Origin in Death (In Death 21)
Page 119
"I'm entitled to expect you to be perfect, because that's how I see you. So if you go around acting flawed and human like the rest of us lower beings, it's going to throw me off."
"That's so completely unfair. And touching. Do you know there's no one in this world who can annoy me so much as you, other than Dennis and my own children?"
Eve slid her hands into her pockets. "I guess that's supposed to be touching, too, but it sounds like a slap."
A smile whispered around Mira's lips. "That's a mother's trick, and one of my favorites. Good night, Eve."
Eve stood at the glass, watched the two women. They nibbled on what looked to her like a grilled chicken salad, sipped water.
They spoke little, then only about the innocuous. The food, the weather, the house. Eve continued to study them when the door opened and Roarke stepped in.
"Does having a conversation with your clone constitute talking to yourself?"
"One of the many questions and satirical remarks that will be made if and when this becomes public knowledge." He moved to her, behind her, laid his hands on her shoulders. And found exactly the spot where the worst of the tension knotted.
"Relax a bit, Lieutenant."
"Gotta stay up. I'm giving it about ten more minutes, then we'll juggle them around again."
"I take it you and Mira have made up."
"I don't know what we did. I guess we're down to irritated rather than supremely pissed."
"Progress. Did you discuss the fact that Reo told you what you'd hoped to hear?"
She let out a sigh. "No. I guess she was irritated enough that one got by her." She glanced over her shoulder, met his eyes. "Not you, though."
"I'm not irritated with you, which is approaching a term record, I believe. You don't want them punished. Charged and tried and judged."
"No. I don't want them punished. Not my call, but it's not what I want. It's not justice to lock them up. They've been locked up all their lives. It has to stop. What's being done, what they're doing."
He leaned over, kissed the top of her head.
"They've got a place to go already. Got a place to run already set up. Deena would have that nailed down. I could probably find it, sooner or later."
"Given enough time, I imagine so." Now he stroked her hair. "Is that what you want?"
"No." She reached back to take his hand. "Once they get sprung, I don't want to know where they are. Then I don't have to lie about it. I've got to get back to this."
He turned her, kissed her. "Let me know if you need me."
She worked them. Took them as a group, separated them. She tag-teamed them with Peabody. She let them sit alone, then hit them once more.
She was going by the book, right down the line. No one studying the record of the interview could claim it wasn't thorough or correct.
They never dema
nded a lawyer, not even when she fit them with homing bracelets. When she took them back to the Icove residence in the early hours of the morning, they showed considerable fatigue, but that same unruffled calm.
"Peabody, wait for the droids, will you? Get that set up." She left her partner in the foyer, moved the three women into the living area.
"You're not permitted to leave the premises. If you attempt to do so, your bracelets will send out a signal, and you'll be picked up and-due to the violation-brought into Central holding. Believe me, you'll be more comfortable here."
"How long do we have to stay?"
"Until such time as you're released from this restriction by the NYPSD or another authority." She glanced back to make certain Peabody was out of earshot, and still kept her voice low. "The record's off. Tell me where Deena is. If she kills again, it's not going to help anyone. You want this stopped, and I can help stop it. You want this public, and I've got a line on that."
"Your superiors, and any government authority that gets involved, won't want this public."