Visions in Death (In Death #19)(33)

"Consider yourself officially requested."

"Allying op."

"What?" But he'd already broken transmission.

Annoyed, she dug out her pocket unit and set to work trying to transfer the data she wanted from the desk unit to the PPC. She wasn't an e-geek, but she wasn't stupid, she told herself. She knew how to handle basic tech.

She was pulling her hair when McNab bopped in. He was wearing a purple shirt with a green placket down the center. It reached the thighs of baggy green pants with purple racing stripes. Both colors were picked up in his checked airsneaks.

"E-Man to the rescue," he announced. Today's complement of silver ear hoops dangled with purple and green beads. "What seems to be the problem?"

"If I knew the problem, I'd have fixed it myself."

"Right." He dumped a little silver toolbox on her desk, plopped into her chair. Rubbed his hands together. "Wow. Chocolate." He widened his grin, wiggled his brows.

"Shit. Go ahead. Consider it payment in advance."

"Uptown!"

"What?"

"Uptown." He bit into the candy. "You know, like... excellent. Let's have a look. I'll just open it for a standard diagnostic."

He gave a series of commands that might as well have been in Venutian to Eve's ears. A lot of codes and symbols and strange little shapes spilled on-screen, and the computer's voice responded in a kind of gasping croak.

"See! See!" Eve sprang to lean over McNab's shoulder. "That's not right, is it? That's not good."

"Well, hmmm. Just let me—"

"It's sabotage, isn't it?"

"You expecting sabotage?"

"You don't expect sabotage. That's why it's sabotage."

"There's a point. I need to look around some. Why don't you, ah, take a break maybe."

"You want me to leave my own office?"

He gave her a pained look. "Lieutenant."

"Okay, okay." She stuffed her hands in her pockets. "I'll be in the bullpen."

She heard his long, relieved sigh as she strode out.

She marched straight to Peabody's desk.

"Comp woes?" Peabody asked. " McNabstopped by for a second on his way in to you."

"They sabotaged it."

"Who are they?"

"If I knew who they were, I'd hunt them down and peel the skin off their bones while they begged for mercy."

"Uh-huh. Okay, so I got a hold of Deann Vanderlea. Somebody found the puppy."

"Huh. The dog?"

"Yeah, Mignon. She was nearly on the other side of the park, and a couple joggers found her, checked her collar ID. They brought her back."

"Was it injured?"

"No, just scared. Having the pup back will give them a little comfort. Anyway, she and her husband and the vic all used Total Health Fitness and Beauty for workouts and such, by the way. Not the kind of spot we're looking for as regards the killer's habits."

"It was good to check."

"She doesn't remember seeing anyone suspicious around the neighborhood. Doesn't recall noticing a big guy at any point, but she's going to ask her husband and some of her neighbors. The doorman."

"We'll canvass again anyway."

"Yeah. Father's out of the picture. Alibied by a couple thousand miles, and he doesn't fit the physical type we're after."

"He'd have been too easy. How about my vehicle?"

"I've got a line on that. Give me a little time."

"Everybody wants time today. Let's do a search on the health clubs. Manhattan-based to start."

Eve watched, with some irritation as Peabody's unit responded smoothly to her commands.

"How come the detectives and uniforms in this division have better equipment than I do? I'm the boss."

"You know, there's a theory that some people have a kind of mechanical..." The term deficiency sprang to Peabody's mind, but she was too concerned with her own health and safety to speak it. "Like an infection or something. And it affects the machines they operate."

"That's bullshit. I don't have any trouble with my home equipment."

"Just a theory," Peabody said, and hunched her shoulders. "Do you have to lurk there while this is running?"

"I have to lurk somewhere." Disgusted, Eve strode out. She'd get a tube of Pepsi, that's what she'd do. She'd cool off with a drink, then go back and hassle McNab.

She wanted to sit in her own damn office and do her own damn job. Was that too much to ask?

She approached a vending machine, then just stood there, staring at it resentfully. It would probably spit the Pepsi all over her, or send her some health drink just for spite.

"Hey, you." She signaled to a passing uniform, then dug out credits.

"Get me a tube of Pepsi."

The uniform looked down at the credits Eve dumped in her hand. "Ah, sure, Lieutenant."

The credits were plugged in; the machine responded with a cheerful and polite announcement of the selection and its contents. The tube slid quietly out of the slot.

"Here you go."

"Thanks."