J. Robb - Immortal in Death

"Take your time, Lieutenant." He plucked up Eve's champagne and drank it himself. He gave her ten minutes, then wandered out of the ballroom.

She was standing at the hotel entrance, watching Jerry being loaded into a cruiser.

"What was that for?"

"I needed to buy some time and some probable cause. The suspect showed violent tendencies and a nervous manner, indicative of drug use."

Cops, Roarke thought. "You pissed her off, Eve."

"That, too. She'll be out almost before they get her in. I've got to move."

"Where?" he demanded as they hurried around the ballroom to the backstage area.

"I need a sample of that stuff she likes to drink. The assault gives me clearance – if we bend things a little. I want it analyzed."

"You honestly think she's using illegals that blatantly?"

"I think people like her – like Pandora and Young and Redford – are incredibly arrogant. They've got money, looks, a certain amount of power and prestige. It makes them feel above the law." She sent him a look as she slipped into Pandora's dressing room. "You have the same tendencies."

"Thank you so much."

"Lucky for you, I came along to keep you on the straight and narrow. Watch the door, will you? If she's got a quick lawyer, I'm not going to have time to finish this."

"The straight and narrow, naturally," Roarke commented and stationed himself at the door as she searched the room.

"Christ, there's a fortune in cosmetic enhancements."

"It is her business, Lieutenant."

"Vanity's costing her several hundred K a year, I'd say, just on the topicals. Christ knows what she spends in ingestives and sculpting. If I could just find a little of that nice powder."

"You're looking for Immortality?" He let out a laugh. "She may be arrogant, but she doesn't look stupid."

"Maybe you're right." She opened the door of a friggie and smiled. "But she's got a container of that drink in here. A locked container." Pursing her lips, Eve looked toward Roarke. "I don't suppose you could…"

"Veer from the straight and narrow." He sighed, walked over, and studied the lock on the clear bottle. "Sophisticated. She's not taking any chances with it. The bottle's unbreakable from the look of it." His fingers played over the lock mechanism as he spoke. "Find me a nail file, a hair clip, something like that, will you?"

Eve pushed through the drawers. "Will this do?"

Roarke frowned at the tiny pair of manicure scissors. "Close enough." He jiggled the lock with the points, finessed, and stepped back. "There you are."

"You're awfully good at that."

"Just a small, insignificant talent, Lieutenant."

"Right." She dug in her bag, pulled out an evidence holder. She filled it with a couple of ounces. "That should be more than enough."

"Would you like me to relock it? It would only take a moment."

"Don't bother. We can swing by the lab on the way."

"On the way to?"

"To where I've got Peabody staked out. Justin Young's back door." She started out, flicking him a smile. "You know, Roarke, Jerry was right about one thing. I have pretty good taste in men."

"Darling, your taste is impeccable."

Being hooked up with a rich man had a number of disadvantages in Eve's mind, but it had one overwhelming plus. That was food. On the way back across town she managed to stuff herself to bursting with chicken Kiev from the fully stocked AutoChef in his car.

"Nobody has chicken Kiev in their car unit," she said with her mouth full.

"They do if they run around with you. Otherwise you'd live off soy burgers and irradiated powdered eggs."

"I hate irradiated powdered eggs."

"Exactly." It pleased him to hear her chuckle. "You're in a rare old mood, Lieutenant."

"It's coming together, Roarke. They'll drop charges on Mavis by Monday morning, and by then I'll have the bastards. It was all money," she said and dabbed up grains of wild rice with her fingers. "Fucking money. Pandora was the connection to Immortality, and those three high flyers wanted their share."

"So they lured her to Leonardo's and killed her."

"Leonardo's was probably her idea. She wasn't letting go there, and she was revved to fight. Gave them the perfect opportunity and setting. Mavis walking in was just icing. They'd have left Leonardo hanging by his balls, otherwise."

"Not to question your quick, agile, and suspicious mind, but why not just whack her in an alley? If you're right, they'd done it before."

"So they wanted some staging this time." She moved her shoulders. "Hetta Moppett was a potential loose end. One of them confronted her, likely questioned her, then got rid of her. Better not to chance whatever Boomer had let slip during sex."

"Then Boomer came next."

"He knew too much, had too much. It's not likely he knew about all three of them. But he'd nailed at least one, and when he spotted that one in the club, he went underground. They managed to get him out, tortured him, killed him. But they didn't have time to go back and get the stuff."

"All for profit?"

"For profit, and if that analysis comes out the way I think it will, for Immortality. Pandora was on it, no question. My take is that whatever Pandora had or wanted, Jerry Fitzgerald wanted to have more. You've got a drug that makes you look good, younger, sexier. It could be worth a fortune to her professionally. Not to mention her ego."

"But it's lethal."

"That's what they say about smoking, but I've seen you light up some tobacco." She arched a brow at him. "Unprotected sex was lethal during the latter half of the twentieth century. Didn't stop people from fucking strangers. Guns are lethal, but we spent decades getting them off the street. Then – "

"Point taken. Most of us think we're going to live forever. Did you do testing on Redford?"

"We did. He's clean. Doesn't mean his hands are any less bloody. I'm going to lock the three of them away for the next fifty years."

Roarke eased the car to a stop at a light, turned to look at her. "Eve, are you after them for murder, or for messing with the life of your friend?"

"The results are the same."

"Your feelings aren't."

"They hurt her," she said tightly. "They put her through hell. Forced me to help them put her through it. She lost her job, and a lot of her confidence. They're going to pay for that."

"All right. I only have one thing to say."

"I don't need criticisms on procedure from a guy who pops locks like you, pal."

He took out a handkerchief, dabbed at her chin. "The next time you start to say you have no family," he began quietly, "think again. Mavis is yours."

She started to speak, reevaluated. "I'm doing my job," she decided. "If I get some personal pleasure out of it, what's wrong with that?"

"Not a thing." He kissed her lightly, then turned left.

"I want to go around the back of the building. Take a right at the next corner, then – "

"I know how to get around the back of that building."

"Don't tell me you own that one, too."

"All right, I won't tell you. And by the way, if you had asked me about the security setup at Young's place, I could have saved you – or I should say Feeney – a little time and trouble." When she huffed, he smiled. "If I get some personal pleasure out of owning large chunks of Manhattan, what's wrong with that?"

She turned to stare out of the window so he couldn't see her smirk.

For Roarke, it seemed, there would always be a table at the most exclusive restaurant, front row seats at the current hit play, and a convenient parking place on the street. He glided in and killed the engine.

"You don't, I trust, expect me to wait here."

"What I expect doesn't usually hold water with you. Come on, but try to remember you're a civilian. I'm not."