“Ow.”
“Fucking A,” Baxter agreed, and took a long gulp. “Guy bled out before the MTs got there. Damn ugly mess, let me tell you. And the guy's dick? She'd stuffed it in the recycler, just to make sure it didn't get in any more trouble.”
“Pays to be thorough.”
“You women are cold and terrifying creatures. This one? She's damn proud of it. Says she's going to be a hero to neofems throughout our fair land. Maybe so.”
“You got that closed. Anything else hot?”
“We don't have any more actives than we can handle right now.”
“Anything you don't feel comfortable passing on?”
“You want me to dump my caseloads on somebody else. I'm your boy.”
“I want you and Trueheart on witness duty. My residence.”
“When?”
“Now.”
“I'll get my boy. They did two kids?” His face sobered as they walked toward the bull pen. “Did them while they slept?”
“It'd have been worse if they'd been awake. You and Trueheart are baby-sitting the eyewitness. Nine-year-old female. Keep it off the log for now. I still have to report to Whitney.”
She moved through the bull pen, then into the glorified closet that was her office.
As predicted, Nadine Furst, Channel 75's on-air ace, sat in Eve's ratty desk chair. She was perfectly groomed, her streaky blonde hair swept back from her foxy face. Her jacket and pants were the color of ripe pumpkin, with a stark white shirt beneath that somehow made the whole getup more female.
She stopped recording notes into her memo book when Eve walked in. “Don't hurt me. I saved you a cookie.”
Saying nothing, Eve jerked a thumb, then took the chair Nadine vacated. When the silence went on, Nadine cocked her head. “Don't I get a lecture? Aren't you going to yell at me? Don't you want your cookie?”
“I just came from the morgue. There's a little girl on a slab. Her throat's cut from here, to about here.” Eve tapped a finger on both sides of her own throat.
“I know.” Nadine sat in the single visitor's chair. “Or I know some of it. A whole family, Dallas. However hard-shelled you and I might be, that gets through. And with a home invasion like this, the public needs some of the details, so they can protect themselves.”
Eve said nothing, just lifted her eyebrows.
“That's part of it,” Nadine insisted. “I'm not saying ratings aren't involved, or I don't want my journalistic teeth in something this juicy. But the sanctity of the home should mean something. Keeping your kids safe matters.”
“See the media liaison.”
“The ML doesn't have squat.”
“Should tell you something, Nadine.” Eve lifted a hand before Nadine could sound off. “What I've got at this point isn't going to help the public, and I'm not inclined to give you the inside edge. Unless…”
Nadine settled back, crossed her exceptional legs. “Name the terms.”
Eve stretched out, flipping the door shut, then turned around in her chair so that she and Nadine were face-to-face. “You know how to slant reports, how to spin stories to influence the public who you love to claim has a right to know.”
“Excuse me, objective reporter.”
“Bullshit. The media's no more objective than the last ratings term. You want details, you want the inside track, one-on-ones, and your other items on your reporter's checklist? I'll feed you. And when this goes down and I get them-and I will get them-I want you to bloody them in the media. I want you to skew the stories so these fuckers are the monsters the villagers go after with axes and torches.”
“You want them tried in the press.”
“No.” It wasn't a smile that moved over Eve's face. Nothing that feral could be called a smile. “I want them hanged by it. You're my secondary line, if the system gives them a loophole even an anorectic bloodworm has trouble wiggling through. Yes or no.”
“Yes. Was there sexual assault on any or all of the victims?”
“None.”
“Torture? Mutilation?”
“No. Straight kills. Clean.”
“Professional?”
“Possibly. Two killers.”
“Two?” The excitement of the hunt flushed onto Nadine's cheek. “How do you know?”
“I get paid to know. Two,” Eve repeated. “No vandalism, destruction of property, no burglary that can be determined at this time. And at this time, it is the opinion of the primary investigator that the family in question was target specific. I've got a report to write, and I have to speak to my commander. I'm cooking on three hours' sleep. Go away, Nadine.”
“Suspects, leads?”
“At this time we are pursuing any and all blah, blah, blah. You know the drill. Disappear now.”
Nadine rose. “Watch my evening report. I'll start bloodying them now.”
“Good. And Nadine?” Eve said as Nadine opened the office door. “Thanks for the cookie.”
She set up her office case board, wrote her report, read those submitted by EDD and Crime Scene. She drank more coffee, then closed her eyes and went through the scene, yet again, in her mind.
“Computer. Probability run, multiple homicides, case file H-226989SD,” Eve ordered.
Acknowledged.
“Probability, given known data, that the killers were known by one or more of the victims.”
Working… Probability is 88.32 percent that one or more of the victims knew one or more of the killers.
“Probability that the killers were professional assassins.”
Working… Probability is 96.93 percent that the killers were professional and/or trained.
“Yeah, I'm with you there. Probability that killers were hired or assigned to assassinate victims by another source.”
Working… Wholly speculative inquiry with insufficient data to project.
“Let's try this. Given current known data on all victims, what is the probability any or all would be marked for professional assassination?”
Working… 100 percent probability as victims have been assassinated.
“Work with me here, you moron. Speculation. Victims have not yet been assassinated. Given current known data-deleting any data after midnight-what is the probability any or all members of the Swisher household would be marked for professional assassination?”
Working… Probability is less than five percent, and therefore these subjects would not be so marked.
“Yeah, my take, too. So what don't we know about this nice family?” She swiveled around to the board. “Because you're dead, aren't you?” She shoved another disc in the data slot. “Computer, do a sort and run on subsequent data pertaining to Swisher, Grant, client list. Follow with sort and run on Swisher, Keelie, client list. Highlight any and all subjects with criminal or psych evals, highlight all with military or paramilitary training. Copy results to my home unit when complete.”
Acknowledged. Working…
“Yeah, you keep doing that.” She rose, walked out.
“ Peabody.” She gave a come-ahead that hadPeabody pushing back from her desk in the bull pen.
“I've got a complaint. How come Baxter and most of the other guys always get the good bribes? How come being your partner means I get shafted on the goodies?”
“Price you pay. We're heading to Whitney. Do you have anything new I should know about before we report?”
“I talked with McNab. Purely professional,” Peabody added quickly. “We hardly made any kissy noises. Feeney put him on the household 'links and d and c's, and Grant Swisher's units from his office. He's running all transmissions from the last thirty days. So far, nothing pops. Did you see the sweepers' report?”
“Yeah. Nothing. Not a skin cell, not a follicle.”