Eternity in Death (In Death 25.50)

He was called Dickhead for a reason, and it had everything to do with his personality. Eve throttled back. “I think he switched them on me. It’s his DNA on the vic, but it’s not his in the vial you have. I’ve got an idea how he pulled it off, but the question right now is: If it’s not his blood in the

vial, whose is it?”

It was obvious Berenski had been expecting a battle. Now, caught off guard, he was more accommodating than he normally would be without a substantial bribe. “Well, if we got the DNA in the system, I can find it for you.”

“I did a standard search, crapped out.”

“Global?”

“Yeah, do I look like this is my first day on the job? But I didn’t run deceased.”

“Blood from a corpse? How’s that going to end up in some mope’s veins?”

“Not in his veins, in a damn vial he palmed off on me. Can you do a global search, deceased donor?”

“Sure.”

“How fast?”

He wiggled his spidery fingers. “Watch and learn.”

He went back to his station, the long white counter with comps and screens and command centers. Sliding back and forth on his stool, he began to work—verbal orders, manual keys.

While he ran the searches, Eve drew out her ’link and tried Feeney.

Her old partner and the captain of EDD popped on her screen. He had a Danish in one hand, and a mouth full of the hefty bite missing from it. “Yo.”

“Roarke’s on his way in. Put him to work. I’ve got a ’link trans, voice mail, from a vic while she was being attacked. Lost the trans almost as soon. It’s dark, it’s jumpy, but if you can clean it up, I might burn this bastard quick.”

“Take a look.” He swallowed. “This your vampire?”

“Come on.”

“Hey, before your time I took down this asshole who was grave robbing, then sewing body parts together. Thought he could make himself a Frankenstein. Weird shit happens. He take another one?”

“Yeah, early this morning.”

Contemplatively, Feeney took another bite of Danish. “McNab said he pulled out a syringe and gave you blood right on the spot.”

“Yeah. There was a screwup there. Looks like mine. I’ll fill you in later. Anything you can do on the trans, Feeney, I’d appreciate.”

“Your man gets here, we’ll do some magic. Meanwhile, you go up against this guy, wouldn’t hurt to take a cross along.” He lifted his eyebrows when she just stared at him. “Kid, weird shit happens because people are fucking crazy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She clicked off just as Berenski made a sound of victory. “Got your blood. And I’m forced to say, ‘Damn good call, Dallas’.”

“I’m forced to say, ‘Damn fast work’.”

“I’m the best. Pensky, Gregor.” He tapped the ID picture on his screen.

Square face, Eve noted. Small eyes, pinched mouth. The data put him at two-ten and six-one, with a long sheet of violent crimes.

It also listed him as dead for nearly a year.

“How’d he get to be a corpse?” Eve demanded.

“Son of a bitch.” Berenski pursed his thin lips. “Been running DNA on a DB.” He called for the data.