Vengeance in Death (In Death #6)(37)

“No, but only because someone beat me to it. He was low on my list of priorities.” Roarke came back, sat again. “Eve, Summerset had no part in what I did. He wasn’t even aware of what I planned to do. It wasn’t his way — isn’t his way. He ran cons, bilked marks, lifted wallets.”

“You don’t need to defend him to me. I’ll do my best for him.” She let out a breath. “Starting now by ignoring regulations, again, and using your unregistered equipment to run names. Let’s start on those lists.”

He got to his feet, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “It’s always a pleasure working with you, Lieutenant.”

“Just remember who’s in charge.”

“I’ve no doubt you’ll remind me. Regularly.” He slipped an arm around her waist when she stood. “Next time we make love, you can wear your badge. In case I forget who’s in charge.”

She eyed him narrowly. “Nobody likes a smart-ass.”

“I do.” He planted a kiss between her scowling eyes. “I love one.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Eve stared at the list of names on the wall screen in Roarke’s private room. The equipment installed there was every hacker’s wet dream. He’d indulged himself in aesthetics in the rest of the house, but this room was all business.

Illegal business, she thought, since all its information, research, and communications devices were unregistered with CompuGuard. Nothing that went in or came out of that room could be tracked.

Roarke sat at the U-shaped console, like a pirate, she thought, at the helm of a very snazzy ship. He hadn’t engaged the auxiliary station with its jazzy laser fax and hologram unit. She imagined he didn’t think he required the extra zip, just yet.

She stuck her hands in her pockets, tapped her boot on the glazed tile floor and read off the names of the dead.

“Charles O’Malley. Murder by disembowelment, August 5, 2042. Unsolved. Matthew Riley. Murder by evisceration, November, 12, 2042. Donald Cagney. Murder by hanging, April 22, 2043. Michael Rowan. Murder by suffocation, December 2, 2043. Rory McNee, murder by drowning, March 18, 2044. John Calhoun, murder by poisoning, July 31, 2044.”

She let out a long breath. “You averaged two a year.”

“I wasn’t in a hurry. Would you like to read their bios?” He didn’t call them up, simply continued to sit, staring at the viewing screen across the room. “Charles O’Malley, age thirty-three, small-time thug and sexual deviant. Suspected of raping his sister and his mother. Charges dismissed through lack of evidence. Suspected of torture-murder of an eighteen-year-old licensed companion whose name no one bothered to remember. Charges dismissed through lack of interest. A known free-lance spine cracker and debt collector who enjoyed his work. His trademark was shattering kneecaps. Marlena’s knees were broken.”

“All right, Roarke.” She held up a hand. “It’s enough. I need you to run their families, friends, lovers. With luck we can find a computer jock or communications freak among them.”

Because he didn’t want to say their names again, he typed in the request manually. “It’ll take a few minutes. We’ll bring up the list of contacts I had on viewing screen three.”

“Who else knew what you were doing?” she asked as she watched names begin to scroll on screen.

“I didn’t pop into the pub after and brag about it over a pint.” He moved his shoulders dismissively. “But word and rumor travel. I wanted it known in any case. I wanted to give them time to sweat.”

“You’re a scary guy, Roarke,” she murmured, then turned to him. “At a guess, then, most anyone in Dublin — hell, in the known universe — could have gotten wind of it.”

“I found Cagney in Paris, Rowan on Tarus Three, and Calhoun here in New York. The wind blows, Eve.”

“Jesus.” She pressed her fingers to her eyes. “Okay, this won’t help. We need to cull it down to interested parties, people with a connection with one or more of… your list. People with a grudge against you.”

“A number of people harbor grudges. If it was about me personally, why is Summerset being set up instead of me?”

“He’s the bridge. They’re walking over him to get to you.” She began to pace while she thought it through. “I’m going to consult with Mira, hopefully tomorrow, but my take is if this goes back to Marlena, whoever is behind it sees Summerset as the cause. Without him, no Marlena, without Marlena you wouldn’t have played vigilante. So you both have to pay. He wants you to sweat. Coming at you direct isn’t going to make that happen. He has to know you well enough to understand that. But going after someone who matters to you, that’s different.”

“And if Summerset was taken out of the equation?”

“Well, then, it would —” She broke off, heart jumping as she whirled. “Wait a minute, wait a minute. Don’t even think about it.” She slapped her hands on the console. “You promise me, you have to give me your word you won’t help him disappear. That’s not the way to play this out.”

He was silent for a long moment. “I’ll give you my word to play this out your way as long as I possibly can. But he’s not going in a cage, Eve, not for something I’m responsible for.”

“You have to trust me not to let that happen. If you go that far outside the law, Roarke, I’ll have to go after him. I won’t have a choice.”