Patterns, she thought again. Conspiracies.
Just what was your secret project, Friend, and why did it kill you?
"It goes deep," Eve murmured. "It goes long, and they're all in it."
She turned back to Roarke. "Hard to find a killer when they come in bulk. How many of them have a part in this or knew and turned a blind eye? Close ranks." She shook her head. "And it doesn't end with doctors. We're going to find cops, politicians, executives, investors."
"I'm sure you're right. It won't help you, Eve, to take it personally."
"There's no other way to take it." She leaned back on the desk. "Run Louise's disc, will you?"
Louise's voice slid out. "Dallas, looks like you owe me five hundred K. I can't say I'm positive what—"
"Mute that, would you?" Roarke picked up his brandy and worked the keyboard one-handed. "It's distracting."
Eve gritted her teeth, hit mute. This taking orders crap, she decided, had to stop. The sudden thought flashed that they might reinstate her but bust her down to detective or uniform. She barely resisted lowering her head to the console and screaming.
She took a deep breath, then another. Then focused on the monitor.
I can't say I'm positive what it all means, but I have some theories, and don't like any of them. You'll see from the records that follow that regular calls have gone out from the main 'link here at the clinic to the Drake. While we might contact some department there on occasion for a consult, there are too many, too often, and all from the main 'link. Rotation doctors use this office 'link. Only nurses and clerical staff use the main regularly. There are also calls to the Nordick in Chicago. Unless we had a patient who had used that facility and whose records would be there, we would have little reason to contact an out-of-state. Possibly, in rare cases, to reach a specialist. This same principle applies to the centers in London and Paris. You'll find only a few calls there.
I've checked, and the contact numbers for each facility are the organ wings. I've also checked the logs here for who was on duty when these calls were made. There's only one staff member whose schedule fits the time frame. I'm going to have a little chat with her after I file this. I can't think of an explanation she can come up with that'll satisfy me, but I'm going to give her a chance before I call the cops.
I assume, when I do, I'm to keep your name out of it. How about a bonus? We won't call it blackmail. Ha ha.
Get these murdering bastards, Dallas.
Louise.
"Didn't I tell you just to get the data?" Eve mumbled. "What the hell were you thinking, hotshot?"
She glanced at her wrist unit, calculated that even now Feeney and Peabody would be hauling Jan's butt into interview. She thought she would cheerfully give up a decade of her life to be inside that room and in charge.
No sulking, she reminded herself and began to scan the 'link logs when the one beside her beeped.
"Dallas." She frowned as she saw Feeney's face. "You get Jan into interview already?"
"No."
"You've picked her up?"
"More or less. She's about to be bagged and tagged. We found her in her apartment, dead and still fresh. Whoever took her out did it fast and neat. Single blow to the head. Prelim time puts it less than thirty minutes before we got to her door."
"Hell." Eve closed her eyes a minute, shifted her thoughts. "That puts it under that same amount of time after Louise regained consciousness. Defensive wound indicated she'd seen her attacker and could identify."
"Somebody didn't want Jan to talk." Feeney pursed his lips, nodded. "Follows."
"That puts it back at the Drake, Feeney. Wo's out. We need to find out where the other doctors on the short list were in that hour period. You've got the security discs and logs from Jan's building."
"Peabody's confiscating right now."
"He wouldn't have done it himself. He's not stupid. You're going to find a droid, six two, two ten, Caucasian, brown and brown. But somebody had to activate and program."
"Droid." Feeney nodded. "McNab hit something interesting when he scanned for data on the self-destruct units. Senator Waylan headed the subcommittee that studied their military uses."
"I have a feeling he won't be running for another term." She rubbed her fingers over her eyes. "Check the logs for security droids at the Drake. Wake up McNab. He could run a systems check on them if you can get a warrant for it. Even if the program was wiped, he'd find the lag time. When you've…"
She trailed off, snapping back. "Sorry," she said in a careful voice. "Just thinking out loud."