“We can insist on adjoining cells.”
“Gee, that’s real funny.” She walked to the desk, leaned over his shoulder, and scanned the data. “This just confirms the heart attack. If the Feebie’s info was right, there’s got to be something under it.”
“Accessing private hospital records.” He clucked his tongue. And since it was there, he turned his head a fraction to nip her jaw. “I’m quite sure there’s a law against it.”
“If it’s good enough for the feds, it’s good enough for me. Dig them out.”
“I love when you say that.” He simply executed one keystroke, and had the files he’d already accessed popping on-screen.
“You did that before I told you to.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I merely followed the orders of the primary investigator, in my capacity as expert consultant, civilian. But if you feel you must discipline me—”
She leaned over just a little more, and bit his ear.
“Oh, thank you, Lieutenant.”
She stifled the laugh, but stayed where she was. “Broken nose, fractured jaw, separated eye socket, four broken ribs, two broken fingers. Subdural this and hemorrhaging that. A lot of damage for a bad heart.”
“Sodomized as well.”
“But alive through it. Cause of death’s the strangulation. The feds fed me straight on this. While we’re in here, let’s see if they brought the girl
in for exam and treatment. Look on this date, same time frame, for a female, under eighteen. Probably examined for sexual molestation, for shock. Maybe minor bruises and lacerations, possible illegals consumption.”
He set the scan, then picked up her coffee. “What does finding her matter? You know who killed Werner.”
“It ties an end. And there’s a possibility she helped set him up for the hit.”
“There she is,” Roarke murmured when the data popped. “Mollie Newman, female, age sixteen. You hit it down the line, even to the traces of Exotica and Zoner in her system.”
“She’s the only one we know of who’s seen Yost on the job, and lived.”
Zoner, she thought. That wouldn’t have come from Werner. Why screw around with a kid who’s zoned? That would have been Yost’s addition to the mix.
“I want to find Mollie. She should have parents or guardians listed here. . . Freda Newman, mother. We’ll run her, see what we get.”
“Lieutenant? Your federal friends already have this data, and in all likelihood know where she is. They tossed you this to bog you down.”
“I know it. But I still want to run it down. And I want to find where he bought the wire in East Washington. Habitually, he buys it near the hit. Let’s see where—” She broke off, turned to the signaling ’link. “Yeah, Dallas.”
“Lieutenant, I think we’ve got something from the porn sites.”
“Peabody, what the hell are you wearing?”
Her aide flushed, looked down at herself and the wildly flowered ankle-skimmer she’d installed in McNab’s closet for convenience. “Um, it’s a robe type thing.”
“And quite fetching,” Roarke put in.
Peabody’s flush turned into a glow as she fiddled with the bright pink lapels. “Oh, well, thanks. It’s just for comfort, really. I—”
“Save it,” Eve ordered. “What have you got?”
“I’ve run through the sites, pulling screen names and hits until my eyes fell out. You wouldn’t believe some of the handles these jerks use. Anyhow, going by profile, I figured this guy would use something classier. I started picking up hits on Sterling. Just Sterling. You know, like—”
“Silver. I get it. Did you trace source location?”
“Well, we—”