She found McNab by the vending machine, scowling at his choices. "The droid?"
"She did a good job with him. He followed orders. I ran his program back and forward and sideways. She inputted orders—retrieve the body by the hearth, transport it to the car, drive to the river, and dispose. There's nothing else in there. She wiped previous memory."
"Accident or design?"
"Can't tell. She'd have been rushed, nervous. It's easy to wipe out old with new
programming if you're in a hurry."
"Yeah. How many other servants in that place?"
McNab took out his notes. "Four."
"And nobody hears anything, sees anything?"
"Two in the kitchen at the time in question. Personal maid upstairs, groundskeeper tucked in his shed."
"Tucked in his shed, in this weather?"
"They're all droids. The Bransons had full droid staff. Top quality."
"Figures." She rubbed her tired eyes. She'd think about that later, go through those steps and stages later. First priority was to clear Zeke of any chance of formal charges.
"Okay, I'm going to hit Zeke again. Peabody in there with him?"
"Yeah, and the lawyer. No way around running him through again?"
She dropped her hands and her eyes were cool. "We do this by the book. We fucking write the book with this one. Every step documented. This'll hit the media by morning. 'Tool and Toy Tycoon Killed by Wife's Lover. Suspect is the brother of a police officer assigned to Homicide. Investigation snagged. Body missing.'"
"Okay, okay." He held up a hand. "I can see the picture."
"The only way to avoid that is to beat them to it. We prove self-defense, quick and clean. And we find the goddamn body. Tag the sweepers," she said as she swung toward the interview room. "If they haven't finished yet, light a fire under them."
Peabody's head came up the moment Eve walked in. Her hand continued to grip Zeke's. On the other side of him was a lawyer she recognized as one of Roarke's.
The woman in her was grateful, the cop furious. One more shadow on the case, she thought grimly. "Husband of investigating officer arranged for representation." Fabulous.
"Counselor."
"Lieutenant."
Without a glance at Peabody, she sat, engaged the recorder, and got to work.
Thirty minutes later, when Eve walked out, Peabody was right on her heels. "Lieutenant. Sir. Dallas."
"I don't have time to talk to you."
Peabody managed to skirt around Eve, face her. "Yes, you do."
"Fine." Braced for a battle, Eve pushed into the women's room, marched to the sink, and ordered the water on cold. "Say it and let me get back to work."
"Thank you."
Off balance with the quiet words, Eve lifted her dripping face. "For what?"
"For taking care of Zeke."
Slowly, Eve turned off the tap, shook the excess water from her hands, and moved to the dryer. It ran with a nasty buzz and a chilly blow of air. "I've got a job to do here, Peabody. And if you're thanking me for the lawyer, you're off. That's Roarke, and I'm not happy about it."