Brotherhood in Death (In Death 42)

“Just imagining having a guy who looks like that lay lips on me. It’s a smiley thought.” She bagged a blood sample from the floor. “You take ’em where you find ’em.”

Maybe so, Eve thought. She wouldn’t find many smiley moments at the morgue.

“Peabody, with me, damn it! Keep your hands off McNab’s bony ass or you’re walking to the morgue.”

She was already pulling the front door open when Peabody rushed down the steps. “How did you know where my hands were?”

“I’m a trained detective.” She glanced back, saw the sweeper grin again. “Another smiley moment?”

“Ain’t it grand?”

12

Peabody scrambled to catch up while winding today’s scarf—icy winter blue with candy-green zigzags—around her neck.

“If the two vics were pals, and sex is motive, maybe they shared some of the women on the list.”

Eve slid behind the wheel. “Now you’re thinking.”

“I can think even with my hands on McNab’s bony ass. And it was really just a friendly pat.” She let out a happy sigh as she settled into the passenger seat. “Ah. The seat warmer’s on. Now my not-so-bony ass is happy.”

“I hereby issue a ban on any discussion of your ass or McNab’s.” Eve flicked a gaze in the side mirror, did a zip-switch of lanes. “Roarke’s going to ask security at the hotel if Wymann used the suite, and if so, who used it with him. We connect any of the sidepieces, we have a whole other conversation.”

“On the other hand, why have a sex droid in the bedroom closet—and McNab said it was programmed for the universe of sex—if you’re diddling with live ones regularly?”

“The answer to that is: penis.”

“Oh yeah, how could I forget?” Peabody didn’t mention her ass, but snuggled it happily into the warm. “But don’t you think that has to slow down some once the penis has going on seven decades under its belt? And I just got a mental picture of a penis wearing a belt. It wasn’t pretty.”

“Thanks for sharing that. Before the day’s over, after the sweepers are done, I’m going back to go through the vic’s house, and you know what I’d bet a year’s salary I’m going to find? Boner drugs and other sex . . . extenders.”

“Boner extenders, good one. I’m not going to take the bet because we found boner drugs in the first vic’s place—really his grandfather’s place, so more eeww—and it follows. Okay, here’s another question.”

Since the traffic was hell on Earth and the ad blimps insisted on blatting on about Cruise Wear Specials! (What the hell was cruise wear?), Eve resigned herself to Peabody’s endless curiosity.

“Is this the last one?”

“Probably not, but it’s another. Why do guys always sniff out the young ones? Dudes in their fifties, they’re hunting up sex partners in their twenties. In their sixties, same deal. Into the seventies, they’d go for the twenties if they could get them, and settle for the thirties, maybe forties, if they crash on younger.”

“Same answer: penis.”

“How is it the same answer?”

As Eve made a turn, she watched oblivious tourists huddled at a glide-cart with their bags and wallets all but screaming “Steal Me!” to the canny-eyed street thief who sauntered their way.

She couldn’t save everybody, and kept going.

“The penis needs to convince itself it’s still twenty, and therefore urgently desired by sex partners of the same age. The penis refuses to accept it’s attached to an old guy.”

“Then the penis is self-deluding.”

“It’s good you’ve learned that while you’re still in your twenties. I suspect many women find it a harder lesson once their own decades pass. Now, put the penis in the same box as the asses, and close the damn lid.”

Peabody held her silence for a moment. “You know what’s going to happen with a penis and two asses in the same box, right?”

Despite herself Eve laughed. “Jesus, Peabody, get your mind out of the sex box.”

“It’s not easy since we’re figuring sex as motive.”