The in Death Collection Books 11-15 - J. D. Robb [628]
“That’s interesting, Peabody.”
“Well, you know. Testosterone.”
“Yeah, I know. In these cases, the two males—three counting Halloway—tried to beat the pain and anyone who got in the way. And the female tried to suppress it with traditional methods. Everybody failed, everybody died. And here’s what else everyone did. Burrowed.”
“Burrowed, sir?”
“Holed up. Climbed into their nest, or the closest thing to it. Cogburn was locked in his apartment. Maybe if his neighbor hadn’t come along, hammering at the door, shouting, cursing at him, he’d have stayed there until he died, or until he killed himself.”
She studied the messy, makeshift noose. “Terminate and end the pain. I bet it’s programmed into the virus. Fitzhugh, holed up, self-terminated. Halloway, the only one who wasn’t a target, the only one who was exposed outside of his own home, burrowed into Feeney’s office. If we hadn’t kept him busy, I think he’d have offed Feeney, then turned the stream on himself.”
“Cogburn and Halloway.” Peabody nodded, following the dots. “They were the only two who had contact with anyone during the last stages of the infection. If they hadn’t . . .”
“Would they have just opted out, like Mary Ellen George? Shuts herself in, blocks her incomings, ignores anyone who comes to the door. Terminates.”
“Wounded animal instinct? The burrowing,” Peabody asked.
“Human nature. It’s logical. And it makes sense for Purity. They don’t want to take out the innocent, just the ones they’ve judged guilty. They’re looking for minimum negative fallout. They want public support for their cause. Even with the incidental casualties, they’re starting to get it.”
“They won’t keep it. No, Dallas, they won’t. I’m not going to believe most people really want something like this.” She gestured toward the body.
“We had legal executions for what, over two hundred years in the grand old U.S. of A.,” Eve reminded her. “Illegal ones have been going on since Cain bashed Abel. Under the polish, Peabody, we’re still a primitive species. A violent one.”
She thought of Roarke. And sighed. “Turn her over to the ME. Open the scene to the sweepers. I’ll be talking to Hippel.”
She turned on her own recorder as she walked into the small, cheerful office space off the living area. Officer Baker stood on post while a young black male with a muscular build sat with his head down and his hands dangling between his knees.
Eve wagged a thumb at the doorway, and Baker stepped out.
“Mr. Hippel?”
He lifted his head. His skin was a rich chocolate just now faintly tinged with the green of nausea.
“I’ve never seen . . . I’ve never . . . It’s the first . . .”
“Do you want some water, Mr. Hippel?”
“No, I . . . The officer got me a glass. My insides are too shaky to drink.”
“I need to ask you some questions. I’m Lieutenant Dallas.”
“Yeah. I saw you on-screen doing that deal with Nadine Furst.” He tried to get his lips to curve up, but they just trembled. “She’s hot. I always try to catch her segments.”
“She’ll be thrilled to hear that.” Eve sat down on a small, tufted chair. “Ms. George contacted you.”
“Yeah. I hadn’t heard from her in a couple weeks. We broke things off. Mutual,” he said quickly. “We didn’t fight or anything. Just time to move on, that’s all. Okay, maybe she was a little steamed. Maybe I wanted to move on more than she did, but we didn’t fight. Okay, maybe we had an argument.”
He choked on his own guilt, spit out information while Eve sat in silence and let him run through it. “Maybe we yelled at each other some. Jesus, Jesus, she didn’t do that because I dumped her, did she?”
“When did the dumping take place, Jay?”
“Maybe two weeks ago. It’d been coming on. I mean, hey, she’s a fine-looking, sexy lady and all. Plenty of coin, too. But I’m twenty-four, and she’s not. Guy needs a piece or two his own age once in a while, right? Only natural. And Mary Ellen, she was getting a little territorial. Crimping my style, got me?”
“Yeah. The last time