J. Robb - Creation In Death

“Give me a minute. Hey,” she said to Ariel, “how you doing?”

“They gave me some really mag drugs. I feel sooooo good. You saved my life.” Ariel reached up to grip Eve’s hand.

“I had a part in it. So did the cops crowding into this place, and this civilian here, too. But mostly, Ariel? You saved yourself. We’re going to need to talk to you some more, when you’re feeling a little better.”

“So he pays.”

“That’s right.”

“Anytime, anyplace.”

“Okay. One more second,” she told the MTs, and held out a hand to Roarke. “Let me have your pocket ’link.” She took it, keyed in a number. “Hey, Erik. Hey,” she repeated when he began to spew out questions. “Quiet down. I’ve got someone here who wants to talk to you.” She put the ’link into Ariel’s hand. “Say hi, Ariel.”

“Erik? Erik?” She began to cry, to laugh, and beamed up at Eve with drug-hazed eyes. “He’s crying. Don’t cry, Erik. I’m okay now. Everything’s okay.”

“Go ahead,” Eve said to the MTs, “and tell the guy on the ’link where you’re taking her. He’ll want to be there.”

“Nice job, Lieutenant,” Roarke murmured as they wheeled Ariel out.

“Yeah. And you can always get another ’link. I have to go in, finish this up.”

“We have to go in, finish this up,” Roarke corrected.

S he was steadier when she got to Central, and forced down some of the Eatery’s fake eggs in the hopes of smoothing out her system. She forked them up in the war room, chasing them with all the water she could stand.

She wanted a shower, she wanted a bed. But more than she wanted anything, she wanted a turn with Lowell in the box.

She set the food aside, rose, and walked over to stare at all the names on the board. “For all of them,” she said quietly. “What we did, what we do now, it’s for all of them. That’s the point that has to be made. In the box, in the courts, in the media. It’s important.”

“No one who worked in this room these last days will forget them,” Roarke told her.

She nodded. “This is going to take some time. I know you’re not leaving until it’s done, so I won’t bother suggesting it. You can stand in Observation, or be more comfortable and watch from one of the monitors.”

“I like Observation.”

“Okay then. I’m going to have him brought up, so go pick your spot. I need to talk to Peabody.”

She headed toward the bullpen. It was buzzing, and as she stepped inside, applause broke out. Eve held up a hand. “Save it,” she ordered. “It’s not done yet. Peabody.”

Peabody shoved up from her desk, turned, and took a quick bow before going out after Eve. “We’re pumped.”

“Yeah, I know. Peabody, I have to ask you for a solid.”

“Sure.”

“You earned a turn in Interview with this bastard, and you’re secondary on the investigation. It’s your right. I need to ask you to step aside for Feeney on this.”

“Can I stand in Observation and give Lowell the finger?”

“Absolutely. I owe you.”

“No. Not on this one. Nobody owes anybody on this one.”

“Okay. Bring him up for us, will you? Interview A.”

“Oh, my sincere pleasure. Dallas? I’ve just gotta dance.” And she did so, a kind of tap/shuffle as she walked away.

Eve went into her office, tagged Feeney. “Interview A, he’s coming up.”

“Burn his ass.”

“Then get yours down here and help me fry him, ace.”

“Peabody-”

“Is observing, like half the cops in this place. Come on, Feeney, this one’s ours. Let’s wrap it up.”

“I’m on my way.”

W hen it was time, she walked into Interview A with Feeney. Lowell sat quietly alone, an ordinary-looking man past middle age with a pleasant if somewhat quizzical smile on his face.

“Lieutenant Dallas, this is very unexpected.”

“Record on, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Feeney, Captain Ryan, in interview with subject Lowell, Robert.” She fed in the case numbers-all of them, then read off the Revised Miranda. “Robert Lowell do you understand your rights and obligations in this matter?”

“Of course. You were very clear.”

“You understand you’re being charged with the abductions, assaults, forced imprisonments, and murders of six women, the abduction and forced imprisonment of Ariel Greenfeld, and will subsequently be questioned by Global authorities on the abductions, assaults, illegal captivity, and murders of others.”

“Yes, I do.” He continued to smile genially, folded his plump hands. “Should we save time by my acknowledging all those charges. Confessing to them? Or would that be anticlimactic?”

“You’re awful damn chipper,” Feeney commented, “for a man who’s going to spend the rest of his miserable, murdering life in a cement cage.”

“Well, actually, I won’t be. I will be quietly ending my time within the next twenty-four hours as per my requested and granted self-termination contract. It will stand,” he said pleasantly, “as my doctors have certified my terminal condition and my application. My lawyers have assured me that the certification will override even criminal charges. Neither the State nor Global will supersede an individual’s right to die. And, of course, it saves considerable expense. So…” He lifted his shoulders.

“You think you can get off, get out, by swallowing a few pills?” Feeney demanded.

“Indeed I do. It’s not what I hoped for, believe me. I haven’t finished my work, not completely. You were to be my ultimate,” he said to Eve. “The culmination of everything. When you were finished, then I would have approached my own death with all fully realized. Still, I have accomplished a great deal.”

“Well.” Eve leaned back in her chair, nodded. “You sure covered the bases. I have to say-Bob-you thought of everything. I admire that. It’s not nearly as satisfying to pull in a sloppy killer.”

“Order is one of my bywords.”

“Yeah, I noticed. I appreciate you saving us time by being willing to confess to everything, but after all the work we put in, we’d really like the details. You could call it our culmination. So…this is going to take a while,” she said with an easy smile. “You want something to drink? I’m still a little off from the tranq you got into me. I’m going to go get myself some cold caffeine. You want?”

“That’s very nice of you. I wouldn’t mind a soft drink.”

“You got it. Feeney, why don’t you step out while I hit Vending. Pause record.”

“What the hell,” Feeney began when they were outside Interview.

Everything about her hardened: face, eyes, voice. “I’ve got a way around this. I don’t want you to ask me about it. Ever. When we go back in, we play along. We get the details, and we sew him up. Give me your ’link, will you? I haven’t replaced mine yet. And wait for me.”

She took Feeney’s ’link, wandered down to Vending. And beeped Peabody on privacy mode. “Tell Roarke-quietly-to step out for a minute. Don’t say anything to me. We haven’t spoken.” She clicked off, then stared at the machine.

Moments later, Roarke walked up behind her. “Lieutenant?”

“Get me a Pepsi, a ginger ale, and a cream soda. I need you to make this go away,” she said under her breath. “Can you make his self-termination clearance disappear? No trace of it, anywhere?”

“Yes,” he said simply as he ordered the tubes.

“It crosses the line, what I’m asking you. I gave her my word he’d pay. And in the war room before I came out, I gave them all my word. So I’m crossing the line.”

He retrieved the tubes, passed them to her. His eyes, meeting hers, spoke volumes. “I have to get on,” he said in a clear voice. “I wish I could stay, wait for you, but I’m expecting some calls and transmissions, and you gave Ariel my ’link. I’ll try to come back once I’ve taken care of this. Otherwise, I’ll see you at home.”