Survivor In Death (In Death #20)(84)

“He's not in a cage yet. He co-owns a dojo in Queens. Flash place with Master Lu, his partner.”

“Lu the Dragon?”

“Yeah.” She was able to smile now, though it didn't quite move up into her eyes. “Who says we've got nothing in common? You catch him wiping the floor with the Korean to take his third Olympic gold?”

“I did, yes. Front row.”

“Okay, not so much in common, as I caught it on a screen in a bar in Hell's Kitchen. Anyway, Lu comes up clean. He deals with Kirkendall through the magic of E. Sends required paperwork and profits electronically. Says he hasn't seen his partner in six years. I believe him.”

“And you'd like me to trace the transmissions and deposits.”

“Check. Lu's equipment's in your comp lab. Pickup officer confirmed its delivery.”

“I'll get started.” But he crossed to her first, stroked his fingers down her cheek. “I don't like to see you sad.”

“I'll have a big, toothy smile on my face when I close this case.”

He kissed her lightly. “I'll hold you to that, Lieutenant.”

Discreetly, Peabody waited until he'd left before coming out with the coffee. “You want me to set up on your secondary unit?”

“Yeah.” Eve took the coffee. “I'm going to take a poke at Yancy's theory. If Kirkendall's had major face sculpting, wouldn't he trust-- first--a military surgeon? Guy spends nearly twenty in, it doesn't seem like he'd go to a civilian.”

“That kind of change has to be recorded,” Peabody pointed out. “You can't radically change your appearance without filing fresh ID. If Yancy's right, and he did, we wouldn't be looking for a surgeon on the up.”

“Covert ops, guys have work done. Temp and permanent. We'll see if he had any before, and who he trusted to do the job.”

She sat at her desk, called up Kirkendall's military data. And Mira walked in.

“I'm sorry to interrupt you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Teeth set in frustration, Eve sat back, lifted her hands. “What?”

“I need to speak with you regarding Nixie.”

“Look, you're in charge of her counseling. You want to do a session, pick your spot. As long as it's not in here.”

“We've had a session. She's having a difficult day.”

“She should get in line.” Eve.

“I'm doing what I need to do.” Her earlier rage began to bubble back. “And I can't do it if somebody's forever in my face telling me I've got to go pat the kid on the head and give her a there, there. I can't--”

“Lieutenant.”

Safely across the room, Peabody hunched her shoulders. It was the same tone her own mother used to stop any one of her children in their tracks.

“Fine. What? I'm listening. I'm all fricking ears.”

And that, Peabody thought as she slid down another inch in her chair, was the tone that would have resulted in immediate annihilation should she, or a sibling, have dared to use it.

“I hope you find it cathartic to take your frustration out on me.”

If she'd been sure no one would notice, Peabody would have chosen that point to slink out of the room.

“However,” Mira continued in a voice cool enough to scatter frost on the windows, “we're discussing a child in our charge, not your poor manners.”

“Well, Jesus, I'm just--”

“Regarding that child,” Mira interrupted. “She needs to see her family.”

“Her family's in the damn morgue.”

“I'm aware of that, and so is she. She needs to see them, to begin to say good-bye. You and I are both aware of the importance of this step with survivors. The stages of her grief require this.”

“I told her I'd fix it so she'd see them. But for Christ's sake, not like this. You want to take a kid to the morgue so that she can see her family pulled out of containment drawers?”

“Yes.”

“With their throats cut.”

Impatience rippled over Mira's face. “I've spoken with ME Morris. There are ways, which you very well know, to treat wounds and injuries on the dead, to spare their loved ones. He's agreed to do so. It's not possible for her to attend any sort of service or memorial for her family until this case is closed and her safety is insured. She needs to see them.”

“I've got her here in lockdown for a reason.” Eve dragged her hands through her hair when Mira only stood, gaze cool and level. “Okay, fine. I can get you secure transpo there and back. I'll need to coordinate it with Morris. We get her in the delivery door--no record, no ID scans. He clears the area so you can take her straight into a view room. Out the same way. It'll have to be quick. Ten minutes.”

“That's acceptable. She'll need you there.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute.”

“Like it or not, you're her touchstone. You were there when she last saw them. You're the one she believes will find the people responsible. She needs you to be there in order to feel safe. We'll be ready to leave as soon as you arrange secure transportation.”

Eve sat, too stunned to work up a glare as Mira walked out.