Creation in Death (In Death 25) - Page 141

“Why did you wait so long to look for those reflections?”

“The medication. My father was very insistent about my medication, and monitored me quite closely. The understanding, the clarity of mind needed for the work dulls with the medication.”

“But Corrine Dagby, here in New York nine years ago, she wasn’t your first.” Eve shook her head. “Not nearly. You had to practice, to perfect. How many were there before Corrine?”

“I learned from my grandfather, continued my education, and worked in the family business. I practiced on the dead under my grandfather’s tutelage. And I traveled. I first began serious practice nearly twenty years ago, after my father’s death. I had a great deal to learn and experience first. It took me another decade before I felt ready to begin the projects. I did document all the others, the failures, the near successes. You’ll find all that in my records.”

“Handy.” Eve glanced over at the knock on the door. Peabody poked her head in.

“Excuse me, Lieutenant. Can I see you just for a minute?”

“Yeah. Keep going,” she said to Feeney, then stepped outside.

“Roarke just tagged me. He asked if I’d tell you that he was able to finish the work he needed to deal with, and since it’s cleaned up, he was heading back down. He said he hoped to see you finish the interview.”

“Okay. I need you and McNab to check on this bastard’s ST. No point in taking his word that he’s got the go to clock out. Check all his personal data taken from the scene, wake up his lawyers in London. His doctors, if you find their data. I want confirmation he’s not stringing us on it.”

“Why would he—”

“Just get me confirmation, Peabody.”

“Yes, sir.”

Eve went back in, slid into a chair as Feeney pried more details out of Lowell.

“I meant to ask you,” she inserted, “how long Edwina Spring lasted. Her time.”

“My grandfather employed different methods, with longer rest periods than I’ve found necessary. Regardless, she was very strong, and had a high survival instinct. It was ninety-seven hours, forty-one minutes, and eight seconds. No one has ever reached her capacity. I believe you may have done so, which is why I wanted to end with you as I’d begun with her.”

“I wonder how long you’d last,” Eve commented, and rose as Peabody appeared at the door again.

Eve stepped out and eased the door closed behind them. “And?”

“I don’t get it. There’s no documentation supporting his claim. Nothing in his records, nothing in the official data banks, and McNab searched through them twice. I contacted the London lawyer—head of the firm, who was not pleased to be disturbed at home.”

“Aw.”

“Yeah. He did the privacy dance. I explained that his client was under arrest for multiple murders, and hauling out this ST claim to avoid trial and incarceration. Pulled the commander into it. Legal guy claimed Lowell had secured certification, but he couldn’t produce the documentation either. Went a little nuts about it. He’s spouting about holding interviews and so on, but he doesn’t have any pull in the U.S. of A.”

“That’s all I need.”

“But—”

“Going to wrap this up now, Peabody. Good job.”

Eve walked back in, closed the door in Peabody’s face. “Just to summarize,” Eve began. “You have confessed, with full understanding of your rights and obligations, having waived any counsel or representation, to the crimes heretofore documented?”

“‘Crimes’ is your word, but yes, I have.”

“How long did the medicals estimate you had left?”

“No more than two years, with the last several months extremely painful, unpleasant, and demeaning even with medication. I prefer a quiet and controlled end to my time.”

“I bet you do. But you know, you’re not going to get it. You don’t have any ST certification on record. Bob.”

“I certainly do.”

“Nope—and your fancy Brit lawyers can’t produce one either.” She laid her palms on the table, leaned over into his face. “No record means we’re under no obligation to take your word for it, under no obligation to accommodate your easy out. A couple of years isn’t as much as I’d like, but you’ll be spending it in a box. You’ll be spending some of it in pain, in distress, in despair.”

Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery
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