle, the bakery box tucked in the back, Peabody produced finger wipes out of her bag. "You don't believe someone can live a blameless life?" she asked. "Be intrinsically good,

even selfless."

"Not if they're made of blood and bone. Nobody's spotless, nobody."

"My father's never hurt anyone. Just a for-instance."

"Your father doesn't pretend to be a saint, or have a PR firm spinning his halos. Got himself arrested a couple times, right?"

"Well, just minor charges. Protesting. Free-Agers mostly feel honor-bound to protest, and they don't believe in permits. But that's not-

"It's a mark," Eve interrupted. "A little one, sure, but a mark. He doesn't try to erase it. A slate this squeaky clean? Somebody washed it."

The slate remained pristine as they worked their way through staff it the center. From his administrative assistant to lab techs, from doctors to orderlies. It was, Eve thought, more shrine than slate.

Eve tried the admin again, from a different angle.

"It seems, looking over Dr. Icove's schedule, his personal calendar, it had a lot of free time. How did he use it?"

"He spent a lot of time visiting patients, here and at other facilities

where he was affiliated." Pia wore black, head to toe, and had a tissue balled in her hand. "Dr. Icove believed, strongly believed, in the personal touch."