Origin in Death (In Death 21)
Page 18
"Yeah, looks like. But what does he do?"
"You just said-"
"It's not enough, Peabody. Guy's a big wheel, big brain, creates centers, foundations, all but single-handedly advances his field of expertise. Now he what, takes the occasional case, or consults, bops off to lecture or consult out of town. Plays with his grandkids a couple days a week. It's not enough," she repeated, shaking her head. "Where's the kick? No sign he's sexually active, at least not regularly. No sport or hobby equipment in here. Nothing in his data to indicate interests in those areas. He doesn't golf, play retired-guy games. Basically, he's pushing paper and buying suits. He'd need more than this."
"Such as?"
"I don't know." She turned, frowned into the office space. "Something. Contact EDD. I want to know what's on that computer."
More out of habit than necessity, Eve slated the morgue as next on her list. She found Morris, chief medical examiner, loitering in the tiled hallway at Vending-and if she wasn't mistaken, flirting with a stupendously endowed blonde.
Big breasts and batting lashes aside, Eve made the blonde as a cop. They broke off as she approached, and each turned eyes sparking with lust in her direction.
It was more than a little disconcerting.
"Hey, Morris."
"Dallas. Looking for your dead?"
"No, I just like the party atmosphere around here."
He smiled. "Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Coltraine, recently transplanted to our fair city from Savannah."
"Detective."
"I've only been with the four-two for a couple of weeks, but I've already heard of you, Lieutenant."
She had a voice like melted butter and eyes of drowning blue. "Nice meeting you."
"Sure. My partner, Detective Peabody."
"Welcome to New York."
"Sure is different from home. Well, I've got to get along. Appreciate the time, Dr. Morris, and the Coke." She held up the tube from Vending, batted those lashes again, then sort of glided down the hall of death.
"Magnolia blossom." Morris sighed. "In full bloom."
"You must be full up, sucking all that nectar."
"Just a little taste. Usually I steer clear of cops, in that area. But I may have to make an exception."
"Just because I'm not going to bat my lashes at you doesn't mean you can't buy me a drink."
He grinned at her. "Coffee?"
"I want to live, and the coffee here's poison. Pepsi, and the same for my pal, who will also not be batting lashes at you. Only the I'm-forever-on-a-diet variety for Peabody."
He ordered two tubes. "Her first name's Amaryllis."
"Oh, Christ."
"Ammy for short."
"You're making me sick, Morris."
He tossed her a tube, passed the second to Peabody. "Let's go see your dead guy. That'll make you feel better."
He led the way. He wore a suit the color of walnuts, with a dull gold shirt. His dark hair was pulled back into two queues, one stacked on the other and twined with gold cord.