J. Robb - Purity in Death

"Are you at your home office?"

"Yes, sir. I can be at Central in-"

"No. The chief is closer to you than downtown. For that matter, at this point, so am I. I'll contact him. Expect us within thirty minutes."

"Yes, sir."

"Has your team been informed of this development?"

"No, sir. Just the expert consultant who was working with me when this new development surfaced."

"Keep it that way for now. Out."

Even as the screen blanked, there was a quick knock on her door. Nadine burst in.

"Damn it, Nadine, when I close a door it's because I want it closed. I don't have time for the media. Go away."

"Don't be so hasty." She closed the door at her back, then crossing the room at a clip, tossed a disc to Eve. "I went to a lot of trouble to get that to you and I don't want anyone to know you got it from me."

"Why, and what is it?"

"Why, because it could be perceived as taking media/police relations one step too far. I've a strong feeling the bosses at 75 would think so. What it is, is a copy of the home vid 75 boughtafter what I'm told was a rapid and lively negotiation from a tourist. A tourist who was taking a spin on an airtram when Nick Greene ran out on his balcony. They're going to air at nine, sharp. I wanted to give you a heads up."

"Channel 75 is going to air a guy killing himself?"

"I'm not saying I approve. I'm not saying I disapprove. This hits at nine, it's going to be big. What I will say, for your ears only, is I disapprove of going public with it without informing the police first. The vid doesn't change the outcome, the investigation, but I don't like the way it might stir up more support for Purity. So I'm giving you time to structure a response."

"Have you looked at this?" Eve held up the disc.

"I ran it on my way over. It's grim, it's ugly. And it makes Greene look like a monster. It's going to be easy to look at it and think: Thank God he's dead."

"Give me the name of the tourist."

"I can't do it." She pushed impatiently at her mane of hair. "Dallas, even if I knew, I couldn't do it. A source is a source."

"Is this your story?"

"No."

"Then he's not your source."

Nadine shook her head. "I'll only go so far over, same as you. If you're thinking this guy was a plant, I don't see how he could've been. But I'll look into it. I will promise if I smell a setup, I'll spill."

Satisfied, Eve nodded. "Tell me one thing. How much they shell out for this?"

"Dallas-"

"Off the record, Nadine. For both of us. I'm just curious."

"One cool mil for twenty seconds of feed."

"I guess he really hit the jackpot. I know you didn't have to do this. I won't forget it."

"So, you owe me one."

"I don't like to owe. Something's going to bust," she said after a moment. "Likely within the next day or two. Don't bother to ask any questions, I won't answer. When it goes down and I'm cleared to talk about it, I'll give you an exclusive."

"Within an hour after it goes down."

"I can't promise that. At the first possible opportunity."

"Good enough. I've got to go. And I was never here."

When the door was closed again, Eve slid in the new disc, ordered a run.

She saw Greene's balcony, saw the door swing open. He came out fast, he came out bloody. The image bobbled as the operator jerked at what he saw through his viewer, and she heard his gasping oath. But he was cool enough to zoom in.

Yes, he looked like a monster, Eve thought. Blood literally dripping from his fingers, his hair. His mouth was wide, his eyes wild and red as a demon's. He hacked at the air with the knife, beat a fist against his own head.

He raced from one end of the terrace to the other, batting at the air as if swatting at insects. Then gripping the knife in both hands, he threw back his head. And plunged it into his own chest.

"Holy shit." Jamie stood in the doorway leading to Roarke's office. His jaw was slack, his gaze riveted to Eve's view screen.

"Goddamn it. End run. That door was closed."

"Sorry. Roarke asked me to… I was just getting something for him and wanted to ask you-doesn't matter." He took a steadying breath, scrubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. "That's the guy from yesterday, right? Yesterday's homicide."

"You should be in the lab."

"I'm part of this team." His chin came up. "My grandfather was a cop, and I'm going to be one. I've seen blood before. I killed a man."

"Shut up." She snapped it out, striding over to close the door behind him. "There's an official report, with my name on it, that states Alban was killed during the struggle to disarm and arrest. You want to fuck me over, Jamie, you keep saying you killed a man."

"I wouldn't do anything to mess you up." Something of what he felt for her, the core of love he tried to bury under a blanket of teenaged cool, surfaced on his face. "I'd never do that, Dallas."

Because she saw it, she eased back before it embarrassed them both. "Okay."

"This is between you and me. I know you kept me out of the briefing yesterday, and I can figure why. You didn't think I should see something like that." He nodded toward the screen. "The new guy, Trueheart, he's what? Three years older than me? Maybe four. What's the difference?"

"He's wearing a uniform."

"So will I."

She studied his face. Something in those gray eyes was already half-cop. "Yeah. Yeah, you will. Look, I'm not saying you can't handle yourself. There's a lot of bad shit out there. You see too much of it too soon, it can swallow you up before you get started."

"I've already seen a lot of it."

"There's more that's just as bad. There's more that's worse. You get through the Academy, you put on the uniform. That's soon enough to start dealing with it."

"Okay."

"Now scram. And do me a favor. I've got a meeting, a private meeting in a few minutes. Keep everyone the hell out of here."

"Sure." He grinned and looked terrifyingly young. "Trueheart's got a little thing for you."

"Get out."

As he laughed, she gave him a shove and shut the door in his face. She went back to her desk, copied the disc for her files, then sealed the other for her commander.

She took the rest of the time to update her evidence log, sealed that as well. Then organized her thoughts.

At the knock on her door, she took a deep breath, and rose to open it for the city's two top cops.

"During the course of investigating the Greene/Wade homicides," Eve began, "I found Greene's financials didn't jibe with his lifestyle. Even assuming a substantial unreported income through his alleged dealings in illegals and sexual services, purchases, and other assets accumulated over the previous year far exceeded any projected monies."

"You assumed he had another source," Whitney put in.

"Yes, sir. During the initial search and sweep of the premises-"

"Lieutenant." Tibble held up a hand to stop her. "Is there a reason you're taking us down the long road here?"

"I think my findings in this matter are going to require a solid foundation."

"Fine. But there's no need for the formalities. Just lay it out."

"Yes, sir. We found a safe when we did the first pass. There wasn't enough in it as review of the security tapes showed us three probable deals going down in his digs during the last week. He didn't go out himself, so he wouldn't have made any deposits. The guy dealt in cash primarily. No way he's going to hand his take over to a teenager he found in a club and trust her to dump it into his safebox or dummy account. Had to be another cache in his place, just like there had to be another source of income. Given the type of clientele he serviced, blackmail seemed the most logical sideline."

"You felt this assumed sideline connected with Purity?" Tibble asked her.