Loyalty In Death Part 48

"Transmit that call to Feeney, get him to run a voice check. We need to know if that was Branson on the call." She was moving fast as she snapped out the order. "Contact the guard on Clarissa Branson's room," she continued as they strode down the corridor. "Tell him no one goes in or out of it until we get there."

She pulled out her own communicator as they swung outside into the cold.

"McNab, get down to Mira's. I want Zeke brought back up. Tuck him away until you hear from me."

"Zeke wouldn't know anything about Ca.s.sandra, Dallas. He'd never -- "

Eve spared Peabody a look as she jumped into the car. "Toys and tools, Peabody. I'd say your brother was being used as both."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Clarissa was gone. There was nothing to be gained by berating and browbeating the guard on duty, but Eve did it anyway.

"She looks at him, smiles tearfully, and asks if she can go sit in the gardens."

Eve rolled her eyes and tapped the note Clarissa had left behind in her palm.

"Then she uses the can I have a gla.s.s of water routine she did with Zeke and our boneheaded hero runs off to fetch."

She circled the conference room, waiting for Zeke to be brought in. "Oops, where'd she go? It takes him thirty f.u.c.king minutes to call it in because he's so sure a sweet little thing like her is still around somewhere. But does he check her room? See the tearful good-bye note?"

Eve unfolded it again while Peabody wisely remained silent.

I'm sorry, so sorry, for everything that happened. It was my fault. All of it.

Please forgive me. I'm doing what's best for Zeke. He can't be held responsible. I can never face him again.

"So she leaves him holding the bag. Let's hear it for true love." Though Peabody said nothing, Eve held up her hand and began to go through the steps and stages. "Zeke hears them fighting through the vent in the workroom. It's Branson's house, his workroom. He knows Zeke's down there. According to Clarissa, he was wild to keep anyone from knowing he knocked her around. So why doesn't he fix the d.a.m.n vent? The staff's all droids, so he doesn't worry about them. But he's got a live one now."

"You think he wanted Zeke to hear?"

"Follow along, Peabody. I've been working this out since last night."

"Last night?" Peabody's mouth dropped open. "But, Dallas, there was nothing in the prelim report about -- " She broke off, winced, as Eve shot her a cool stare. "You read my prelim, Officer Peabody?"

"Strap me in irons," Peabody muttered, "and flog me. He's my brother."

"I'll reserve the flogging for a later date. No, I didn't put anything into the prelim because the main concern was getting Zeke's story down and putting him in the clear. But the whole deal screamed setup. Slick, organized, d.a.m.n well-oiled, but a setup."

"I don't see it."

"You can't see past Zeke. Take the steps here. They pull Zeke in from out west. I don't care how good he is, they could've found somebody to do this work without transporting him in. But they pull him, a single guy, a Free-Ager.

Branson kicks his wife to h.e.l.l and back, but he lets her import a young, attractive man into the house. And he's diddling with having carpentry work done when, we suspect, he's laying plans for the biggest terrorist siege on the city since the Urban Wars."

"None of it makes sense."

"Not separately, but it does when you connect the dots. He needed a fall guy." "But, for G.o.d's sake, Dallas, Zeke killed him."

"I don't think so. Why haven't they found the body? Why did this cowed, terrified woman manage to get rid of it in less than five minutes?" "But -- who died?"

"This time around, I don't think anybody did. Toys and tools, Peabody. I've seen several of the prototype droids Roarke's R and D department's got under production. You wouldn't make them at a glance, even a close look."

She glanced around as Zeke came in, followed by Dr. Mira.

"Doctor?"

"Zeke's my patient, and he's under considerable distress." Gently, Mira walked him to a chair. "If you feel it's necessary to interview him, I want to be here."

"Zeke, do you want your lawyer?" Eve asked him, and he only shook his head.

Sympathy threatened to surface. She knew firsthand how miserable Testing could be. She set the recorder, sat across from him. "I just have a few questions. How many times did you meet Branson?"

"I only saw him twice. Once over the 'link and then last night."

"Just once, over a 'link?" But he'd recognized Zeke instantly. Branson had reportedly been stumbling drunk, but he'd tagged Zeke at a glance. "The wh.o.r.e and the handyman," Zeke had quoted him as saying. "So most of your contact was through Clarissa. How much time did you spend together?"

"Not a lot. When she was in Arizona, we talked. We had lunch a couple of times." He looked up quickly. "It was harmless." "What did you talk about?" "Just... things. All sorts of things."

"Did she ask you about yourself?"

"I guess, yeah. She was so relaxed and happy. Not like she is here. She liked hearing about my work, and she was interested in Free-Agism. She said it sounded like such a gentle and kind religion."

"Zeke, did she come onto you?"

"No!" His shoulders straightened. "It was nothing like that. She was married.

I knew she was married. She was just lonely. There was something there."

He said it with a wonder that made Eve's heart sink for him. "Right away, and we both knew it, but we wouldn't have done anything. I didn't know how he treated her, I just knew she was unhappy."

"Last night was the first time you'd actually seen Branson in person. He never came down to the workroom, never called you up to discuss the projects?"

"No, he never came down."

Eve sat back. She was willing to bet Zeke had yet to meet B. Donald Branson in the flesh. "That's all I need for now. Zeke, you're going to have to stay here, in Central."

"In a cell?"

"No. But you have to stay here." "Can I see Clarissa?"

"We'll talk about that later." Eve rose. "The uniform will take you up to the recreation area. There's a sleeping bin off the side. I think you should tranq up and use it."

"I don't use tranqs."

"Me, either." She softened enough to smile at him. "Use the bin anyway. Get some rest."

"Zeke." There was so much Peabody wanted to say, wanted to do, but she held it in and looked at him soberly. "You can trust Dallas."

"I'll be up in a minute." Mira patted his arm. "We'll use meditation." She waited until the uniform came to take him out. "My testing is complete enough for me to give you an evaluation."

"I don't need it." Eve cut her off. "It's for the record, not for me. He's not going to be charged."

Mira relaxed fractionally. In the last two hours, Zeke had slipped past her professional veneer. "He's suffering. The idea that he took a life, however accidentally -- "

"It wasn't an accident," Eve corrected. "It was a setup. If I'm on target, B.

Donald Branson's very much alive, and most likely with his wife. I can't get into the details, I don't have time," she continued. "You looked at Clarissa's statement, you viewed the recording."

"Yes. It's a cla.s.sic case of abuse and shattered self-esteem."

"Cla.s.sic," Eve agreed with a nod. "Like textbook. Like line for line out of a case study. She didn't miss a trick, did she?" "I don't know what you mean."

"No friends, no family support. Delicate, helpless woman dominated by an older, stronger man. He drinks, he beats her. He rapes her. She sticks.