Rapture in Death (In Death #4)(78)

“That penalty,” Peabody said smoothly, “carries a maximum term of five years in full lockup. Shall I replay the pertinent data from the initial interview, Lieutenant? The subject’s memory might be faulty due to the injury received while assaulting an officer.”

“Assault, my ass.” He snarled at Peabody. “You think you can double-team me this way? She struck me without provocation, then let that bastard she married come in and…”

He trailed off, remembering the warning Roarke had issued in a soft, silky voice directly in his ear. While the pain, almost sweet in its intensity, had radiated through his system.

“You wish to make an official complaint?” Eve asked.

“No.” Even now, a light line of sweat beaded on his upper lip and made Eve wonder just what Roarke had done to him. “I was upset last night. Things got out of hand.” He took a steadying breath. “Listen, I’m a musician. I take a lot of pride in my work, in the art of it. I like to think what I do influences people, touches them. My pride in that might have given you the wrong impression as to the scope of my work. Basically, I don’t know what all the fuss is about.”

He smiled again, with a good deal of his usual charm, and spread his handsome hands. “Those people you talked about last night. I don’t know them. I’ve heard of some of them, sure, but I didn’t know them personally or have anything to do with their decision to self-terminate. I’m against it, myself. In my opinion, life’s too short as it is. This is all a misunderstanding, and I’m willing to forget it.”

Eve leaned back in her chair, sent a look toward her aide. “Peabody, he’s willing to forget it.”

“That’s generous of him, Lieutenant, and not surprising, under the circumstances. A stretch for breaking the statute on personal privacy through electronics is stringent. And, of course, there’s the added charge of designing and implementing equipment designed for individual subliminals. Right there, with the multiple counts, you’re looking at a ten-year minimum in the cages.”

“You can’t begin to prove any of it. Any of it. You’ve got no case here.”

“I’m giving you a chance to roll over here, Jess. They go easier on you when you roll. And as to the civil case that my husband and I are entitled to bring against you, I will state here, for the record, that I will waive that right, contingent on your admission of guilt on the criminal charges — if that admission comes in the next thirty seconds. Think about it.”

“I don’t have to think about anything, because you’ve got nothing.” He leaned forward. “You’re not the only one with people behind you. What do you think will happen to your big, bad career if I go to the press with this?”

She said nothing, just watched him, then glanced at the time count on the recorder. “Offer is rescinded.” Eve nodded at the monitoring camera. “Peabody, please uncode the door for Captain Feeney.”

When Feeney walked in, he was beaming. He set a disc and file on the table and stuck out his hand to Jess. “I’ve got to tell you, your work’s the best I’ve ever seen. It’s a real pleasure to meet you.”

“Thanks.” Jess shifted to audience mode, shook hands warmly. “I love my work.”

“Oh, it shows.” Feeney sat down, made himself comfortable. “I haven’t enjoyed anything for years as much as I did taking that console apart.”

Another time, another place, it might have been comic, the way Jess’s face underwent the transformation from obliging star to blank shock to ripe fury. “You f**ked with my equipment? Took it apart? You had no right laying a hand on it! You’re meat! You’re dead! You’re destroyed!”

“Let the record show the subject is overwrought,” Peabody recited blandly. “His threats against the person of Captain Feeney are accepted as emotional rather than literal.”

“Well, the first time, anyway,” Feeney said cheerfully. “You want to watch your step there, friend. Put too much of that on record, and we tend to get pissy. Now.” He leaned forward on his elbows. “Let’s talk shop. You had some great security, admirable. Took me a while to bypass. But then, I’ve been in the game as long as you’ve been breathing. Designing that personal brain scanner was some accomplishment. So compact, so delicate to the touch. I gauged its range at two yards. Now, that’s damn good for that small and portable a unit.”

“You didn’t get into my equipment.” Jess’s voice wavered. “You’re bluffing. You couldn’t get down to the core.”

“Well, the three fail safes were tricky,” Feeney admitted. “I spent nearly an hour on the second one, but the last was really just padding. I guess you never figured you’d need anything at that level.”

“Did you run the discs, Feeney?” Eve asked him.

“Started on them. You’re on there, Dallas. We don’t have Roarke’s on file. Civilian, you know. But I found yours and Peabody’s.”

Peabody blinked. “Mine?”

“I’m running comparison checks on the names you requested, Dallas.” He smiled broadly at Jess again. “You’ve been busy, collecting specimens. That’s a fine storage option you designed, terrific data compression capabilities. It’s going to break my heart to destroy that equipment.”