Origin in Death (In Death #21)(70)

She looked down at her hands, and Roarke saw her run a thumb over her wedding ring.

"But I felt it was important that I meet with you personally when you expressed interest in Unilab and the Center. I need to be frank." "Please do."

"Carla-Ms. Poole-believes you have intentions of acquiring majority shares in Unilab. At least that this visit is a kind of scouting expedition toward that end. Is it?" "Would you object to that?"

"At this moment, I feel it's important that we evaluate and reconstruct, as it were, the Center, and all its facilities and functions. That I as the head of the family, be involved in that process as much as it's feasible. In the future, possibly the near future, I would like to think that someone with your reputation and skill, your instincts, could be a leading hand in the work done here. I'd like time for that evaluation and reconstruction. As you know, probably with more comprehension than I, the center is a complex, multifaceted facility. Both my husband and his father were very hands-on, on every level. It's going to be a laborious restructuring."

Forthright, Roarke thought. Logically so, and very well prepared for this meeting. "You have no desire to take a permanent, active part in running Unilab or the Center?"

She smiled. Contained, polite, nothing more. "None whatsoever. But I want time to do my duty, and the option of then putting it in capable hands." She rose. "I'll leave you to Carla. She'll be able to give you a much more comprehensive tour than I, and answer your questions more intelligently."

"She seems very capable. She mentioned she went to Brookhollow College. I'm sure you understand I had some research done before this meeting. You also graduated from Brookhollow, correct?"

"Yes." Her gaze stayed steady and level. "Though she's younger than I, Carla actually graduated ahead of me. She was on an accelerated course."

At Central, Eve conducted the briefing in a conference room. Attending included the chief of police, her commander, APA Reo, Mira, Adam Quincy-chief legal counsel for the NYPSD-as well as her partner, Feeney, and McNab.

Quincy, as was typical in Eve's-thankfully rare-dealings with him, played devil's advocate.

"You're seriously alleging that the Icoves, the Icove Center, Unilab, Brookhollow Academy and College, and potentially all or some of the other facilities with which these two lauded doctors were associated are involved in illegal medical practices that include human cloning, physiological imprinting, and the merchandising of women."

"Thanks for rounding it up for me, Quincy."

"Lieutenant." Tibble was a tall man, lean, with a dark face that could set like stone. "As chief counsel points out, these are stunning and serious accusations."

"Yes, sir, they are. They aren't made lightly. Through the investigation of the homicides we have ascertained that Wilfred Icove, Sr., was acquainted with and worked with Dr. Jonah D. Wilson-a noted geneticist who supported the lifting of bans on areas of genetic manipulation and reproductive cloning. After the death of his wife, Wilfred Icove came out publicly in support of his associate's stand. While Icove ceased his public support, he never retracted his statements, and together these men built facilities-"

"Medical clinics," Quincy put in. "Laboratories. The respected Unilab, for which they won the Nobel Prize."

"Undisputed," Eve snapped back. "Both these men were also instrumental in founding Brookhollow. Wilson served as its president, succeeded by his wife, then his wife's niece."

"Another respected institution."

"Avril Icove, Senior's ward, who subsequently became Junior's wife, attended that institution. Avril's mother was an associate of Icove Sr.'s."

"Which correlates logically to being named her guardian."

"The woman suspected of killing Icove Sr., and visually identified as Deena Flavia, also attended Brookhollow."

"First, visually identified." Quincy lifted a hand, tapped one finger. "Second-"

"Will you just wait?"

"Quincy," Tibble said mildly, "save the rebuttal. Continue, Lieutenant. Lay it out."

Somebody, somewhere, claimed a picture was worth a thousand words. She figured Quincy had a couple of billion words. But she had plenty of pictures. "Peabody, first images, please."

"Yes, sir." Peabody keyed them in, as previously discussed.

"This is the image generated by the security cameras of the woman calling herself Dolores Nocho-Alverez exiting Icove Sr.'s office moments after what has been confirmed as time of death. Sharing the screen is the ID image of Deena Flavia, taken thirteen years ago, shortly before her disappearance. A disappearance that was not reported to any authority."

"Look the same to me," Reo commented and cocked an eyebrow at Quincy. "Granted there are ways to duplicate images, or to change your own appearance-temporarily or permanently. But, it could be argued, why? If Dolores accessed Deena's ID image, it could also be argued she would have known or assumed either her cooperation or her death. Which ties them together again."

"Feeney?" Eve asked.

"The data listed for Dolores Nocho-Alverez is fabricated. Right down the line: name, DOB, FOB, parents, residence. It's what we call a sleeve-just a quick, temporary cover, with nothing inside it."