J. Robb - Vengeance in Death

Roarke was far from stupid, she mused. He'd taken his time, covered his tracks. All she had to do now was to see that they stayed covered.

If she had one break first, one solid, tangible piece of evidence to indicate a conspiracy. Anything she could put in Whitney's hand to help convince him to buy the rest.

She heard a shout from the next room and scowled, annoyed that she'd neglected to engage the sound control. But as she rose to do so, the excited voices on the other side of the door drew her through it.

"Okay, what's the big fucking deal? Did you find a new way to play Space Marauders?"

"I found an echo." McNab was nearly dancing as he continually slapped Roarke on the back. "I found a goddamn beautiful echo."

"Take it to the Alps, pal, and you can have lots of echoes."

"An electronic echo. The bastard's good, but I'm better. He bounced the transmission from the core system right here in the house, but he didn't send it from here. No indeed he didn't, because I have a fucking-A echo."

"Good job, Ian. Here's another. See it?" Roarke pointed to a small needle gauge jury-rigged to the 'link. Eve saw nothing, but McNab hooted.

"Yeah, baby, that's the way. I can work with this, you bet your ass I can."

"Wait a minute." Eve muscled between them before they could slap backs again. "Explain this in terms normal people can understand. No e-jabber."

"Okay, try this." McNab inched a hip onto her desk. He was wearing hearts in his ears today. A dozen tiny red hearts Eve tried not to focus on. "The last incoming from mystery boy you received. I tracked it all over the damn place, and into here. Every indication showed the transmission originated from this building."

"I got that."

"But we don't want to believe that, so we open up the system for element scan. It's like – Do you cook?"

Roarke only chuckled. Eve sneered. "Let's be serious."

"Okay, I was going to say like a recipe where you separate the eggs from the sugar and like that."

"I'm not a moron, McNab, I can follow that."

"Good, great. When we're taking the elements for our cake and examining each one for, like, quality, maybe we see one's off, just a tad off. Like the milk's turned. So when we figure the milk's turned we want to know why. Now we find there's a leak in our refrigeration system. Just a tiny leak, microscopic, but enough to affect the quality, enough to let in germs. Your house system had a germ."

"What does that have to do with echoes?"

"Ian." Roarke held up a hand. "Before you whip up a four-course meal, let me explain this. Electronic signals leave a pattern," he told Eve patiently. "And that pattern can be tracked and simulated. We've run the patterns for incomings on this unit for the last six weeks. We also ran patterns for outgoings from the main system for the same length of time. When doing so, and taking it through several levels, we discovered a shift in pattern on one incoming. The one that matters. An echo – or a shadow layered over the consistent pattern – which clearly indicates a different source."

"You can prove the transmission didn't originate from here?"

"Exactly."

"Is this the kind of proof you can put into black and white and I can take to Whitney?"

"You betcha." McNab beamed at her. "EDD's used this kind of evidence in hundreds of cases. It's standard. This one was buried deep and the pattern was nearly smooth. But we found her."

"You found her," Roarke corrected.

"I couldn't have done it without your equipment and your help. I missed it twice."

"You came through."

"Before I toddle off," Eve interrupted, "and leave you two boys to bask in the glow of mutual admiration, would you mind taking just a moment to distill this evidence into hard copy and disc for my pesky report?"

"Lieutenant." Roarke laid a hand on McNab's shoulder. "You're embarrassing us with your praise and gratitude."

"You want praise and gratitude?" On impulse, she grabbed Roarke's face in her hands and kissed him hard on the mouth. Then – what the hell – she did the same to McNab. "I want the data within the hour," she added as she strode out.

"Wow." McNab pressed his lips together to hold on to the taste, then patted a hand on his heart. "The lieutenant has some great mouth."

"Don't make me hurt you, Ian, just when we're beginning such a beautiful friendship."

"She got a sister? Cousin? Maiden aunt?"

"Lieutenant Dallas is one of a kind." Roarke watched the needle give another, barely discernable jerk. "Ian, let's distill this data for her, then wouldn't it be fun to see just how far we can follow this echo?''

McNab's brow furrowed. "You want to try to track an echo this faint? Hell, Roarke, it takes days of man-hours and top equipment to track a solid one. I've never heard of anything below the scale of fifteen being tracked."

"There's always a first time."

McNab's eyes began to shine. "Yeah, the boys in EDD would bow to me if I pulled it off."

"More than enough reason to push forward, I'd say."

Eve paced the reception area outside Mira's office. What the hell was taking so long, she wondered, and checked her wrist unit once again. It was twelve-thirty. Summerset had been in testing for ninety minutes. Eve had until one to present her progress reports to her commander.

She needed Mira's findings.

To help herself wait, she practiced her oral backup to her written reports. The words she would use, the tone she would take. She felt like a second-rate actor running lines backstage. Sweat pooled at the base of her spine.

The minute the door opened, she leaped at Summerset. "What's the deal?"

His eyes were dark and hard in a pale face, his jaw clenched, his mouth thin. Humiliation rolled greasily in his stomach. "I've followed your orders, Lieutenant, and completed the required testing. I've sacrificed my privacy and my dignity. I hope that satisfies you."

He stalked past her and through the outer doors.

"Screw it," Eve muttered and walked straight into Mira's office.

Mira smiled, sipped her tea. She'd had no trouble hearing Summerset's bitter comments. "He's a complicated man."

"He's an ass, but that's irrelevant. Can you give me a bottom line?"

"It will take some time for me to review all the tests and complete my report."

"I've got Whitney in twenty minutes. I'll take anything you can give me."

"A preliminary opinion then." Mira poured another cup of tea, gesturing for Eve to sit. "He's a man with little respect for the law, and a great deal of respect for order."

Eve took the tea but didn't drink. "Which means?"

"He's most comfortable when things are in their place, and he's somewhat obsessive about keeping them there. The law itself, the laws society makes mean little to him as they are variable, often poorly designed, and quite often fail. Aesthetics are also important to him – his surroundings, appearances – as he appreciates the order in beauty. He's a creature of routine. This soothes him, this pattern, this stability. He arises at a certain hour and retires at a certain hour. His duties are clearly outlined and followed. Even his recreation, his free time is organized."

"So, he's a tight-ass. I already knew that."

"His way of dealing with the horrors he witnessed during the Urban Wars, the poverty and despair he escaped from, and the loss of his only child is to create a certain acceptable pattern, then follow it. But… in unclinical terms, yes, he's a tight-ass. However rigid he might be, however much he may sneer at the laws of society, he is one of the most non-violent personalities I've encountered."

"He's given me a few bruises," Eve muttered under her breath.

"You disturb his need for order," Mira said, not without sympathy. "But the fact is, true violence is abhorrent to him. It offends his very rigid sense of order and place. And it's wasteful. He finds waste repellent. Again, I believe, because he saw far too much of it throughout his life. As I said, it will take a bit of time to review the tests, but I would say at this point it's my opinion that someone of his personality structure is unlikely to have committed the crimes you're investigating."