I'm not my father, and I know when it's time to cut loose. I got you everything you needed. I'm finished here. I want my share now, tonight, and I'm gone. I did my part. You don't need me anymore.
No, you're right. It would be best if you finished out the day as normal. You'll be contacted later as to where to pick up your share. We still have to be careful. Your work is done, but ours isn't.
Just get me what I've got coming, and I'm gone by morning.
It'll be arranged.
"Idiot," Eve muttered. "Signed his own execution papers." She shook her head. "Greed or stupidity."
There was another call, Lamont booking a private compartment on the off-planet transport to Vegas II. He used a false name and identification number.
"Have a unit go by his place, Peabody. I bet our boy was all packed and ready to go."
The next was an incoming, a recorded voice giving brief instructions.
The corner of Sixth and Forty-third, one hundred hours.
Lamont made two more outgoings, received no answer from either.
"Run the numbers, Peabody," Eve instructed as she picked up the day book.
"Already running the first. It's a private code."
"Use my authorization number and get it. Whoever he was talking to didn't realize Lamont was on his own 'link. Had to figure he was on a public job, or he'd never have left this on the body. Even if he'd wanted it, the tails on Lamont were right on scene."
"The code's shielded," Peabody told her. "They won't release it."
"Oh yeah, they will." Eve whipped out her communicator. Within thirty seconds she had Chief Tibble on the line, and barely two minutes later, the governor's personal authorization.
"Man, you are good." Peabody looked on with admiration. "You snarled at the governor."
"Gives me that shit about privacy acts. Politicians." She set her teeth, flexed and unflexed her fingers as she waited for the last line of bureaucracy to tumble. "Well, son of a bitch."
"What is it? Who is it?" Peabody craned her neck to see the data on Eve's display.
"B. Donald Branson's private line."
"Branson." The blood drained out of Peabody's face. "But, Zeke. Last night…"
"Transmit that call to Feeney, get him to run a voice check. We need to know if that was Branson on the call." She was moving fast as she snapped out the order. "Contact the guard on Clarissa Branson's room," she continued as they strode down the corridor. "Tell him no one goes in or out of it until we get there."
She pulled out her own communicator as they swung outside into the cold. "McNab, get down to Mira's. I want Zeke brought back up. Tuck him away until you hear from me."
"Zeke wouldn't know anything about Cassandra, Dallas. He'd never—"
Eve spared Peabody a look as she jumped into the car. "Toys and tools, Peabody. I'd say your brother was being used as both."
*** CHAPTER EIGHTEEN ***
Clarissa was gone. There was nothing to be gained by berating and browbeating the guard on duty, but Eve did it anyway.
"She looks at him, smiles tearfully, and asks if she can go sit in the gardens." Eve rolled her eyes and tapped the note Clarissa had left behind in her palm. "Then she uses the can I have a glass of water routine she did with Zeke and our boneheaded hero runs off to fetch."
She circled the conference room, waiting for Zeke to be brought in. "Oops, where'd she go? It takes him thirty fucking minutes to call it in b
ecause he's so sure a sweet little thing like her is still around somewhere. But does he check her room? See the tearful good-bye note?"
Eve unfolded it again while Peabody wisely remained silent.