J. Robb - Purity in Death

"You've used the media when it's suited you, Lieutenant Dallas."

"Yes, sir. And when I have I've done so using my own words, not spouting off scripted pap. And my personal life is just that, and has nothing to do with this investigation."

"The expert civilian consultant on your team has a great deal to do with your personal life. Lieutenant," Tibble continued, "I sympathize with your position, and with your desire for privacy. But if we don't play this game well, Purity will not only get their media attention, but will continue to build support. Mr. Chang has the results of polls."

"Polls?" Eve couldn't keep the furious disgust out of her voice. "We took polls?"

"Two of the media services had polls generated before eleven this morning." Chang took a memo book from his pocket. "The mayor's office conducted its own, for internal purposes. When asked if they considered the group known as The Purity Seekers to be a terrorist organization, fifty-eight percent of the respondents saidno. When asked if they were concerned for their personal safety, forty-three percent respondedyes. Naturally, we would like to see both those numbers decrease."

"You amaze me," Eve murmured.

"The facts are these," Tibble said. "A strong majority of the public perceive this group exactly as they wish to be perceived. Additional polls show little to no sympathy for Cogburn and Fitzhugh, nor regret for the manner of their deaths. It's neither possible nor politically prudent to attempt to generate sympathy for those individuals. The system is what must be defended."

"And the system must have a face," Chang added. "It must be personalized."

"This is a fine line, Lieutenant," Tibble continued. "If this group is publicly damned with the wrong tone, there could be a panic. Businesses shutting down in fear of using their electronics. Individuals afraid to turn on their data centers. People flooding into health centers and emergency centers because they have a headache or a damn nosebleed."

"We need people and industry to remain calm and secure," Franco put in. "It's essential we show that we're controlling this situation."

"Purity hasn't, thus far, targeted anyone outside a specific profile," Eve began.

"Precisely." Franco nodded. "And that, Lieutenant Dallas, is the key message the mayor, all of us, want to send. The family in the downtown loft has no cause for alarm. The midtown cafe can continue business as usual. Purity's agenda does not include them."

"So far."

Franco's eyebrows lifted. "Do you have reason to believe otherwise?"

"I have reason to believe vigilantes grow to like their work. That power, unchecked, will corrupt its own agenda. That violence, given impunity and approval, breeds more."

"This is good," Chang said, pulling out his notebook again. "With adjustments-"

"Don't mess with me, Chang, or you'll be eating that book."

"Dallas." Whitney got to his feet. "We're all on the same side. Tools and methods may vary, but the end goal is the same for all of us. Forget the polls and the politics for a moment. You know enough about human nature to understand that without a solid spin, people will begin to see this group as heroes. They'll see criminals, predators who slithered through the system's fingers finally meeting justice. Tonight our children are safe because someone took a stand."

"Justice doesn't hide behind anonymity. It doesn't operate without rules of conduct."

"That, in a nutshell, is the point. Press conference at sixteen-thirty, Central's media center. Be there at sixteen hundred to be briefed and prepped."

"Yes, sir."

"We all have our jobs, Lieutenant." Franco reached down, picked up a sleek leather briefcase. "And portions of those jobs are distasteful or annoying. But at the core, it's the safety of this city that concerns all of us."

"Agreed, ma'am. Fortunately my concern isn't contingent on polls or votes."

Franco's lips curved. "I was told you were a hard-ass. Good. So am I. Chief Tibble, Commander Whitney." She gestured to Chang, then strode out on her snazzy shoes.

"Lieutenant." Tibble remained in his position of power at the desk. "You will be required to work with Deputy Mayor Franco on this situation. I expect you to cooperate with her and the mayor's office, and to afford her the respect that office deserves. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"The potential for crisis here is layered. Public safety, public trust, financial and political ramifications. Those must all be addressed. The damage to city revenue, to individual businesses, to personal incomes could be serious if the tourist trade decreases because people are afraid to come into the city and use a public data center, if employees refuse to come into work, or use their home offices. If parents refuse to send their children to school or utilize their home-school options out of fear the educational units are infected. The media can swing this sort of thing on a dime. And if you believe this is an area beyond your concern, I'd suggest you ask your husband's opinion."

"My husband's opinion doesn't affect how I carry out my duty, Chief Tibble, nor does it affect the thrust of my investigations."

"Any married individual on or off planet knows that statement is bullshit, Lieutenant. At this point, you don't have the luxury of ignoring the politics or the media. Welcome to my world." He sat back studying her carefully blank face. "Sometimes, Dallas, you make me tired."

That cracked the mask enough to have her blink at him, once. Slowly. "I apologize, sir."

"No, you don't." He waved a hand at her, then rubbed it over his face. "Now, give me the details of your investigation you didn't want to divulge in front of Franco and Chang."

She started to fill him in. He interrupted once. "A social worker and a cop? How many other ways do you intend to complicate my life?"

"I've yet to speak with Detective Dwier, sir, and have no direct evidence linking him to the organization. But, as I suspect civilian parents of abused minors may also be involved, I'd say the complication level will rise fairly high."

"It'll leak. One of your interviews will go to the media. We'll need damage control."

"Chief Tibble-" When her communicator beeped, she had just enough control of her own to realize she'd just been saved by the bell. "With your permission, sir?"

"Answer it."

"Dallas."

"Dispatch, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, possible priority homicide, 5151 Riverside Drive. Victim identified as Mary Ellen George. See uniformed officer on-scene."

"Acknowledged." Her face was blank again when she looked back at Tibble. "Things just got more complicated, or more simple, depending on your point of view."

He sighed. "Go."

Tibble pushed to his feet as she strode out. "Fifty that she uses this to ditch the press conference."

"I look like a sucker?" Whitney shook his head. "I'll see she's there. One way or another."

It had been a long time since Roarke had worked a con as basic as the coin toss. Still all it took was quick fingers and a bit of misdirection.

That boyhood skill had come back to him, smoothly, when Feeney had called heads.

A snatch, a light rub of the thumb over the engraving of the coin to determine which end you needed up, and tails slapped onto the back of his hand.

It was all done fast, and if he did say so himself, very well indeed. Feeney might have been annoyed and suspicious at the results, but a deal was a deal.

Even when the game was fixed.

"We could give it another pass or two," Feeney said when they all stood in the temporary lab with Roarke holding the filter disc. "Could be we'd-"

"Don't be such a mother," Roarke said mildly.

"My life won't be worth piss something happens to you on my watch."