Rapture in Death (In Death #4)(44)

But the man himself cast the rest in shadow.

He was enormous, easily six seven and a beefy two seventy. His wide, rawboned face was weathered and tanned, with his brilliantly white hair cropped short. On hands as big as Virginia hams, he wore two rings. One was the symbol of military rank; the other was a thick gold wedding band.

He stood poker straight and studied Eve out of eyes the color and texture of onyx. For Peabody, he never spared a glance.

“Lieutenant, you’re inquiring into the death of Senator Pearly.”

So much for amenities, Eve thought and answered in kind. “That’s affirmative, Chief Dudley. I’m investigating the possibility that the senator’s death is connected to another case on which I am primary. Your cooperation in this matter is duly noted and appreciated.”

“I find the possibility of a connection slim to none. However, after reviewing your record with NYPSD, I found no objection to allowing you to view the senator’s file.”

“Even a slim possibility bears investigating, Chief Dudley.”

“I agree, and I admire thoroughness.”

“Then, might I ask if you knew the senator personally?”

“I did, and though I did not agree with his politics, I considered him a dedicated public servant and a man with a strong moral base.”

“One who would take his own life?”

Dudley’s eyes flickered for a moment. “No, Lieutenant, I would say not. Which is why you’re here. The senator has left behind a family. In the area of family, the senator and I were in harmony. Therefore, his apparent suicide does not fit the man.”

Dudley touched a control on his desk, inclined his head to the view wall. “On screen one, his personal file. On screen two, his financial records. Screen three, his political file. You’ll have one hour to review data. This office will be under electronic surveillance. Simply request Sergeant Hobbs when you’ve completed your hour.”

Eve’s opinion of Dudley was a little hum in her throat as he left the office. “He’s making it easy for us. If he didn’t particularly like Pearly, I’d say he respected him. Okay, Peabody, let’s get to work.”

She scanned the screens as her cop’s eyes had already scanned the room. She was nearly certain she’d spotted all the security cameras and recorders, and taking a chance on a very uncomfortable detention, shifted so that her body was partially blocked by Peabody’s.

She pulled the diamond Roarke had given her from under her shirt, ran it idly along its chain, and with her free hand slid the small recorder out, kept it pressed just at her throat as she aimed it at the screens.

“A clean life,” she said aloud. “No criminal record whatsoever. Parents married, still living, still based in Carmel. His father did military time, ranked colonel, served during the Urban Wars. Mother an MT with time off as professional parent. That’s a pretty solid upbringing.”

Peabody kept her eyes on the screen and off the recorder. “Solid education, too. Graduate of Princeton, with post-grad work at the World Learning Center on Space Station Freedom. That was right at its conception, and only the top students could get in. Married at thirty, just before his first run for office. Adjusted Population advocate. Requisite one child, male.”

She shifted her gaze to another screen. “His politics are dead center Liberal Party. Butted heads with your old friend DeBlass over the repeal of the Gun Ban and the Morality Bill DeBlass was pushing.”

“I have a feeling I would have liked the senator.” Eve turned slightly. “Scroll personal data to medical history.”

The screen flipped, and the technical terms made her eyes want to cross. She’d have them translated later, she thought, if she managed to get out of the facility with the recorder.

“Looked like a healthy specimen. Physical and mental records show no abnormality. Tonsils treated in childhood, a broken tibia in his twenties as a result of a sport injury. Sight correction, standard, in middle forties. A permanent sterilization procedure during the same period.”

“This is interesting.” Peabody continued to scan the political screen. “He was endorsing a bill that would require all legal representatives and technicians to be rescreened every five years, at their own expense. That wouldn’t sit too well with the legal community.”

“Or with Fitzhugh,” Eve murmured. “Looks like he was after the electronic empire, too. Tougher testing requirements for new devices, new licensing laws. That wouldn’t have made him Mister Popularity, either. Autopsy report,” she demanded, then narrowed her eyes when it flashed on screen.

She skimmed through the jargon, shook her head. “Boy, was he a mess when they scraped him up. Didn’t leave them a hell of a lot to work with. Brain scan and dissection. Nothing,” she said after a moment. No report here of an abnormality or flaw.”

“Display,” she demanded, and stepped closer to the screen to study the visual herself. “Cross section. Side view, enhance. What do you see, Peabody?”

“Unattractive gray matter, too damaged for transplant.”

“Enhance right hemisphere, frontal lobe. Jesus, what a f**king mess he made out of himself. You just can’t see. Can’t be sure.” She stared until her eyes burned. Was that a shadow, or was it simply part of the trauma caused when a human skull smashed brutally into concrete?