Sharp-looking woman,” Peabody commented. She brought Jilly Isenberry’s data and image up on the dash screen so Eve could see. “Thirty-eight, mixed race, single. No marriage or cohab on record. Employed as flight attendant, Orbital Transportation, since 2053. Previous employment listed as—hoohaw—”
Eve, fighting traffic, only furrowed her brow. “Hoohaw?”
“I think it’s a military exclamation. Maybe. Which fits, as prior to her employment at Orbital, she was Corporal Isenberry, U.S. Army. Put in twelve years. You’d think she’d make more than corporal in a dozen.”
“And you’d think a dozen years as a soldier would point her toward something other than serving drinks and passing out vids to yeehaws heading to the gambling world.”
“Yeehaws?”
“Another military term. We get the military records, you can bet she served with Kirkendall somewhere, sometime.”
“And that kind of coincidence—”
“Isn’t. She didn’t change her data, change her name, nothing. They thought they’d be gone by the time we got this far, if we ever got this far. We’ve got our who, we’ve got our why. Now we find the son of a bitch. Dallas,” she said into her communicator when it signalled.
“A legal adjutant for military services requests a meeting,” Whitney informed her. “My office. ASAP.”
“Heading toward Central now, sir.”
Eve judged the traffic, the distance, then hit the sirens and went in hot.
Peabody was still catching her breath when they caught the glide to Whitney’s floor. “Are my eyes back down where they belong? I don’t like to go into a meeting when they’re rolled up white. Looks bad.”
For the hell of it, Eve gave her a thump on the back firm enough to have Peabody nearly wheeling off the glide. “There. They’re back.”
“I don’t think that was funny. I don’t think that was funny especially after you nearly killed us three times flying back here.”
“It was twice, and really, it was only maimed. People don’t respect sirens in this city, that’s the problem. They just keep la, la, la, when an emergency vehicle needs to get the hell where it’s going.”
“The Rapid Cab you nearly creamed wasn’t going la, la, la. It was more a scream of abject terror.”
“Yeah.” It made Eve smile to remember it. “So he should’ve gotten the hell out of my way.” She bounced her shoulders a couple of times. “You know, that little ride buzzed me up. Almost as good as coffee.”
They were passed straight into Whitney’s office, where her commander and the rest of the team were already in place. Along with a holo-projection of a woman in dress whites.
Spruced up for it, Eve thought, but couldn’t bother to be here in person.
“Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody, Major Foyer, United States Armed Forces, legal branch. Major Foyer requires further incentive to release the full military records of the individuals we have requested.”
“Those records are the property of the U.S. government,” Foyer said in clipped tones. “We have a duty to protect the men and women who serve.”
“And we have a duty to protect the citizens of this city,” Eve put in. “Information has come into my hands during the course of a multiple homicide investigation that leads me to believe Kirkendall, Roger, former sergeant, U.S. Army, is involved.”
“Disclosure of this nature requires more than the belief of an officer in the civilian sector, Lieutenant. The Revised Patriot Act, section 3 implemented 2040, specifically—”
“Gives the government carte blanche to demand and receive personal data on any citizen, while secreting data on their own. I know how it works. However, when a member of the armed forces is under suspicion for acts against the government or its citizenry, those records can be turned over to both military and civilian authorities.”
“Your suspicions, Lieutenant, are not enough. Evidence—”
“Commander, with your permission?”
He raised his brow when Eve stepped toward his computer, then nodded.
Eve ordered the file on the Swishers. “Images of victims, crime scene, on-screen.”
They flashed on, stark and bloody. “He did that.”
“You believe—”