Calculated in Death (In Death 36)

“And if I asked you about any given employee, especially one who’d have the security level to access or gather information about funds or properties or investments—whatever—if you didn’t have the information on that employee in your head, you’d be able to have it in about ten seconds.”

“Anyone in particular?”

“No. See, you’ve had a couple people who work for you screw around, but when you consider the kazillion people who work for you in one way or another, but especially on the higher rungs, your system’s gold. And part of that gold is your immersion in it, because it’s your money, your people, your companies, your rep.”

“All right.”

“You’ve been audited, right?”

“Internally and externally.”

“And if there was anything hinky, you’d know it before the auditors. You’d fix it.”

One way or another, but there was no point thinking about that.

“That makes me wonder if the brass of the companies the vic was auditing know what’s what, and if they don’t, why? More, one of those companies—at least one—has something going on they’d kill for. How high does that go?”

“It’s usually best to start at the top and work down.”

“I’m thinking the same. Another round with the partners,” she continued as she ate. “Another with the vic’s firm. Tightening the circle if I can until you dig out whatever needs to be dug out. I’m going to give a copy to one of the department’s forensic accountants, too.”

“Are you telling me that to stir my competitive juices?”

“No, I need to do it. And okay, that’s a factor, but I need to do it. And run some of this by Mira, once I talk to a few more people.”

“Your day’s starting to look like mine.”

“Don’t say that, I’ll be forced to hide under the bed until tomorrow.”

“Darling Eve, the motives and the methods may vary, but our days aren’t so very different. Now, since you’re going to interview some of the top businessmen in the city, what are you wearing?”

“Some sort of clothing.”

“That’s a start.”

He rose, walked into her closet. “Subtle power, I think. Authority, but not threatening.”

“I like being threatening.”

“As well I know, but you’ll want to draw out rather than beat out information. And what you wear will send a message—I can swim in the same pool as you, and mine’s even bigger.”

She scowled over a last slice of bacon. “It’s your damn pool.”

“Shut up before you annoy me and I pick out something that makes you look weak and foolish.”

Amused, as he’d intended, she polished off her breakfast. “Do I have something like that?”

“It’s all in the combination, the presentation, the geography, and the time of day.”

“All that,” she muttered, and figured this time he was being absolutely serious.

“By the way, your dress for the premiere’s here. Have you bothered to look at it?”

“I saw it.” And automatically rolled her shoulders when they tensed. “You know something might come up.”

“Stop.” He came out with a pair of dark gray trousers with silver rivets, a simple mock turtleneck in pale apricot, and a jacket caught somewhere between red and orange.

“The color makes a statement. You’re not afraid to be noticed, and the cut says profession. Combined it’s ‘Don’t fuck with me, as I’m in charge.’ It’s rich fabric, but doesn’t flaunt it.”