The In Death Collection Books 6-10 - J. D. Robb [130]
“You bet.”
“Let’s go, Peabody.”
“Are we going to interview Mary Calhoun?”
“Soon enough. Right now we’re going to give A. A. Dillard his fucking pink slip.”
A. A. had missed his shift. It was the first such incident, she was told by Nibb, the department manager. A. A. was a model employee, prompt, efficient, cooperative, and creative.
“I need to see all his files, personnel, works completed, works in progress, status reports, the whole shot.”
Nibb—who wasn’t quite old enough to have known A. G. Bell, but who had celebrated his centennial the past summer, crossed his arms. Behind a thick white moustache, his mouth went hard.
“A great deal of those records include confidential material. Research and development in the electronics field is highly competitive. Cutthroat. One leak and—”
“This is a murder investigation, Nibb. And I’m hardly going to sell data to my husband’s competitors.”
“Nonetheless, Lieutenant, I can’t give you files on works in progress without the boss’s personal consent.”
“You have it,” Roarke said as he walked up.
“What are you doing here?” Eve demanded.
“Following my nose—correctly, I see. Nibb, get the lieutenant everything she requested,” he added, then drew Eve aside. “I reviewed the recording of the dustup in the lobby of the Arms again, then ran it through an analysis procedure we’re working on here. Not to be technical, it assessed angles, distances, and so forth. The probability quotient that the killer was focused on McNab rather than the cop outside was very high.”
“So you asked yourself who might be connected to you, on some level, who would make McNab as a cop.”
“And the answer was someone in this department. I’ve just run a personnel scan. A. A. most closely fits the physical description.”
“You’d make a halfway decent cop.”
“I see no reason to insult me. I’d just accessed A. A.’s home address when the word came through we had cops sniffing. I assume our noses had caught the same scent.”
“What’s the address? I want some uniforms to pick him up.”
“Saint Patrick’s Cathedral. I doubt you’ll find him nibbling his lunch there.”
“That’s sloppy of your personnel department, Roarke.”
His smile was not amused. “Believe me, they’ll be so informed. What have you got?”
“He’s Liam Calhoun, the son. And I’ve got his queen, Roarke. I’ve got his mama.” She filled him in, watching as his eyes grew darker, colder. “Feeney and McNab are working on the equipment we found in Audrey’s apartment. And they’ll analyze the bugs we took from Summerset’s quarters. Where is he now? Summerset.”
“Home. Bail was set and paid.” His jaw set. “They put a bracelet on him.”
“The charges will be dropped—and it’ll come off. I’ll take care of it as soon as I get to Central. Whitney’s meeting me to observe the interview with the mother.”
“I believe you’ll find we manufacture the bugs here, and we’re testing a new shield coat that protects them from detection from currently marketed scanners. I’ve been bankrolling his game all along. Wonderfully ironic.”
“We’ve got him pinned, Roarke. Even if he’s been tipped somehow and he’s running, we’ll have him. We’ve got his mother. Every indication is he can’t and won’t function without her. He’ll stay close. I’ll take the data from here back to Central and key it in under my name and Feeney’s only. You have a right to that protection under the law.” She blew out a breath. “I’m going straight into Interview, and odds are it’s going to be a long haul. I’ll be home late.”
“Obviously I have quite a bit of work to do here. I’ll probably be later. I spoke to the head of Pat Murray’s medical team. He’s regained consciousness. At this point he isn’t able to speak or move his legs, but they believe with proper treatment, he’ll make a full recovery.”
She knew Roarke would be paying for that proper treatment, and touched his arm briefly. “I’ve got two uniforms on his room. I’ll get over there myself tomorrow.”
“We’ll go.” He spotted Nibb bringing a box of disc files. “Good hunting, Lieutenant.”
In hour five of the interview