J. Robb: Vengeance in Death

"He couldn't have fought off a drunk cockroach. Victim was restrained by his remaining wrist. Drugs administered were a combination of adrenaline and digitalis – that would keep the heart beating, the brain conscious while he was worked over." Morris blew out a breath. "And he was worked over good. Death didn't come quick or easy for this Irish rover."

Morris's eyes remained mild behind his safety goggles. He gestured with a sealed hand to a small metal tray. "I found that in his stomach along with his lunch."

Eve frowned down at the tray. The object was about the size of a five-dollar credit. It was glossy white with a bright green image painted on it. On the other side was an oblong shape that met at one end with crossed lines.

"A four-leaf clover," Morris supplied. "It's a symbol for good luck. Your murderer has a strong and nasty sense of irony. On the back – that funny shape? Your guess is as good as mine."

"I'll take it with me." Eve slipped the token into an evidence bag. "I intend to ask Dr. Mira to consult on this case. We need a profile. She'll contact you shortly."

"Always a pleasure to work with Mira, and you, Lieutenant." The communication band on his wrist buzzed. "Death Palace. Morris."

"Mrs. Eileen Brennen has arrived and requests to view her husband's remains."

"Take her on into my office. I'll be there shortly." He turned to Eve. "No use her seeing the poor bastard like this. You want to interview her?"

"Yes."

"Use my office as long as you need it. Mrs. Brennen can see the body in twenty minutes. He'll be… presentable by then."

"Thanks." She headed for the door.

"Dallas."

"Yeah?"

"Evil is – well, it's not a term I like to toss around like candy. Kind of embarrassing." He moved his shoulders. "But the guy who did this… it's the only word I can think of that fits."

Those words played back in Eve's head as she faced Eileen Brennen. The woman was trim and tidy. Though her eyes were dry, her face was waxy pale. Her hands didn't shake, but neither could they be still. She tugged at the gold cross that hung on a thin chain to her waist, tugged at the hem of her skirt, combed fingers through her wavy blond hair.

"I want to see the body you found. I insist on seeing it. It's my right."

"You will, Mrs. Brennen. We're arranging that. If I could have a few minutes of your time first, it would be very helpful."

"How do I know it's him? How do I know it's my Tommy until I see him?"

There was no point in offering hope. "Mrs. Brennen, we've identified your husband. Fingerprints, DNA, and the visual ID of the doorman at the Luxury Towers. I'm sorry, there's no mistake. Please sit down. Can I get you anything? Some water."

"I don't want anything. Nothing." Eileen sat with a little jerk, her hands closing and unclosing. "He was to join us today, in Dublin. Today. He only stayed back in New York this past week to finish up some business. He was coming today, stopping off in London first last night."

"So you weren't expecting him until today."

"No. He didn't call last night, he was supposed to call from London, but sometimes he gets busy." She unclasped her purse, shut it again, repeating the movement over and over. "I didn't think anything of it. I didn't think anything of it," she repeated and fisted her hand over the cross until the rounded points dug into her palm.

"So you didn't try to contact him?"

"The children and I, we went out to dinner and to an entertainment center. We got home late, and Maize was cross. I put her to bed and went to sleep. I just went to sleep because I was tired and I didn't even think of Tommy not calling from London."

Eve let her wind down, then sat across from her in one of Dr. Morris's soft brown cloth chairs. "Mrs. Brennen, can you tell me about the business your husband stayed in New. York to see to?"

"I don't – I don't know that much about it. I don't understand all of that. I'm a professional mother. I have children to raise, three houses to run. We have another home in the country. In the west of Ireland. I don't understand business. Why should I?" she demanded in a voice that cracked.

"All right. Can you tell me if your husband mentioned anyone who concerned him? Someone who threatened him or disturbed him."

"Tommy doesn't have enemies. Everyone likes him. He's a fair man, a kind-hearted one. You've only to ask anyone who knows him." Her eyes, a pale blue, focused on Eve's face again, and she leaned forward. "You see, that's why you must be wrong. You must have made a mistake. No one would hurt Tommy. And the Luxury Towers is very secure. That's why we chose it for our home in New York. So much crime in the city, and Tommy wanted me and the children safe."

"You met your husband in Ireland."

Eileen blinked, distracted. "Yes, more than twelve years ago. In Dublin."

"Did he still have friends from that time, associates?"

"I… he has so many friends. I…" She passed a hand over her eyes. "There would always seem to be someone who'd call hello to him if we were out. And sometimes he'd go to a little pub when we were in Dublin. I don't care much for pubs, so I didn't often go. But he'd get a yearning now and then and go in for an evening."

"What was the pub?"

"The name? The Penny Pig, I think it's called." Suddenly Eileen gripped Eve's arm. "I have to see him. I have to."

"All right. Just give me a moment. I'll be right back." Eve stepped outside the office, pulled out her communicator. "Peabody."

"Lieutenant."

"The Penny Pig. Any of the pubs on your list by that name?''

"Just a second… no, sir. Nothing with Pig at all."

"Just a thought. Keep at it. I'll be in touch." She shifted, contacted Dr. Morris. "She needs to see him."

"He's as good as he's going to get here. I'll pass you both through."

Eve opened the office door. "Mrs. Brennen. If you'll come with me now."

"You're taking me to him."

"Yes."

As much for support as guidance, Eve took Eileen's elbow. Their footsteps echoed down the white-tiled corridor. At the door, Eve felt the woman stiffen and brace. Heard her draw in a breath and hold it.

Then they were inside. Morris had done what he could, but there was no disguising the trauma. There was no way to soften death.

Eileen let out the breath in one choked sob. Just one, then she drew it in again and gently pushed Eve's supporting hand aside.

"It's my Tommy. This is my husband." She stepped closer, approaching the white-sheeted figure as if he were sleeping. Eve said nothing when Eileen traced fingertips over her husband's cheek. "How can I tell our babies, Tommy? What will I tell them?"

She looked over at Eve, and though her eyes swam, she seemed determined to hold onto her tears. "Who could have done such a thing to such a good man?"

"It's my job to find out. I will do my job, Mrs. Brennen. You can rely on that."

"Finding out won't bring Tommy back to me or our children. Finding out's too late, isn't it?"

Death, Eve thought, made everything too late. "It's all I have for you, Mrs. Brennen."

"I don't know if it can be enough, Lieutenant Dallas. I don't know if I can make it be enough." She bent over, softly kissed her husband's lips. "I always loved you, Tommy. From the first."

"Come with me now, Mrs. Brennen." Eileen didn't resist as Eve took her arm. "Come outside. Who can I call for you?'' "I – my friend Katherine Hastings. She lives… she has a place on Fifth Avenue, a shop. Noticeable Woman."

"I'll call. I'll have her come and meet you here."

"Thank you. I need… someone."

"Do you want some water now? Coffee?"

"No, just to sit down." And she all but collapsed into a stiff-backed chair in the waiting area. "Just to get off my feet. I'll be fine." She looked up, blue eyes swimming in a white face. "I'll be all right. I have the children, you see. I have to be all right."