Figuring Peabody would be at it hours yet, Eve went from lunch to Whitney's office to update him.
"You think a school with a reputation like Brookhollow is a front for what, sex slavery?"
"I think it pertains."
Whitney dragged his fingers through his short crop of hair. "If memory serves, it was on my wife's list of potential colleges for our daughter."
"Did you apply?"
"Most of that process is, thankfully, a blur. Mrs. Whitney would remember."
"Sir, speaking of Mrs. Whitney . .." Touchy, touchy. "I've sent Baxter in on an informal recon, under, as a potential client. Get him in, tour the facilities, check out the system. However, I wondered, should it become necessary, would Mrs. Whitney agree to talk with me about her, um, experience?"
He looked, for a moment, as pained as Eve felt. "She won't care for it, but she's a cop's wife. If you need a statement, she'll give you one.
"Thank you, Commander. I doubt I will. I hope I won't."
"So, Lieutenant, do I. More than you know."
From there, she went to Mira's office, wheedled her way past the admin between patients. She didn't sit, though Mira gestured to a chair.
"You okay?" Eve asked her.
"A bit dented, actually. Both of them gone. I knew Will, enjoyed him and his family on the occasions we got together."
"How would you characterize his relationship with his wife?"
"Affectionate, a bit old-fashioned, happy."
"Old-fashioned in what sense?"
"My impression is that he very much headed the house. That it ran around his needs and routine, but my impression is also that the dynamic suited them. She's a very loving and devoted mother, and enjoyed being a doctor's wife. She has talent, but seemed happy to dabble with her art rather than passionately pursue it."
"And if I told you she had a part in the murders?"
Mira's eyes blinked, then widened. "On the basis of my profession. evaluation of her character, I would disagree."
"You saw them socially-now and then. You saw them as they wanted to be seen. Would you agree?"
"Yes, but... Eve, my profile of the killer indicates a cool-headed, efficient, highly controlled individual. My impressions of Avril Icove- and these come over years-is of a soft-hearted, mild-tempered woman who was not only content with her life but enjoyed living it."
"He raised her for his son."
"What?"
"I know it. Icove molded her, educated her, trained her, he all but fucking created her as the perfect mate for his son. He wasn't a man to settle for less than perfect."
She sat now, leaned forward. "He sent her to school-small, exclusive, private, where he had control. He, and his friend and associate, Jonah Wilson. A geneticist."
"Wait." Mira held up both hands. "Wait. Are you talking about gene manipulation? She was five or more when Wilfred took over her guardianship."
"Maybe, or maybe there was an interest in her long before. There's a relationship between her and Wilson's wife. They share a family name, yet there's no data on the connection. There had to be a relationship between her mother and Icove, who became her guardian. Wilson and his wife founded the school-Icove sent Avril there."
"There may very well be some connection, which might very well be why he chose the school. The simple fact that he knew or had an association with a geneticist-"
"There are bans on gene manipulations that veer outside of disease and defect control. Put there because people, and science, always want more. If you can cure or fix an embryo, why not make it to order? I'll have a girl, thanks, blonde, blue eyes, and give her a pert little nose while you're at it. People pay a hell of a lot for perfection."
"These are huge leaps, Eve."