“I hit the ground running.”
“You don’t know any other speed. You primary on Fitzhugh?”
“That’s right. Something I should know?”
“No. Smart money’s that he iced himself, and nobody around here’s too sorry. That oil slick loved squeezing cops on the stand. Funny though, second big suicide in a month.”
Eve’s interest spiked. “Second?”
“Yeah. Oh, that’s right, you were off honeymooning and making cow’s eyes.” He wiggled his bushy red eyebrows. “Senator in East Washington a couple weeks ago. Jumped out the window of the Capitol Building. Politicians and lawyers. They’re crazy anyway.”
“Yeah. Could you get me the data on it when you have the chance? Transfer it to my office unit.”
“What, you going to keep a scrapbook?”
“Just interested.” The feeling was back in her gut. “I’ll pick up the tab next time we’re in the Eatery.”
“No problem. As soon as I get this system unknotted, I’ll feed it to you. Don’t be a stranger,” he told her and signed off.
Peabody continued to take miserly sips of coffee. “You think there’s a connection between Fitzhugh and the senator who took the dive?”
“Lawyers and politicians,” Eve murmured. “And autotronic engineers.”
“What?”
Eve shook her head. “I don’t know. Disengage,” she ordered her unit, then swung her bag over her shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Peabody struggled not to pout about the lack of another cup of coffee. “Two suicides in two different cities in a month isn’t such a weird thing,” she began, lengthening her stride to catch up with Eve.
“Three. There was a kid on Olympus who hanged himself while we were there. Mathias, Drew. I want to see if you can find a connection, anything that ties them together. People, places, habits, education, hobbies.” She rushed down the stairs, gearing up.
“I don’t know the politician’s name. I didn’t pay attention to the reports on the East Washington suicide.” Busily, Peabody tugged out her personal palm computer and began searching for data.
“Mathias was in his early twenties, autotronics engineer. He worked for Roarke. Shit.” She had a bad feeling she was going to be forced to drag Roarke into her work once again. “If you run into a snag, ask Feeney. He can pop the data handcuffed and drunk, faster than either of us.”
Eve wrenched open the door, scowled when she didn’t see her car at the top of the drive. “Goddamn Summerset. I’ve told him to leave my car when I park it.”
“I think he did.” Peabody flipped on her sunshades, pointed. “It’s blocking the drive, see?”
“Oh, yeah.” Eve cleared her throat. The car was just as she’d left it, and fluttering in the mild breeze were a few torn articles of clothing. “Don’t ask,” she muttered and started to hoof it down the drive.
“I wasn’t going to.” Peabody’s voice was smooth as silk. “Speculation’s more interesting.”
“Shut up, Peabody.”
“Shutting up, Lieutenant.” With a smirk, Peabody climbed in the car and swallowed a laugh when Eve swung the vehicle around and cruised down the drive.
Arthur Foxx was sweating. It was subtle, just a faint sheen over his top lip, but Eve found it satisfying. She hadn’t been surprised to discovered his chosen representative was an associate of Fitzhugh’s, a young eager beaver in a pricey suit with trendy medallions decorating the slim lapels.
“My client is understandably upset.” The lawyer folded his youthful face into somber lines. “The memorial service for Mr. Fitzhugh is scheduled for one P.M. this afternoon. You’ve chosen an inappropriate time for this interview.”
“Death chooses the time, Mr. Ridgeway, and it’s usually inappropriate. Interview with Authur Foxx, re Fitzhugh, case number three oh oh nine one-ASD, conducted by Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. Date August 24, 2058, time oh nine thirty-six. Will you state your name for the record?”
“Arthur Foxx.”
“Mr. Foxx, you are aware that this interview is being recorded.”
“I am.”