Devoted in Death (In Death 41)

“Maeve, we regret to inform you Dorian was killed last night. We’re very sorry for your loss.”

“But, he’s young and healthy.” Grief, and anyone would have sworn sincere, clouded the voice, the eyes. “Killed? An accident?”

“He was murdered. Let’s move out here,” Eve demanded. “There’s no point standing in a closet.”

“No one would do him harm. I think there’s a mistake of some sort, begging your pardon.”

“There’s no mistake,” Eve began. “His identification’s been verified and confirmed.”

The droid moved to the counter, sat on one of the stools. “Why are humans so fragile?”

“It’s a mystery. When did you last interact with Dorian?”

“One moment, please.” The eyes went blank for a moment, then filled with apparent distress. “Ah God, ah God. My records show it’s been sixty-two hours and eighteen minutes since my Dorian deactivated me. Has he been dead so long?”

“No. No one has activated you until now?”

“No.”

Eve wondered why the officer on the missing persons hadn’t activated and questioned the house droid – then remembered the report had only just been filed.

“Was Dorian alone when he deactivated you?”

“He was, aye. He was going out to the rehearsal hall, he said, before the evening’s performance. It’s Giselle they’re doing right now. He said not to wait up for him – he liked to joke with me – and that he’d wake me himself in the morning as it might be late on both counts. He thought to have a late supper with friends. He often did so.”

“You could give us a full list of his friends, of people who’ve been on his guest list here for parties.”

“I could certainly. I could generate that for you, print it as well if that would help you. Or I can interface with any computer and create a disc.”

“Intimate friends, too,” Eve said.

“My Dorian had a large and lively group of friends, of all manner. He enjoyed having parties and musicales here, or quiet evenings with just a few, or the one of the moment.”

Like a doorman, Eve thought, a house droid could be informative. “Anyone get pissed when they were no longer the one of the moment?”

“I never heard of it, and sure I would have. He talked to me, my Dorian, and would have said if he’d been troubled by a difficult ending. For those intimate friendships, as you say, he tended toward those who wanted as he did, of the moment. He wasn’t ready to settle down. His music came first, always. When he worked, Lieutenant, he worked.”

The droid actually let out a little sigh.

“Many’s the hour I’ve passed doing my duties here and listening to him play. He was writing an opera himself, and worked on that as well when time allowed and the mood was on him.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll miss him.” When Eve raised her eyebrows again, the droid shook her head. “It’s not as you would understand, not a human emotion. But his mother had me made to resemble, in all possible ways, the Maeve who was nanny to him as a boy, and who loved him dearly. As he loved her.”

Weird, Eve thought, but there were plenty of the flesh-and-blood variety who couldn’t muster the sincerity of Maeve the house droid.

“Then I’m sorry.”

“His mother. I can be of comfort and help to her, should she wish it. Sure they were devoted to each other.”

“We’ll ask her. If you could provide that list, both hard copy and disc, it would be very helpful. My partner and I need to go through the apartment.”

“I’m glad to be of any help. Can you tell me, Lieutenant Dallas, why humans kill humans? It doesn’t process.”

“It never will,” Eve said.

Eve gave Peabody the computers and ’links, took the master bedroom on the second floor.