She spun away, gesturing for Peabody to follow.
‘You ever get that pissed off at me,’ Peabody said in her mild voice, ‘I’d prefer a bare-knuckled punch in the face to a tongue lashing.’
‘So noted. Casto, glad you decided to join us.’
His shirt was rumpled, as if he’d tossed on the first thing that had come to hand. Eve knew the routine. Her own shirt looked as if it had been balled in someone’s pocket for a week. ‘What the hell happened here?’
‘That’s what we’re going to find out. We’re setting up in Dr. Ambrose’s office. We’ll question the relevant staff one at a time. For the patients we’re likely going to be required to do a room to room. Everything on record, Peabody, starting now.’
In silence, Peabody took out her recorder, clipped it to her lapel. ‘On record, sir.’
Eve nodded to Ambrose, then followed her through reinforced glass doors, down a short hallway, and into a small, cluttered office.
‘Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. Questioning of possible witnesses in the death of Fitzgerald, Jerry.’ She checked her watch for time and date and recorded them. ‘Also present are Casto, Lieutenant Jake T., Illegals Division, and Peabody, Officer Delia, temporary attache to Dallas. Questioning to take place in the office of Dr. Ambrose, Midtown Rehabilitation Center for Substance Addictions. Dr. Ambrose, please send in the ward nurse. And stand by, Doctor.’
‘How the hell did she die?’ Casto demanded. ‘Her system just give out? What?’
‘In a manner of speaking. I’ll fill you in as we go.’
He started to speak, then controlled himself. ‘Can we get some coffee in here, Eve? I haven’t had my fix.’
‘Try that.’ She jerked her thumb at a battered AutoChef, then took her place behind the desk.
It didn’t get much better. By midday, Eve had personally questioned every staff member on duty in the wing, with nearly the same results each time. The VT in room 6027 had gotten out of his restraints, attacked his ward nurse, and all hell had broken loose. From what she could gather, people had poured down the hallway like a river, leaving Jerry’s room unattended for anywhere from twelve to eighteen minutes.
More than enough time, Eve supposed, for a desperate woman to flee. But how did she know where to find the drug she craved, and how did she gain access to it?
‘Maybe some of the staff were talking about it in her room.’ Casto shoveled in veggie pasta on their midday break in the center’s eatery. ‘A new blend always creates a big buzz. It’s not much of a stretch to figure that the ward nurse or a couple of orderlies were gossiping about it. Fitzgerald obviously wasn’t as sedated as anyone thought. She hears them, and when she sees her chance, goes for it.’
Eve chewed over the theory and a forkful of grilled chicken hash. ‘I can buy that. She had to hear it somewhere. And she was desperate, and smart. I can buy that she’d figure a way to get down to it undetected. But how the hell did she get past the locks? Where’d she get the code?’
He fumbled there and scowled down at his meal. A man wanted meat, damn it. Good red meat. And these pussy health centers treated it like poison.
‘Could she have gotten a master code somewhere?’ Peabody speculated. She was sticking to green leaf salad, undressed, with the idea of shaving off a couple of pounds. ‘Or a code breaker.’
‘Then where is it?’ Eve shot back. ‘She was stone dead when they found her. The sweepers didn’t find any master code in the room.’
‘Maybe the frigging door was open when she got there.’ Disgusted, Casto shoved his plate aside. ‘That’s the kind of luck we’ve been having.’
‘That’s a little too serendipitous for me. Okay, she hears a discussion about Immortality, how it’s being kept in the drug hold for research. She’s in acute withdrawal, with whatever they’ve plugged into her smoothing out the worst of the raw edges. But she needs it. Then, like a gift from God, there’s a commotion outside. I don’t like gifts from God,’ Eve muttered. ‘But we’ll run with it for now. She gets up, the guard’s gone, and she’s out of there. She gets down to the drug hold, though I can’t see a couple of orderlies discussing directions to it. Still, she got there, we’ve established that. But getting in . . .’
‘What are you thinking, Eve?’
She lifted her gaze to Casto’s. ‘That sh
e had help. That somebody wanted her to get to it.’
‘You think one of the staff led her down there so she could help herself?’
‘It’s a possibility.’ Eve shrugged off the doubt in Casto’s voice. ‘A bribe, a promise, a fan. And when we go through everyone’s records, we might hit on something that indicates a weak link. In the meantime—’ She broke off as her communicator sounded. ‘Dallas.’
‘Lobar, sweeper. We found something interesting in the disposal hold down here, Lieutenant. It’s a master code, and its got Fitzgerald’s prints all over it.’
‘Bag it, Lobar. I’ll be down shortly.’
‘That explains a lot,’ Casto began. The transmission perked up his appetite enough for him to dig into the pasta again. ‘Somebody helped her, like you said. Or she copped it from one of the nurses’ stations during the confusion.’
‘Clever girl,’ Eve murmured. ‘Very clever girl. Times it all like clockwork, goes down, unkeys what she wants, then takes the additional time to ditch the master. She sure was thinking clearly, wasn’t she?’