Festive in Death (In Death 39) - Page 126
“Did you argue with Catiana Dubois?”
“No! I barely know the woman. She’s one of my sister-in-law’s staff. I want to see my wife. I want to know what’s happening with Tash.”
“She’s in serious condition. She has some swelling of the brain, and is in surgery.”
He went sheet white as Eve spoke. “The doctors are confident she’ll recover.”
“Lieutenant, your partner’s on her way back.”
“Thank you, Officer. Ask the detective with her to secure the house droid and question same.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Question the droid?” Copley shouted. “Question me, question a fucking machine! My wife’s having emergency brain surgery. You can’t keep me here.”
“She can.” Roarke moved to block his exit. “Yes, she can.”
“Just stay out of my way,” Copley warned, but backed up as he did so. “I have rights! You can’t keep me in this room. I’m not under arrest. I’m free to come and go as I damn well please.”
“We can fix that,” Eve decided, glanced over at an out-of-breath Peabody. “Peabody, read Mr. Copley his rights.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve all lost your minds. I’m leaving.”
He tried a charge across the room. Eve pivoted, but Roarke was faster, and merely shot out his foot. It sent Copley on a face-first dive.
“Oops,” Roarke said.
“Peabody, restrain the suspect, and read him his rights. John Jake Copley, you’re under arrest for suspicion of murder, for attempted murder, for assault, for assault on an officer.”
“You have the right to remain silent,” Peabody began, then her voice was drowned out by Copley’s raging.
“Give him to the female officer—Shelby. Have her and the other two officers transport him to Central. To a box. I’ll be down to deal with him when we’re done here.”
“Let me give you a hand with that, Peabody.” Roarke hauled Copley to his feet, and with Peabody taking the other side perp-walked him out, raging still.
“Whew.” McNab stepped in. “And I thought the SkyMall was crazytown. The house droid’s been shut down since sixteen-thirty, LT.”
“Shut down?”
“Yeah. Turned off. There’s a secondary droid, but that one’s been turned off since about noon. The main house droid reports Ms. Quigley ordered her to shut down, as she routinely does on Sundays when they aren’t expecting company or entertaining. She reports no one coming or going after you and Roarke earlier today. No help from that quarter.”
“Check the security cam, and let’s make a copy of that.”
“On it.”
She pulled out her comm, contacted Dispatch.
“Dispatch,
play back nine-one-one call from this location made by Quigley, Natasha, at eighteen-fifty-six.”
“Acknowledged, one moment. No video recorded. Audio only. Playback commenced.”
Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?
She’s dead! I think she’s dead! Oh my God, Cate. It’s . . . Wait, please. Oh God. This is Natasha Quigley at 18 Vandam. I need to report a— JJ! Oh, JJ, something terrible happened. JJ! What are you doing? JJ, stop, stop! Don’t!
Eve heard a scream, a thud, pictured the ’link dropping to the ground. Then the recording stopped.
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