Immortal in Death (12 page)

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Authors: J. D. Robb

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #New York (N.Y.), #Women Sleuths, #Mystery Fiction, #Police Procedural, #Political, #Models (Persons), #Policewomen, #Drug Traffic, #Police - New York (State) - New York, #Dallas; Eve (Fictitious Character), #Clothing Trade, #Models (Persons) - Crimes Against

BOOK: Immortal in Death
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Dennis lifted a bright red eyebrow. “I’ll be happy to give you one. Computer, copy disc and label. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, not at this time.” Eve accepted the disc and slipped it into her bag. “Thanks for your cooperation.”

“Cooperation is the glue of life,” he said as the panel slid shut behind them.

“Weird-o,” Feeney decided.

“An efficient one. You know, Mavis could have gotten into a tussle while she was club hopping. She could have gotten her face scratched, her clothes torn.”

“Yeah.” Determined to eat, Feeney stopped at an order table and requested a Jagger to go. “You ought to put something in your system, Dallas, besides worry and work.”

“I’m fine. I’m not much on the club scene, but if she had it in the back of her mind to go see Leonardo, she’d have walked south and east from here. Let’s check out what her most likely stop would have been.”

“Fine. Just hold on.” He made her wait until his takeout slid through the serving slot. He had the clear wrap off and the first bite in by the time they got to the car. “Damn good stuff. Always did like Jagger.”

“Hell of a way to live forever.” She started to request a map when her car ‘link beeped, signaling incoming transmission. “Lab report,” she murmured and focused on the screen. “Oh, goddamn it.”

“Hell, Dallas, this is a mess.” Appetite gone, Feeney stuffed the sandwich in his pocket. Both of them fell into silence.

The report was very clear. It was Mavis’s skin, and only Mavis’s, under the victim’s nails. Mavis’s prints, and only Mavis’s, on the murder weapon. And it was her blood, and only hers, mixed with the victim’s on scene.

The ‘link beeped again, and this time a face appeared on screen. “Prosecuting Attorney Jonathan Heartly, Lieutenant Dallas.”

” Acknowledged.”

“We’re issuing an arrest warrant for Freestone, Mavis, charge of murder, second degree. Please hold for transmission.”

“Didn’t waste any time,” Feeney grumbled.

CHAPTER SEVEN

She wanted to do it alone. Had to do it alone. She could count on Feeney to work on ferreting out any details that might weaken the case against Mavis. But the job had to be done, and she had to do it herself.

Still, she was glad when Roarke opened the door.

“I can see it in your face.” And he took her face in his hands. “I’m sorry, Eve.”

“I have a warrant. I have to take her in, book her. There’s nothing else I can do.”

“I know. Come here.” He gathered her close, held her as she burrowed her face in his shoulder. “We’ll find the piece of this that clears her, Eve.”

“Nothing I’ve found, nothing, Roarke, helps her. Everything makes it worse. The evidence, it’s all there. The motive’s there, the timing.” She drew back. “If I didn’t know her, I wouldn’t have a doubt.”

“But you do know her.”

“She’s going to be scared.” Frightened herself, Eve looked up the stairs, toward where Mavis would be waiting. “The PA’s office told me they wouldn’t block bail, but still, she’s going to need… Roarke, I hate to ask you — “

“You don’t have to. I’ve already contacted the best criminal defense team in the country.”

“I can’t pay you back for that.”

“Eve — “

“I don’t mean the money.” She took a shuddering breath and gripped both of his hands. “You don’t really know her, but you believe in her because I do. That’s what I can’t pay you back for. I have to go get her.”

“You want to do it alone.” He understood, and had already convinced himself not to argue the point. “I’ll alert her lawyers. What are the charges?”

“Murder two. I’ll have to deal with the media. It’s certainly going to leak that Mavis and I have history.” She pulled her hands through her disordered hair. “That may bleed over onto you.”

“Do you think that worries me?”

She nearly smiled. “No, I guess not. This may take awhile. I’ll bring her back as soon as I can.”

“Eve,” he murmured as she started up the stairs. “She believes in you, too. There’s good reason for it.”

“I hope you’re right.” Bracing herself, she continued up, walked slowly down the corridor to Mavis’s room, and knocked.

“Come on in, Summerset. I told you I’d come down for the cake. Oh.” Surprised, Mavis leaned back from the computer where she’d been struggling to write a new song. To cheer herself up, she’d worn a skin suit of bright sapphire and had dyed her hair to match. “I thought it was Summerset.”

“And cake.”

“Yeah, he buzzed in and told me the cook had baked a triple chocolate fudge cake. Summerset knows I’ve got this weakness. I know the two of you don’t get along, but he’s really sweet to me.”

“That’s because he keeps imagining you naked.”

“Whatever works.” She began to tap her tricolored nails on the console in a quick, nervous tattoo. “Anyway he’s been great. I guess if he thought I had my eye on Roarke, it’d be different. He’s like totally devoted. You’d think Roarke was his first and only born or something instead of his boss. That’s the only reason he gives you grief — Well, and you being a cop doesn’t help. I think Summerset has this block about cops.”

She broke off, trembled visibly. “I’m sorry, Dallas, I’m babbling. I’m so scared. You found Leonardo, didn’t you? Something’s really, really wrong. He’s hurt, isn’t he? He’s dead.”

“No, he’s not hurt.” Eve crossed the room and sat on the foot of the bed. “He came into the cop shop this morning. He had a cut on his arm, that’s all. The two of you had pretty much the same idea last night. He got tanked and headed for your place, ended up cutting his arm on an empty bottle he dropped before he keeled.”

“He was drunk?” Mavis sprang up at that. “He hardly ever drinks. He knows he can’t. He told me how he does things he can’t remember if he drinks too much. It scares him, and… To my place,” she said, eyes softening. “That’s so sweet. Then he came to see you because he couldn’t find me.”

“He came to see me to confess to the murder of Pandora.”

Mavis reared back as if Eve had struck her. “That’s impossible. Leonardo wouldn’t hurt anyone. He’s just not capable of it. He was just trying to protect me.”

“He didn’t know anything about your involvement at that time. He believes he must have argued with Pandora, fought with her, then killed her.”

“Well, that’s absolutely wrong.”

“So the evidence indicates.” Eve rubbed her weary eyes, kept her fingers pressed there for a moment. “The cut on his arm came from a piece of the broken bottle. None of his blood was found at the scene, none of Pandora’s was on the clothes he’d been wearing. We haven’t pinned down his movements precisely as yet, but we don’t have anything on him.”

Mavis missed a beat, caught up. “Oh, then it’s all right. You didn’t believe him.”

“I haven’t decided that, but the evidence, at this point, keeps him clear.”

“Thank God.” Mavis slid down onto the bed beside Eve. “When can I see him, Dallas? Leonardo and I have to work things out between us.”

“That may take a little time.” Eve squeezed her eyes shut, opened them again, made herself look at Mavis. “I have to ask you for a favor, the biggest anyone’s ever asked you.”

“Is it going to hurt?”

“Yeah.” Eve watched Mavis’s attempt at a smile fade away. “I have to ask you to trust me to take care of you. To believe that I’m so good at my job that nothing, however small, will get past me. I have to ask you to remember you’re my closest friend, and that I love you.”

Mavis’s breath started to jerk. Her eyes stayed dry, burning dry. The saliva evaporated from her mouth. “You’re going to arrest me.”

“The lab reports came in.” She caught Mavis’s hands, held them hard in hers. “They weren’t a surprise, because I knew someone had set things up. I was expecting this, Mavis. I hoped I could find something — anything — before it did, but I haven’t been able to. Feeney’s working on it, too. He’s the best, Mavis, trust me here. And Roarke’s already lined up the top defense lawyers known to man. It’s just procedure.”

“You have to arrest me for murder.”

“It’s murder two. That’s a small break. I know it doesn’t sound like one, but the PA’s office isn’t going to try to block bail. I’ll have you back here eating cake in a few hours.”

But her mind was replaying one segment, over and over. It’s murder two. It’s murder two. “You have to put me in a cage.”

Eve’s lungs were burning, and the sensation was rapidly moving toward her heart. “Not for long. I swear it. Feeney’s working right now to get the preliminary hearing up and running. He’s got plenty of markers he can pull in. By the time we’ve got you through booking, you’ll have the hearing, the judge will set bail, and you’ll be back here.”

Wearing an ident alarm to track her movements, Eve thought. Trapped in the house to avoid the stalking media. The cage would be plush and friendly, but it would still be a cage.

“You make it sound easy.”

“It’s not going to be easy, but it’ll be easier if you remember you’ve got a couple of top cops on your side. Don’t waive any of your rights, okay? Any of them. And once we start this, you wait for your lawyers. Don’t say anything to me you don’t have to say. Don’t say anything to anyone. Understand me?”

“All right.” Mavis drew her hands away, rose. “Let’s get it over with.”

Hours later, when it was done, Eve stepped back into the house. The lights were low. She hoped Mavis had taken the tranq Eve had recommended and gone to sleep. Eve already knew she wouldn’t do the same.

She knew Feeney would have followed her request to pass Mavis personally over to Roarke. There had been other work to do. The press conference had been particularly hideous. As expected, questions about her friendship with Mavis had been brought up, conflict of interest hinted at. She owed the commander a great deal for the appearance he’d put in and his statement of absolute faith in his primary investigator.

The one on one with Nadine Furst had been a little easier. All you had to do, Eve thought glumly as she climbed the stairs, was save a person’s life, and they were happy to take your side. The blood lust for the story might have been in Nadine’s heart, but so was a sense of debt. Mavis would get fair treatment from Channel 75.

Then Eve had done something she had never believed she would do. She had voluntarily called the police psychiatrist and made an appointment to talk with Dr. Mira.

Could still cancel it, she reminded herself and rubbed her gritty eyes. Probably will cancel it.

“You’re quite late, Lieutenant, after an eventful day.”

She dropped her hands and saw Summerset step silently out of a room to her right. He was, as usual, dressed in his stiff black, his stern face set in disapproving lines. Hating her seemed to be something he did with almost as much seamless skill as he ran the household.

“Don’t hassle me, Summerset.”

He stepped directly into her path. “I had believed, though you have countless flaws, you were, at least, a competent investigator. I see now, you are not, any more than you are a competent friend to one who depended on you.”

“You really think after what I’ve been through tonight that you can say anything to touch me?”

“I don’t believe anything touches you, Lieutenant. You’re without loyalty and that makes you nothing. Less than nothing.”

“Maybe you’ve got a suggestion of how I could have handled it. Maybe I should have had Roarke fire up one of his JetStars and shoot Mavis off planet to some remote little hideaway. Then she could be on the run for the rest of her life.”

“At least then she might not have wept herself to sleep.”

The arrow pierced, directly under the heart where it had been aimed. Pain shimmered through fatigue. “Get out of my way, you bastard, and keep out of my way.” She shoved by him, but stopped herself from running. She walked into the master bedroom just as Roarke was replaying her press conference on screen.

“You did well here,” he said and rose. “Under tremendous pressure.”

“Yeah, I’m a real pro.” She walked into the bathroom, then stood staring at herself in the mirror. She saw a woman, pale face, dark, shadowed eyes, grim mouth. And she saw beyond it to helplessness.

“You’re doing everything you can,” Roarke said quietly from behind her.

“You got her good lawyers.” Ordering water cold, she leaned down, splashed it liberally over her face. “They juggled me through Interview. I was tough. Gotta be tough. But they’ve got some moves on them. Next time I’ve got to grill a friend, I’ll be sure to sign them up.”

He watched her bury her face in a towel. “When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

She merely shook her head. The question had no relevance. “The reporters were out for blood. Someone like me’s very juicy game. Couple of high-profile cases, I come out on top. Some of them would just love to see me take it between the eyes. Think of the ratings.”

“Mavis doesn’t blame you, Eve.”

“I blame me,” she exploded, heaving the towel aside. “I blame me, goddamn it. I told her to trust me, I told her I’d take care of things. How did I take care of it, Roarke? I arrested her, I booked her. Prints, mug shots, voice ident, all of it on file now. I put her through a horrible two-hour interview. I locked her in a cell until the lawyers you hired for her got her out on bail you posted. I hate myself.”

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