J. Robb - Purity in Death

"Lieutenant, Roarke. I thought you'd left."

"We were about to, Commander, as soon as I round up my team."

"Leave that to Roarke. Walk back to Central with me."

"Yes, sir. Tell Peabody to meet me at Central," Eve told Roarke. She took a step, stopped. "Tell her to walk," she added. "I don't want you dropping her off in the limo."

"As you like, Lieutenant." Roarke skimmed a finger over the dent in her chin. "I'll see you at home. Jack." He nodded at Whitney, then went inside.

"From the looks at this traffic, he wouldn't get a vehicle near Central for the next thirty minutes."

"He'd find a way," Eve replied, "and it makes a damn spectacle."

"I prefer walking when I can manage it," Whitney said as they started down the sidewalk. "You spent some time speaking with Halloway's mother, alone."

"She's got a lot of spine."

"Yes, she does. I believe you also spoke with the mayor."

"Yes, sir."

"He's understandably concerned about this situation."

"I think it's fair to say we're all understandably concerned about this situation."

"Our concerns may demonstrate themselves differently. You also spoke with Chang and the deputy mayor."

"We had words."

Whitney looked over at her. "You had words with a number of people today."

"Yes, sir. I believe the statement I gave Nadine Furst in response to the release by Purity was appropriate. It was also factual. Detective Halloway and his family deserve more than to have him used as a tool by terrorists to spread their message. The job owes him more than that."

"I'm very aware of what the job owes, Lieutenant." He stopped at the crosswalk with a crowd of other pedestrians waiting for the light. "As it happens, I found nothing inappropriate about your statement, nor does the chief. The mayor's office is less satisfied, but Chang isalready working to maximize the effect in our favor. It matters," Whitney said, though she hadn't spoken. Hadn't intended to.

The crowd started the surge seconds before the light changed. Both Eve and Whitney moved through it, picking up the pace to break clear.

"I could waste our time giving you the standard lines about politics, media relations, public relations, image and perception, and the often tricky dynamics between the NYPSD and the mayor's office."

Whitney flipped credits out of his pocket and into a beggar's cup without breaking stride. "But I won't. You're aware of all of this already, just as I'm aware you're not particularly concerned with any of that. I will say it will be helpful and it will be simpler for all involved if you cooperated with Chang as much as possible. When it doesn't impede or interfere with your investigation."

"Yes, sir."

"As to the matter of your interview with Donald and Sylvia Dukes this morning."

"It wasn't an interview, Commander, but a few informal questions in their home, and with their permission."

"You can play the semantics game when it suits you. Whatever term used, the files on Devin Dukes were sealed, and remain so at this time."

"Data isn't always accessed through files, sir."

"Yes, you can play the game. Are you willing to divulge your source?"

"No, sir, nor am I required to under Departmental Code 12, Article-"

"Don't quote departmental codes at me, Dallas." He continued to walk easily, despite the pressing heat. But his tone took on an edge. "If it comes to a civil trial, both you and those codes will be tested."

"It won't. Not only will the issue be moot when I charge Donald Dukes with conspiracy to commit, but he's going to need to pool all his legal resources for his defense."

"He's part of it?"

"He's up to his neck."

"The mother?"

Eve shook her head. "I don't think so. She's too passive. I'm doing a background to try to determine how skilled a programmer Duke might be. Regardless, I believe him to be a key player. He wouldn't settle for less. I could break him in Interview. He's angry and he's arrogant, and he needs to be right. He doesn't like women in authority, either, so that'll push. Likes them in their proper place," she continued, half to herself. "Wife's all shined up like a show dog, wearing an apron. Lip dye and earrings at nine in the morning."

"My wife puts on her makeup before breakfast"

"Weird. But nobody intimidates Mrs. Whitney. Nobody pushes her around." Eve caught herself, winced. "No disrespect intended, Commander."

"None taken."

"I need a few more threads to tie Dukes, then I can bring him in."

"Find the threads, and make them strong ones."

"I think he's maintained a relationship with the social worker and the cop who were on his son's case. And I think they're involved. I tie any one of them, I'll tie them all."

They streamed through another intersection, turned west.

"Make sure of it. A mistake will blow this up in our faces and you'll take the brunt of that. On another matter, it was good to see McNab on his feet."

"Yes, sir, very good."

"He looks a little shaky yet."

"I'm keeping his workload light, and Peabody's…" She clammed up, redirected. Must be something about walking outside like a couple of tourists that loosened her tongue, she decided. "Peabody's taking up the slack."

"Do you think I'm unaware of the relationship between the EDD detective and your aide, Lieutenant?"

Eve stared straight ahead. "I don't like to talk about it. It makes me twitchy."

"Excuse me?"

"Literally. I get this tic right under my eye every time… Never mind. Both Detective McNab and Officer Peabody fulfill their duties inan exemplary fashion. I plan to submit Peabody's name for consideration for promotion to Detective First Grade."

"How many years does she have in?"

"Almost three, and over a year of that in Homicide. Her work and her record warrant the consideration, sir. If you could find time to look at her files, and my evaluations, and if you agree with my recommendation, she could start preparing for the test."

"I'll let you know. Can you spare McNab for an hour, maybe two, this afternoon?"

"Yes, sir, if necessary."

"Then I'm pulling him. He'll do a one-on-one with Furst, in studio, in response to the statements issued this morning."

"Sir, that doesn't go down easy. Putting him on display after his injuries? On the day of Halloway's memorial?"

"This is what's known as compromise, Lieutenant." His tone remained mild, a dash of ice water on the heat of hers. "Power and authority demand compromise. Do you doubt he can handle it? More, do you doubt he'll stand for Halloway?"

"No, sir, I don't doubt it."

"You don't like him being used as a symbol." Whitney moved to the entrance of Cop Central. "But that's what he is. And, Lieutenant, so are you."

Inside, he looked around the enormous lobby with its many data stations, animated locator maps. At the cops, at the victims, at the guilty.

"And so," he said, "is this. This stands for law and order, and it's on display. It is, very simply, on trial due to the manipulations and maneuvers of a group of terrorists. It's more than closing your case. It's winning the verdict. Find the threads. If you're going to take down the father of a dead teenager, be sure you tie them tight."

She decided to tie other threads by taking the time to write an official report on her morning activities. But when she walked into her office, Don Webster was at her desk.

"I keep finding IAB in my chair, I'm going to have to have it replaced."

"Close the door, Dallas."

"I've got a report to write, then I have to get out in the field."

He got up, closed the door himself. "We'll make this quick. I have to record this conversation."

"What's this conversation, and why do you have to record it?"

"It's in regards to your access of data contained in sealeds. Take a minute to think," he said before she could speak. "Take a minute to think before the recorder goes on."