The In Death Collection Books 6-10 - J. D. Robb [3]
“Nice, quick work on Bonning, Dallas.”
“The man’s got a brain the size of a pistachio. Tossed his partner out the window because they got into a fight over who owed who a stinking twenty credits. And he’s trying to tell me he was defending himself, in fear for his life. The guy he tossed was a hundred pounds lighter and six inches shorter. Asshole,” she said with a resigned sigh. “You’d have thought Boner would have cooked up the guy had a knife or swung a bat at him.”
She sat back, circled her neck, surprised and pleased that there was barely any tension to be willed away. “They should all be this easy.”
She listened with half an ear to the hum and rumble of the early air traffic outside her window. One of the commuter trams was blasting out its spiel on economical rates and convenience.
“Weekly, monthly, yearly terms available! Sign on to EZ TRAM, your friendly and reliable air transport service. Begin and end your work day in style.”
If you like the packed-in-like-sweaty-sardines style, Eve thought. With the chilly November rain that had been falling all day, she imagined both air and street snarls would be hideous. The perfect end to the day.
“That wraps it,” she said and grabbed her battered leather jacket. “I’m clocking out—on time for a change. Any hot plans for the weekend, Peabody?”
“My usual, flicking off men like flies, breaking hearts, crushing souls.”
Eve shot a quick grin at her aide’s sober face. The sturdy Peabody, she thought—a cop from the crown of her dark bowl-cut hair to her shiny regulation shoes. “You’re such a wild woman, Peabody. I don’t know how you keep up the pace.”
“Yeah, that’s me, queen of the party girls.” With a dry smile, Peabody reached for the door just as Eve’s tele-link beeped. Both of them scowled at the unit. “Thirty seconds and we’d have been on the skywalk down.”
“Probably just Roarke calling to remind me we’ve got this dinner party deal tonight.” Eve flicked the unit on. “Homicide, Dallas.”
The screen swam with colors, dark, ugly, clashing colors. Music, low octave, slow paced, crept out of the speaker. Automatically, Eve tapped the command for trace, watched the Unable to Comply message scroll across the bottom of the screen.
Peabody whipped out her porta-link, stepping aside to contact Central Control as the caller spoke.
“You’re supposed to be the best the city has to offer, Lieutenant Dallas. Just how good are you?”
“Unidentified contact and/or jammed transmissions to police officers are illegal. I’m obliged to caution you that this transmission is being traced through CompuGuard, and it’s being recorded.”
“I’m aware of that. Since I’ve just committed what worldly society would consider first-degree murder, I’m not overly concerned about minor nuisances like electronic violations. I’ve been blessed by the Lord.”
“Oh yeah?” Terrific, she thought, just what she needed.
“I have been called on to do His work, and have washed myself in the blood of His enemy.”
“Does He have a lot of them? I mean, you’d think He’d just, what, smite them down Himself instead of enlisting you to do the dirty work.”
There was a pause, a long one, in which only the dirge played through. “I have to expect you to be flippant.” The voice was harder now, and edgier. Temper barely suppressed. “As one of the godless, how could you understand divine retribution? I’ll put this on your level. A riddle. Do you enjoy riddles, Lieutenant Dallas?”
“No.” She slid her gaze toward Peabody, got a quick, frustrated head shake. “But I bet you do.”
“They relax the mind and soothe the spirit. The name of this little riddle is Revenge. You’ll find the first son of the old sod in the lap of luxury, atop his silver tower where the river runs dark below and water falls from a great height. He begged for his life, and then for his death. Never repenting his great sin, he is already damned.”
“Why did you kill him?”
“Because this is the task I was born for,”
“God told you that you were born to kill?” Eve pushed for trace again, fought with frustration. “How’d He let you