J. Robb - Conspiracy in Death

"Nick who?"

"Charles, darling. We're going to have to spend time educating you in the entertainment value of classic early-twentieth-century cinema."

"I don't know where you find time for that stuff. It must be because you don't sleep like a regular human being. You're out there piling up billions and buying small worlds and – which reminds me, we need to discuss this idiotic idea of yours about stuffing money in some account for me. I want you to take it back."

"All five million plus, or less the half million you're donating to the Canal Street Clinic?"

"Don't get smart with me, pal. I married you for your body, not your bucks."

"Darling Eve, that's so touching. And all the while I thought it was my coffee connection."

Love could swamp her at the oddest times, she realized. "That didn't hurt. Tomorrow, you do whatever it is you do to zap it back out and close it down. And next time you… Louise. Oh Christ. Head to the Drake! Head there now! Damn it, how did this slip by us?"

He punched up speed, clipped the curb at the corner. "You think they'll go after her?"

"They took out Jan. They can't let Louise talk." Ignoring jams and privacy, she used the car 'link and tagged Feeney on his communicator.

"Get to the Drake," she told him. "Get to Louise. I'm on my way, ETA five minutes. They'll go for her, Feeney. They've got to go for her. She had data."

"We'll head out. She's under guard, Dallas."

"It won't matter. The uniform won't question a doctor. Contact him, Feeney, tell him not to let anyone in that room."

"Confirmed. Our ETA fifteen minutes."

"We'll be there in two," Roarke promised her as he flew across town. "Waverly?"

"Current president of AMA, chief of surgery, organ specialist, board member. Affiliated with several top-level centers worldwide." She slapped a hand on the dash to keep her balance when he swung into the garage. "Cagney – he's her uncle, but he's chief of staff, chairman, and one of the most respected surgeons in the country. Hans Vanderhaven, international connections. God knows where he is right now. If not them, there are others who can walk right in and get to her without anyone blinking twice. There must be a dozen ways to off a patient, then cover the tracks."

She sprang out of the car, raced for the elevator. "They don't know she's talked to me. She's smart enough to keep that to herself, maybe to play dumb if anybody tries to pump her. But they might have gotten something out of Jan before they killed her. They've got to know by now she has data on the calls, asked questions, made accusations."

She watched the numbers light above the door, willed them to hurry.

"They'd wait until the floor was quiet, until the change of shifts, most likely."

"We won't be too late," she promised herself, and sprang out of the elevator the moment the doors opened.

"Miss!" A nurse came scrambling around the desk as Eve rushed by. "Miss, you're required to check in at the desk. You're not authorized." Racing after them, she dragged out her beeper and called security.

"Where's the uniform assigned to this door?" Eve demanded, shoving and finding the door itself secured.

"I don't know." Grim-faced, the nurse moved over to block them from the door. "This is a family or authorized personnel only area."

"Unlock this door."

"I will not. I've called security. The patient in this room is not to be disturbed as per doctor's orders. I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Go ahead and ask." Rearing back, Eve broke the door open with two vicious kicks. Her clutch piece seemed to leap into her hand as she ran through. "Oh God, goddamn."

The bed was empty.

The nurse sputtered when Eve whirled on her, grabbed her by the collar of her pale peach uniform smock. "Where's Louise?"

"I – I don't know. She's supposed to be here. She was logged out as not to disturb when I came on shift twenty minutes ago."

"Eve. Here's your uniform."

Roarke was crouched on the other side of the bed, testing the unconscious cop's pulse. "He's alive, sedated heavily I'd say."

"Which doctor logged her as not to be disturbed?"

"Her attending. Dr. Waverly."

"Do something for that uniform," she ordered the nurse. "Cops will be here in ten minutes. I want you to order this building sealed, all exits."

"I don't have the authority."

"Do it!" Eve repeated. She spun on her heel. "Organ wing, best guess. We'll have to separate when we get there. We can't cover the whole wing in time unless we do."

"We'll find her." They hit the elevator together. He pried open the plate, flipped some controls. "We're now straight express. Brace yourself."

She didn't even have the breath to curse. The speed pressed her into the corner, made her eyes tear and her heart thunder. She had a moment to pray he'd remembered to engage the brakes when they jerked to a stop that had her stumbling hard into him.

"Some ride. Here, take my piece."

"Thanks, Lieutenant, but I have my own." His face was cold and set as he drew out a sleek nine-millimeter. A weapon, like all handguns, that had been banned decades earlier.

"Shit," was all she had time to say.

"I'll go east, you take the west side."

"Don't fire that weapon unless – " she began, but he was out and gone.

She got her bearings and moved down the corridor, sweeping with her weapon as she came to a turn or a door. She fought the urge to rush. Each new area had to be carefully searched before she moved to the next.

She gazed up to the cameras scanning. It would be a miracle, she knew, if she came across her objective without being expected. And she knew she was being led when doors that should have been locked gave way as she approached.

"Okay, you son of a bitch," she whispered. "You want a one-on-one? So do I."

She made another turn, faced double doors fashioned of heavy, opaque glass. There was a palm plate, a cornea scanner, timed locks. A computerized voice activated as she stepped forward.

Warning. This is a secured area. Authorized Level Five personnel only. Hazardous biological material contained within. Warning. Anti-contamination suits required. No entry without authorization.

The doors slid smoothly open.

"I guess I've just been authorized."

"Your tenacity is admirable, Lieutenant. Please, come in."

Waverly had removed his lab coat. He was dressed as if for an elegant evening engagement in a perfectly cut dark suit with a silk tie. His gold caduceus glinted in the bright lights.

He smiled charmingly and held a pressure syringe against the pulse in Louise's throat. Eve's heart bumped once, hard against her ribs. Then she saw the gentle rise and fall of Louise's breasts.

Still breathing, she thought, and she intended to keep it that way.

"You got sloppy in the end, Doc."

"I don't think so. Just a few loose ends needing to be tied off and snipped. I suggest you put down your weapon, Lieutenant, unless you want me to administer this very fast-acting, very lethal medication to our young friend here."

"Is that the same stuff you used on Friend and Wo?"

"As it happens, Hans treated Tia. But, yes. It's painless and efficient. The drug of choice for discriminating self-terminators. She'll be dead in less than three minutes. Now, put down your weapon."

"You kill her, you've got no shield."

"You won't let me kill her." He smiled again. "You can't. A woman who risks her life for dead derelicts will swallow her pride for the life of an innocent. I've made quite a study of you in the past couple of weeks, Lieutenant – or should I say former Lieutenant Dallas."

"You saw to that, too." She would count on her wits now, Eve thought, as she laid the gun on the counter beside her. And on Roarke.

"You made that simple, all in all. Or Bowers did. Close doors and secure," he ordered, and she heard them snick together at her back, locking her in. Locking backup out.