J. Robb - Fantasy in Death

He hadn’t asked for ID, but Eve took out her badge. “I’m Lieutenant Dallas. I’m primary investigator in the matter of Bart Minnock’s murder.”

“Yes. Jackie explained when he called up. And I recognize you. Both of you. We heard of Bart’s death this afternoon, and my wife and I took leave immediately. We didn’t want our sons to hear of it before we could speak with them, prepare them. Ah, here is our tea. Min, this is Lieutenant Dallas and Roarke.”

The woman who rolled in the tray was tiny and hadn’t seen seventy for a number of years. She bowed slightly, then spoke in a quiet voice in a language Eve didn’t understand. Then she laid a hand on Sing’s shoulder in a gesture that spoke clearly of a long and deep connection.

“I’ll pour, Min.” He reached up, gave the hand on his shoulder a light squeeze. “Go, put your feet up awhile.” He added something in their native language.

The woman kissed the top of his head, then left them.

“Min was my nanny when I was a boy. Now she helps take care of our boys.” He poured pale gold tea into handleless cups. “My wife is upstairs with the children. We can speak freely.”

“It would be helpful to speak to your wife, and your sons.”

“Yes, they’ll come down shortly. I thought, if you needed to give any details… I hope you can spare the children some of it. They’re very young, and they were very fond of Bart.”

She wished briefly for Peabody. Peabody was better than she was with kids. Well, anybody was, she decided, and considered Roarke.

“We’ll be as sensitive as possible with your children, Dr. Sing.”

“They understand death, as well as a child can. Their parents are doctors, after all. But it’s difficult for them, for any of us to understand how their friend could be upstairs one day, and gone the next. Can you tell me if there are plans for any sort of service? I think attending would be helpful for them.”

“I don’t have that information at this time, but I’ll see that you get the details when I do.”

“Thank you. I understand you’re very busy. I’ll get my family.”

When he left the room, Eve shifted to Roarke. “I think you should talk to the kids.”

“Funny. I don’t.”

“They’re boys. They’d probably relate better to you.”

Face placid, body at ease, he sampled the tea. “Coward.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m not right. Besides, I’m primary. I get to call the shots.”

He smiled at her. “I’m just a civilian.”

“Since when?” she retorted.

“Try the tea. It’s very nice.”

“I’ll show you what you can do with the tea.” But she postponed the demonstration as she watched the Sing family come in.

The woman had the dark skin, the ice-edged cheekbones, and regal bearing of an African princess. She must have topped out at six feet, and she carried it on a lush and admirable body. She and her husband flanked the boys, a hand on each shoulder indicating a united front.

Eve didn’t know much about kids, but she was pretty sure she was looking at two of the most beautiful examples of the species. They had their father’s black, almond-shaped eyes, their mother’s cheekbones, and skin of an indescribable tone that somehow blended their parents to golden, glowing perfection.

The boys held hands, a gesture that gave her heart one hard wrench. Beside her, she heard Roarke sigh, and understood.

Such youth, such beauty should never have to face the senseless violence of murder.

“My wife, Susan, and our sons, Steven and Michael.”

“Lieutenant. Sir. You’re here to help Bart.” Susan stroked a hand gently up and down Steven’s back.

“Yes. Thank you for your time.” Eve braced herself, looked at the children. “I’m very sorry you lost your friend.”

“The police find the bad people,” the younger boy, Michael, said. “And arrest them. Then they go to jail.”

Someone, she thought, had given the kids the basic pecking order. “That’s right.”

“Sometimes they don’t.” Steven’s jaw tightened. “Sometimes they don’t find them and arrest them. And sometimes when they do they don’t go to jail.”

And, the reality. “That’s right, too.”

“Lieutenant Dallas always finds the bad people,” Roarke told the boy, “because she never stops looking. She never stops looking because even though she didn’t know Bart before, he’s her friend now, too.”

“How can she be his friend if she didn’t know him?”

“Because after he died, she went to him, and looked at him, and promised him her help. That’s what friends do. They help.”

“He helped me with compu-science for school,” Michael piped up.

“And he let us play his games and let us have fizzies…” He slanted a look up at his mother.

She smiled. “It’s all right.”

“We’re not supposed to have too many fizzies,” Michael explained. “They’re not really good for you. How do you catch the bad people? Don’t they hide and run away?”

Okay, Eve decided, she could handle this. “They try to. You might be able to help me find them.”

“You need clues.”

“Sure. Sometimes I get clues by talking to people. So why don’t you tell me about the last time you saw Bart?”

“It wasn’t yesterday or the day before, but the day before that.” Michael looked at his brother for verification.

“It was raining a lot so we couldn’t go to the park after our music lesson. We got to go up to Bart’s and be a test study.”

“What did you test?”

“Bases Loaded,” Steven told her. “The new version that’s not even out yet. It’s total and almost as good as playing in the park for real.”

“Was anyone else there?”

“It was just us, until Min came to get us. And Bart talked her into playing Scrabble before we left. She won. She always wins Scrabble.”

“Maybe he talked to someone on the ’link.”

“No, ma’am, he didn’t. Oh, but Leia was there. I forgot.”

“The droid.”

“She made snacks. Healthy snacks,” Michael added with another glance at his mother. “Sort of healthy.”

“Did he show you any other new games? Something else that isn’t out yet?”

“Not that day.”

“How about Fantastical?”

Both boys angled their heads. “What is it?” Steven asked. “It sounds like a magic game. Linc likes magic games especially.”

“Linc Trevor,” Sing supplied. “He’s a friend of the boys, and lives in the building. He and his family are on vacation.”

“They’ve been gone forever ,” Michael complained.

“Less than two weeks.” Susan glanced at Eve. “They’ll be gone a month altogether.”

“When he gets back and before school starts we’re going to have a party. If it’s okay,” Steven added. “Bart said we’d all get together: Linc and Bart’s friends from work, and there’d be a brand-new game. The best game ever. We’ll all get to play, and… but we can’t. We won’t. Because Bart’s dead now. I forgot. Bart’s dead.”

“You’re helping me help him right now,” Eve told him as the boy’s eyes swam.

“How?”

“By talking to me. Did he tell you anything about the new game? The best game?”

“He said you got to be anyone or anything you wanted. Imagine your reality and go beyond. That’s what he said. I remember because it made me laugh. It sounds funny.”

Even Bart couldn’t resist leaking a little of the project.” Eve paused outside the crime scene apartment before breaking the seal. “Only a couple of kids who really didn’t process any more than ‘party’ and ‘new game.’ But if he said something to them, he may have said something to someone who’d process a lot more.”