Imitation in Death

“Can you describe it for me?”

“Um… it was gold, I think. Maybe with stones on it? God. I can’t remember.”

“It’s okay.” He’d had enough, she judged. And this line was a dead end. “One of the officers is going to take you home now.”

“But… isn’t there something? Shouldn’t I do something?” He stared beseechingly at Eve. “Can you tell me what I’m supposed to do?”

“Just go home to your family,Jeff. That’s the best thing you can do for now. I’m going to take care of your mother.”

She walked out with him, turning him over to a uniform for escort home.

“Tell me something,” she demanded of McNab.

“Definitely a remote zap. He has to have a superior skill with electronics and security, or enough money to buy a jammer, and we’re talking mucho black-market buckaroos for a unit like this.”

“Why?” she wanted to know. “A building like this, security’s good, but it’s not top level.”

“Okay, it’s not that it jammed security, it’s how it jammed.” He pulled a pack of gum from one of his many pockets, offered Eve some, then folded a cube into his mouth when she shook her head.

“It shut everything down-security-wise-without messing with other ops. Lights, climate control, home and personal electronics weren’t touched. Except-” Busily chewing, he pointed to the living room lamps. “In here. This apartment unit, and this specific room. Lights on,” he ordered, andEve nodded when the lamps stayed dark.

“Yeah, that fits. ‘Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’ve had reports of electronic malfunction in the building.’ He’s dressed like a workman. I’d make book he’s got a toolbox. A big helpful smile. Maybe he even tells her to try the lights, and when they don’t work, she opens the door.”

McNab blew an impressive purple bubble, snapped it. “Plays for me.”

“Check out the ‘links, let’s be thorough. You find anything, I’m at Central.Peabody!”

“With you, sir.”

“Not while you’re wearing that stupid hat. Lose it,”Eve ordered and strode out.

“I like the hat.” McNab kept his voice low. “Sexy.”

“McNab, you think brick’s sexy,”Peabody replied. But with a quick check to see if the coast was clear, she gave his ass a fast squeeze. “Maybe I’ll wear it later. You know, just the hat.”

“She-Body, you’re killing me.”

He took a quick peek, sawEve was gone, then draggedPeabody close for a sloppy kiss.

“Blueberry.” Amused, she blew a purple bubble with the gum he’d passed to her. Then hurrying afterEve, she pulled the hat off her head.

She foundEve outside standing beside the totally iced vehicle with the totally iced Roarke.

“No point in it,”Eve was saying. “We’ll hitch in a black-and-white. If I’m going to be really late, I’ll let you know.”

“Let me know regardless, and I’ll have transpo arranged to bring you home.”

“I can arrange my own transpo.”

“This isn’t transpo.”Peabody gave a feline purr as she stroked the car. “This is a total ride.”

“We could easily squeeze in.”

“No.”Eve cut Roarke off. “We’re not squeezing anywhere.”

“Suit yourself.Peabody, you look delicious.” He took the hat from her hand, arranged it back on her head. “Absolutely edible.”

“Oh. Well. Golly.” Under the hat, her head went wonderfully light.

“Wipe that ridiculous look off your face, lose the hat, and get us a ride to Central,”Eve snapped.

“Huh?” She let out a long sigh. “Oh, yes, sir. Doing all that.”

“Do you have to do that?”Eve demanded of Roarke whenPeabody walked dreamily away.

“Yes. When she makes detective, I’m going to miss seeing our girl in uniform, but it should be interesting to see how she suits up otherwise. I’ll see you at home, Lieutenant.” And not caring if it a

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Jamming her hands in her pockets, she stalked away.

– -«»--«»--«»--

It was dark when she got home. Whether it was bullheadedness or not, she hadn’t tagged Roarke for transpo even after realizing she didn’t have cab fare on her. But she had dug up subway tokens, and found the underground ride jammed with people going home after a Sunday out on the town.

She opted to stand, swaying with the rhythm of the train as it headed uptown.

She didn’t ride the subway enough anymore,Eve thought. Not that she missed it. Half the ads were in languages not her own, half the passengers were zoned or irritated. And there would always be one or two who smelled as if they had a religious objection to soap and water.

Such as the wizened, toothless beggar with his license around his grubby neck who gave her a gummy grin. Still, it only took one steely stare to have him looking elsewhere.

She supposed she’d missed that, just a little.

She shifted, whiling away the trip by studying the other passengers. Students, buried in their disc books. Kids heading out to the vids. An old man snoring loud enough to make her wonder if he’d slept through his stop already. Some tired-looking women with children, a couple of tough guys looking bored.

And the ski

“Oh, forChrist ’s sake.” She started over, but one of the tough guys spotted the geek, and obviously taking exception to the activity smashed a fist into the whacker’s face.

Blood spurted. Several people screamed. Though his nose was now a fountain, the geek kept himself in hand.

“Break it up.”Eve surged, reached down to grab tough guy number one when a fellow passenger panicked, sprang to his feet, and knockedEve into the fist of tough guy number two.

“Goddamn it to hell!” She saw a couple of shooting stars, shook her head clear. “I’m the frigging police.” With her cheek throbbing, she smashed her elbow into tough guy number one to stop him from pounding on the giggling pervert still whacking off on the floor of the car, then stomped her foot on the instep of tough guy two.

When she hauled up the geek, snarled, everyone else stepped back. Something about the glint in her eye did what the tough guy’s fist hadn’t. The geek went limp.

She glanced down as he deflated, and let out a sigh. “Put that thing away,” she ordered.

– -«»--«»--«»--

Screw the subway, she grumbled as she strode up the long drive toward home. The ride had given her a sore jaw and a headache, and cost her the time it had taken to get off the damn car and turn the idiot over to the transit authority.

She didn’t much care that there was a nice breeze stirring up, an almost balmy one. Or that it carried hints of something sweet and floral into the air. She didn’t care that the sky was so clear she could see a three-quarter moon hanging in it like a lamp.

Okay, it looked nice, but hell.

She stomped inside, and after a terse inquiry, was told by the house system that Roarke was in the family media room.

Which was opposed to the main media room, she thought. Where the hell was it again? Because she wasn’t entirely sure and the hike from the subway stop to the front door had been considerable, she went into the elevator.

“Family media room,” she ordered, and was whisked up, and east.

The main media room was for parties and events, she remembered. It could fit more than a hundred people in plush chairs, and offered a wall screen as wide as a theater’s.

But the family media room was-she supposed he’d say-more intimate. Deep colors, she recalled, cushy seats. Two screens-one for vids, one for games. And the complex and complicated sound system that could play anything from the old-fashioned clunky vinyl records Roarke liked to fiddle with on occasion to the minute sound sticks.

She stepped into the room to a blast of sound that seemed to come from everywhere. Her eyes widened in reaction to the fast-moving space battle being waged over the wall screen.