The in Death Collection Books 11-15 - J. D. Robb [114]
“I don’t have time for this. Goddamn politics. I don’t have time to go running up to Tibble and giving him updates he can pass to the media.”
“Dallas, you to up to The Towers. I’ll finish the run for you,” Peabody said.
Eve wanted to do the run herself. It was personal. And that was the whole damn problem, she admitted. She’d let it get personal. “Vernon’s due in an hour. If he’s thirty seconds late, send uniforms, have him picked up. Familiarize yourself with his profile,” she added as she grabbed her jacket. “Contact Feeney. I want him and McNab in on the interview. I want the room full of cops.”
She hesitated, looked back at the computer. No point in wasting time, she reminded herself. No point in it. “Add the data I’m compiling to the file, and run a probability on our three homicides.”
“Yes, sir. On who?”
“You’ll know,” Eve said as she stalked out. “If you don’t, you’re in the wrong business.”
“I live for pressure,” Peabody muttered and sat down.
She was going to make it short, Eve told herself. And she was going to make it direct. Tibble might have to be concerned about departmental image, about politics, about the drooling and slathering in IAB, but she didn’t.
She had one job, and that was to close her case.
She wasn’t going to sit still for having to squeeze another damn press conference into her schedule. And if he thought he could yank her off the investigation to make the proper noises to the media, he could just . . .
Oh boy.
It wouldn’t help matters for her to march into Tibble’s office leading with attitude. Any more, she thought, than this underlying pity would help if her suspicions regarding the killer’s identity proved out.
Her job was to close the case. And the dead, whoever they were, deserved her best.
As for Ricker, she intended to close that circle as well.
Tibble didn’t keep her waiting. That surprised her a little. But it was nothing compared to the jolt she got when she stepped into his office and saw Roarke sitting there, cooleyed and comfortable.
“Lieutenant.” From his desk, Tibble gestured her inside. “Have a seat. You’ve had a long night,” he added. His face was calm, blank. As was that of her commander who sat with his hands on his thighs.
It was, Eve thought, like coming in late to a high-stakes poker game. And she didn’t know the price of the damn ante.
“Sir. The preliminary report on Bayliss has already been updated with initial lab reports.” She glanced meaningfully toward Roarke. “I am unable to specify regarding the evidence in the presence of a civilian.”
“The civilian came in handy last night,” Tibble said.
“Yes, sir.” She, too, knew how to hold her cards close, and merely nodded. “It was vital to arrange the fastest transportation to Bayliss’s weekend home.”
“Not quite fast enough.”
“No, sir.”
“That wasn’t a criticism, Lieutenant. Your instincts regarding Captain Bayliss were correct. If you hadn’t followed them as you did, we might still, at this point, be unaware of his murder. As I admire your instincts, Lieutenant, I’m about to follow them myself. I’ve made Roarke a temporary civilian attaché as regards the investigation of Max Ricker, concurrent with your investigation of these homicides.”
“Chief Tibble—”
“You have an objection, Lieutenant?” Tibble spoke smoothly. If her head hadn’t been busy exploding, she might have heard the whiff of humor in the tone.
“A number of them, beginning with the fact that the Ricker matter is not priority. I am on the point of analyzing new evidence and data that I believe will lead to an arrest in the matter of my current investigation. The connection to Ricker exists,” she continued, “is key, but it has no bearing on these leads or on the anticipated arrest. The connection is, I believe more emotional than tangible. Therefore, the pursuit of Ricker is secondary, and it is my belief that this pursuit can and will be continued subsequent to interview with the suspect in the homicides. I request that any steps in the Ricker area be postponed until my current case is closed.”
Tibble watched her. “You’re now