“So do I.”
When they reached the car, Roarke asked, “What next?”
“I need to go back over the list of names and data of those connected with the Irene Schultz arrest. I need to talk to them, all of them, and try to figure out his next target.”
“They don’t all live in New York.”
“No.” She got into the car. “But he’s got, apparently, an endless supply of IDs, and credit to go with them. Maybe his next target’s in New York, maybe not. I need to interview all the connections to possible targets to try to work it out.”
“Not all the connections live in New York either, or in the city. You could, of course, shuttle around to and from, or conduct the interviews via ’link.”
“I’d rather a face-to-face, but it’s not practical, so most of it will have to be by ’link. The problem is people expand. They get married and/or have kids. The kids do the same. Or they have sibs who do it. In twenty-odd years, you’ve got a horde spiraling out of one person.”
“People and their propensity for progeny.” Amused at her, Roarke shook his head. “What can be done?”
“What I’d like to do is get them all into Central, take them one at a time, then if necessary, pool them altogether, to see if one person’s answers jogs something salient from another.”
“I can arrange that.”
She slanted him a bland look as he drove them home. “What? You’ll have everyone transported to Central—from wherever they happen to be? Not only impractical, but plenty of them won’t go for it. Another problem with people is they have lives, and can get fussy when asked to put them on hold to aid in a police investigation they may or may not believe really involves them.”
“There’s transporting,” he said, “and there’s transporting.”
“Well, sure, your transports are all slick and shiny, but—”
“Eve, while I often have to travel for business, or have someone brought in, how much more often do I conduct business halfway around the world, even off planet, without leaving New York?”
“Yeah, but you’ve got . . .” She had a sudden memory of walking into his office unannounced while he conducted a meeting. A holographic meeting. “It could work,” she considered. “We don’t use holo for interviews generally because if you’re dealing with a suspect, even witnesses in some cases, the defense will try to get anything gathered by that method tossed. It’s tricky because it can be manipulated. You want to make it solid, you need a confession or hard evidence face-to-face, on record. But this . . .”
“You’re not looking for a confession, not interviewing suspects, or even people of interest.”
“Yeah, it could work. I’ll want to run it by an APA, make sure there’s no procedural angle I need to cover. If any information I get leads to an arrest, we don’t want some slick lawyer trying to claim the information was tainted, therefore, blah, blah. But I think we can do this.”
“You used holo on Ricker.”
“Yeah, and he’s already doing life without possibility of parole. They can try to dance around the method for slapping him with conspiracy on Coltraine. But you order a cop’s murder, from the inside of an off-planet penal colony where holo-visitations and legal consultations are allowed? It’s going to be hard for anyone to argue the method, and I cleared it first. Cleo wasn’t part of the holo, and she was allowed to view it. I didn’t use any evidence, per se, from the holo in drawing her confession, and I, again, cleared it first. The judge already tossed her lawyer’s petition to dismiss on that one.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“I think we can use this, if the parties agree. I’d save hours of time, and have the next-best to face-to-face. I just need to make sure our ass is covered on it.”
“You cover the asses, and I’ll set it up.”
“How long to set it up?”
“The basic program, twenty minutes at most. Then I’d need the coordinates of those you want to bring in. It would take a few minutes to triangulate each holo.”
“It bears repeating. You’re handy to have around.” She took out her ’link and contacted APA Cher Reo.
There was, as expected, some legal jumbo. But even with it, she would save considerable time. She continued to consult with Reo as she walked into the house, and thought one advantage to legal crap was the opportunity to totally ignore Summerset.
Once she got the nod, she began making the contacts and arrangements. She’d hit the halfway point when Roarke beeped through. “The program’s set, in the holo-room. I need those coordinates.”
“I’ll bring them to you. Peabody can make the rest of the contacts. Five minutes.”
She routed the rest to her partner, then gathered what she needed. She used the elevator, and stepped out into a larger and somehow swankier version of her home office.
“Hmm.”