“And it gets better and better,” she said as people at the nearby tables began to react with alarm and movement.
“Police,” Eve said clear and firm, as she yanked the woman’s arms behind her back. “You’re going to want to stay in your seats.”
The woman had some skill, or so Eve thought when she managed to shift her weight, get one arm free, and use it for a back fist Eve couldn’t quite avoid.
It glanced off her cheekbone and sent out some angry sparks of pain.
“You’re just asking for it.”
She kicked the woman’s feet out from under her, planted a knee in the small of her back, and restrained her arms behind her.
She glanced up as a beefy male security type trotted up.
“Police,” she repeated, and since it was the easiest way, and a little more dignified, she rose, exchanged knee for boot, flashed her badge.
The man’s demeanor changed instantly. Another memo received, she imagined. “Lieutenant Dallas. What can I do to help?”
“Hotel security?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’d say this event is over. If you could see that Mr. Frester is brought to me in whatever room or area is most convenient, and systematically clear this room, I’ll arrange for the prisoner to be transported to Central.”
“She attacked me!” Big Rack bucked under Eve’s boot. “I was doing my job, and she attacked me.”
Eve simply pointed to her aching cheek, then drew out the grip of the stunner she’d managed to dump in her coat pocket during the scuffle. “Hers, which she tried to draw on me. You’d have s
ecurity feed in here. My arrest will hold up.”
“I’ll take care of it right away.”
With a nod, Eve pulled out her communicator and called for the closest unit to report to her location for prisoner transport.
All in all, she decided, it made up nicely for the doorman’s red carpet treatment.
• • •
They set her up in a meeting room that held a round table with a half dozen chairs, a two-seater sofa, a jumbo wall screen, and a nice view of the great park in its current frigid glory.
They’d brought in coffee service, so what the hell, she poured some, drank it while she went over her notes.
Frester glided in—flanked by two suits, one male, one female. All three were polished to high gloss—with him the shiniest.
He radiated smiles and good fellowship, which just put her off.
“The famous Lieutenant Dallas!” He shot out a hand accented by a gold pinky ring with a fat ruby.
She didn’t get pinky rings or people who wore them.
He pumped her hand three times, firm grip, soft palm.
“I wasn’t in town for the vid premiere, but I enjoyed the book, and watched the vid at a private screening last month. Marvelous! Clones.” He lifted his hands toward the ceiling, palms up. “I’d have sworn it was science fiction, but you actually lived through the entire thing.”
“Just another day on the job. Have a seat, Mr. Frester,” she said when he let out a barking laugh. Eve gave his two companions a once-over. “Do you feel the need for bodyguards during this interview?”
“Standard procedure, I’m afraid.” He did the hand lift again, pulled out a chair. “Those of us in the public eye, as you know, can draw the wrong kind of . . . enthusiasm, we’ll say. Greta is also an attorney, so . . .”
Eve only lifted her eyebrows as he trailed off. “That’s fine, simple. Since you have a legal rep in the room, I’ll just read you your rights, then we’re all covered.”