Imitation in Death

She breathed deep, found it had helped to talk it through. “I’m going to make the rounds. You’ve got two hours to stretch your legs around here, then we tuck in. And we wait.”

Atmidnight, she hauled a stool into the closet. She kept the door open to an angle that gave her a view of the bed, andPeabody ’s upper half.

The apartment was full dark, and silent.

“Peabody, check your communicator every fifteen, until I order radio silence. I don’t want you nodding off in there.”

“Lieutenant, I couldn’t fall asleep if you gave me a high-powered soother. I’m revved.”

“Do the checks. Stay icy.”

What if I’m wrong? she asked herself. If he changed targets, changed methods, got a whiff of me? If he doesn’t come tonight, will he kill randomly or just rabbit? Does he have a back door? An emergency route, emergency funds, and ID?

He’ll come, she assured herself. And if he doesn’t, I’ll track him.

She ran through her own checks, got the all-quiet from the street teams, the house teams. After an hour, she stood up to stretch and keep herself limber.

After two, she felt her blood begin to pump. He was coming. She knew he was coming seconds before her communicator hissed in her ear.

“Possible sighting. Lone male, proceeding south toward building. Six-two, a hundred and ninety. Light-colored suit and dark tie. He’s carrying a briefcase.”

“Observe only. Don’t approach. Feeney, you copy?”

“Loud and clear.”

“McNab?”

“We’re on it.”

“Looks like a false alarm. He’s moving past the building, continuing south. Wait… He’s watching, that’s what he’s doing. Scoping things out, checking the street. He’s turning back, approaching the building again. Something in his hand. Might be a security jammer. Turning in. He’s heading in, Lieutenant.”

“Stay in the vehicle. Wait for my command.Peabody?”

“I’m ready.”

Evesaw the slight movement in the bed, and knewPeabody had her stu

“You’ve got it. How’s my sex queen?”

“I beg your pardon, Detective?”

“Um… Question directed atOfficerPeabody, Lieutenant.”

“No personal communications or stupid-ass remarks, for sweetChrist ’s sake. Give me a twenty on the suspect.”

“He’s using the stairs, sir. Moving between second and third floor. I’ve got a good clear view of his face,Dallas. Positive ID forNiles Renquist. Moving to your door now. Taking out a keycode. He’s through, and in.”

“Move now,”Eve said in a whisper. “All units close in now, and hold.”

She couldn’t hear him. Not yet. So she brought him into her head. Marsonini always removed his shoes before entering the bedroom. Shoes and socks. He would leave them neatly beside the entrance door, then take off the shades, put on the night-vision goggles. With them, he could move through the dark like a cat. Then he could stand over the victim, watching her sleep before he pounced.

Evedrew her weapon. Waited.

She heard the faintest creak of the floorboard, and willed him to come on, come on, you son of a bitch.

Then with her eyes long adjusted to the dark, she saw the shape of him, saw him stroke a hand gently over Peabody’s back.

She kicked the door open. “Lights!” She shouted.

He whirled, with the goggles blinding him now. The bat was in his hand, and he swung out with it, toward the sound of her voice even as he ripped the goggles away.

“Police. Drop the weapon! Drop your weapon and freeze or I will drop you.”

His eyes were huge, blinking madly. But she saw the instant he recognized her and understood. She saw all his plans, his victories, drain out of his head. “Filthy cunt.”

“Come on then.” She lowered her weapon, then stabbed a warning finger toward the doorway when Roarke shoved in with Feeney behind him. “Don’t do it,” she snapped at them.

Renquist howled, threw the bat at her, then leaped.

She shifted, let the metal glance off her shoulder. Because it was more satisfying than a stun, she used her body, tucking to drive that same shoulder into his gut, her knee to his groin. And when he started to fold, her fist found its way to the underside of his jaw.

“That last one was for Marlene Cox,” Eve muttered.

She planted her foot on the small of his back as she pulled out her restraints. “Hands behind you, you bucket of puke.”

“I’ll kill you. I’ll kill all of you.” Blood trickled out of his mouth as he struggled. His eyes went wide and wild when Eve yanked the wig away.

“Keep your hands off me, you revolting bitch. Do you know who I am?”

“Yeah, I know just who you are.” She flipped him over because she wanted him to see her. She wanted him to look at her face. The hate was there, the sort she’d seen before. The kind of bone-deep loathing she’d seen in the eyes of her own mother.

But seeing it now brought her only satisfaction.

“Do you know who I am, Niles? I’m the woman, the revolting bitch, the filthy cunt who’s kicked your sorry ass. I’m the one who’s going to lock the cage on you.”

“You’ll never put me away.” Tears began to shimmer in his eyes. “You won’t lock me in the dark again.”

“You’re already gone. And when Breen writes about this one, he’ll make careful note that it was a woman who beat you.”

He began to wail and to weep. She would’ve said like a woman, but it would’ve been an insult to her entire sex.

“Read him his rights,” she told Peabody, who’d emerged from the bed in full uniform. “Have him transported to Central and booked. You know the drill.”

“Yes, sir. Do you wish to accompany the prisoner?”

“I’ll settle things here and follow you in. I think you should be able to handle him, Detective.”

“I think a ten-year-old boy could handle him in this shape, sir.” She shook her head as Renquist continued to sob and drum his feet like a child in the throes of a tantrum. Then her head snapped up. “What? What did you say?”

“Do I have to repeat a standard order for prisoner procedure?”

“No. No, sir. Did you… did you say ‘detective’?”

“Something wrong with your ears? Oh, by the way, congratulations. Suspect is contained and in custody,” she said into her communicator as she walked from the room. She paused only long enough to wink at Roarke. “All units, stand down. Nice job.”

“Go ahead,” Feeney said to Peabody as she stood shell-shocked with McNab’s kissing noises and applause ringing in her earpiece. “I’ve got this bag of shit.”

With a little whoop, Peabody leaped over Renquist. “Dallas! Are you sure? Really, really sure? The results aren’t posted until tomorrow.”

“Why aren’t you following my direct order re the prisoner?”

“Please.”

“Jesus, what a baby.” But it took every ounce of will to hold back the grin. “I’ve got some pull. I used it. Results will be posted at oh eight hundred. You placed twenty-sixth, which isn’t shabby. They’re taking a full hundred, so you’re in. You could’ve done better on the sims.”

“I knew it.”

“But you did good. All in all you did good. The standard ceremony will be at noon, day after tomorrow. You will not cry during the cleanup of an operation,” she said when Peabody’s eyes teared up.

“I won’t. Okay.” Peabody threw open her arms, lurched forward.

Eve backpedaled. “No kissing! Mother of God. You get a handshake. A handshake.” She stuck out her hand in defense. “That’s it.”

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir.” She took Eve’s hand, pumped it. “Oh screw it,” she said, and wrapped her arms tightly enough around Eve to crack ribs.

“Get off me, you maniac.” But now it was touch-and-go whether she could hold back the laugh. “Go jump McNab. I’ll transport the damn prisoner.”