Origin in Death (In Death #21)(83)

"Change of venue, for one. We can't take them into Central, not on Code Blue. We take them out quickly, discreetly, to my place. We'll set up there. Contact Whitney. He's going to want to be in on this." She pulled out her 'link, called home.

"Moving to Plan B here," she told Roarke.

"Which is?"

"Working on that. I'm going to need a contained interview area and a secondary area for observation. I'm bringing in ... Better just show you."

She turned her 'link, panned the three women who sat together on the sofa.

"Ah. That's interesting."

"Yeah, I'm riveted. We're coming now."

She pocketed her 'link, holstered her weapon. "Here's how it's going to work. The three of you are going out, getting directly into the rear of my vehicle. Any one of you tries to resist or run, you're all going to spend the night in a cage. You'll be taken to a secure location where the interview will be conducted. You're not under arrest at this point, but you are under obligation to attend this interview. You each have the right to remain silent."

They did so as she recited the Revised Miranda.

"Do you understand your rights and obligations?"

"We do." Their voices blended like one.

"Peabody, let's move it out."

There was no resistance. Each slid gracefully into the waiting car, linked hands. And spoke not a word.

Did they communicate telepathically? Eve wondered as she got behind the wheel. Or did they have to communicate at all? Were their thoughts simply the same thoughts?

That didn't work for her, but it was a hell of a puzzle.

Clever of them, she decided, to have coordinated the outfits. Gave the observer a bigger jolt and merged them into a unit. It'd be wise to remember they were smart women.

Intelligence had been one of Icove's prerequisites in his work. Maybe if he hadn't insisted his creations be so smart, he'd still be alive.

She signaled Peabody to remain silent as well and began to outline her strategies.

"You have a remarkable home," one of them said when Eve drove through the gates.

The next smiled. "We've always wanted to see the inside."

"Even," the third finished, "under such unusual circumstances."

Rather than respond, Eve continued up the drive, then parked in front of the house. She and Peabody flanked the trio and escorted them to the door.

Roarke opened it himself. "Ladies," he said, smooth as ever.

"Secured?"

He glanced at Eve. "Yes. If you'd come this way."

He took them to the foyer elevator, a snug fit for six. "Level-three meeting room," he ordered.

Eve wasn't sure she knew they had a level-three meeting room, but kept that information to herself as the elevator began to glide.

When the doors opened she recognized the area, vaguely, as one Roarke used on occasions when he had live or holo-meetings too large to suit his office space.

There was a glossy conference table in the center of the room, with. two seating areas on either end. A long, gleaming bar rode one wall, backed with sparkling mirrors. On its opposite was a data and communication center.

"Sit," Eve ordered. "And wait. Peabody, stand for the moment." She gestured to Roarke and walked out with him into the hall.

"Observation behind the mirrors?"

"There, yes. Also the room is under full video and audio. Your observers can sit comfortably in the adjoining lounge. Why aren't you fascinated?"

"I am, but I have to think. They're tricky. They've been waiting ice this, on some level, all their lives. They're prepared."

"What they are is unified."

"Yeah. Maybe they don't have a choice on the unification. I don't know. How can we know? They're not sweating this. She was-the first one. But as soon as she made the call, she smoothed out. Show me observation."

She went with him into a spacious sitting room, all muted colors and relaxation. Glass doors opened onto one of the many terraces, and an entertainment screen spread out on the connecting wall.

"Screen on," Roarke instructed. "Observation mode. Engage audio."

It seemed as though the wall melted. She could see the whole of the meeting room. Peabody stood by the door, her face schooled in professional blankness. The three women sat at one end of the table. Their hands remained linked.

Eve slid her hands into the pockets of the coat she'd forgotten she had on. "They don't say 'I,' they say 'we.' Is that smart or is it honest?"

"Maybe it's both. But smart's a factor. Dress, hairstyle identical. That's calculated."

"Yeah." She nodded. She took out her communicator, buzzed Peabody. "Privacy mode," she ordered, waited. "Leave them there for now, come out, turn right, come in through the first door."

"Yes, sir."

"They'll know you're watching," Roarke pointed out. "They're used to being watched."

"Hey," Peabody said as she came in, saw the observation window. "More frost in a series of frosty events and happenings. Is it just me, or does that have a very high creepy factor?"

"Imagine how it is for them," Eve countered. "Whitney?"