Origin in Death (In Death 21)

"You did good." Louise patted Peabody's knee. "The injuries you sustained from the assault were damned serious, and it was only a few weeks ago. You worked hard to come back this fast.”

"Sturdy constitution helps." Secretly, Peabody wished she were more delicate, more fine-boned, like Louise.

"If we're all caught up now?" Eve narrowed her eyes.

"Yes, I knew Dr. Icove, and know his son a little, professionally. What happened is a tragedy. He was a pioneer in his field, and very likely had decades left to work and enjoy life."

"You knew him personally?"

"Through my family somewhat." Louise's blood was wealthy blue. "I admired his work and his dedication. I hope you quickly find who killed him."

"I'm looking through some of his case files, particularly at this point the ones he kept in his home office. He had his unit passcoded, his discs sealed, and the text coded.”

Louise pursed her lips. "Very cautious."

"In them, he refers to his patients by letter and number, never by name."

"Extremely cautious. He had many important people, political types, celebrities, business moguls, and so on as patients-or so one assume-as he never revealed names."

"Doubtful in this case. All female, all between the ages of seventeen and twenty-two."

Louise's elegant eyebrows drew together. "All?"

"More than fifty, all documented for treatment over the course or four to five years on these discs."

Her attention was caught now as Louise straightened. "What kind of treatment?"

"You tell me." Eve took out a hard copy of one of the discs, passed the several pages across the coffee table.

As she read, Louise's brow knitted. She began to murmur to herself, shake her head. "Experimental, certainly, and vague on the details. These can't be his actual case notes. It's an overview: physical, mental, emotional, intelligence. Treating the whole patient, as was his method. One I agree with. But... Young female subject, excellent physical con­dition, high intelligence quotient, small corrections to vision and facial structure. Four years of study and treatments wrapped in a few pages. There has to be more."

"Is the subject human?"

Louise's eyes flicked up, then back to the notes again. "The vitals and treatments all indicate a human female. One who was tested regu­larly, and thoroughly, not only for defects and disease but for mental and artistic progress and prowess. There were fifty of these?"

"That I've found, to date."

"Placement," Louise said softly. "Educational placement? Employ­ment?"

"Dallas doesn't think so," Charles commented with his eyes on Eve's.

"Then what-" Louise broke off, reading the look that passed be­tween her lover and Eve. "Oh God."

"You have to be tested to get an LC license," Eve began.

"That's right." Charles picked up his coffee. "You're tested physically to ensure against disease or condition. You undergo some psychi­atric evals, to hopefully eliminate any sexual deviants or predators. And to keep your license current, you're required to have regular exams."

"And there are various levels, with various fee scales."

"Of course. The level of your license is determined not only by your preference, but your skills. Intelligence, knowledge of art and enter­tainment, your ... style. A street level, for instance, isn't required to be able to discuss art history with a client, or know Puccini from pig Latin."

"The higher the level, the bigger the fee."

"Correct."

"And the higher the level placed, the bigger the placement fee for the agency that either trains or tests and certifies the LC."