In Death 02 - Glory in Death

turned them facedown when the door opened.
    Nadine didn't look polished now. The professional gloss of the on-air personality had given way to a pale, shaken woman with swollen eyes and a trembling mouth. Saying nothing, Eve gestured to the chair and poured water in a fresh glass.
    "You were quick," she said coolly, "getting your report on the air."
    "That's my job." Nadine didn't touch the glass, but gripped her hands in her lap. "You do yours, I do mine."
    "Right. Just serving the public, aren't we?"
    "I'm not very interested in what you think of me right now, Dallas."
    "Just as well, because I don't think very much of you right now." For the second time, she started the recorder, fed in the necessary information. "When did you last see Louise Kirski alive?"
    "We were working in Editing, refining and timing a piece for the midnight spot. It didn't take as much time as we'd scheduled to finish. Louise was good, really good." Nadine drew a deep breath and continued to stare at a spot an inch above Eve's left shoulder. "We talked for a few minutes. She and the man she'd been seeing for the last several months were looking for an apartment together. She was happy. Louise was a happy person, easy to get along with, bright."
    She had to stop again, had to. Her breath was backing up. Carefully, firmly, she ordered herself to inhale, exhale. Twice. "Anyway, she was out of cigarettes. She liked to catch a quick smoke between assignments. Everybody looked the other way, even though she'd sneak off into a closet somewhere and light up. I told her to pick me up a couple while she was at it, gave her some credits. We went down together, and I got off at the newsroom. I had some calls to make. Otherwise, I'd have gone with her. I'd have been with her."
    "Did you usually go out together before the broadcast?"
    "No. Normally, I take a short break, head out, have a quiet cup of coffee in this little cafe on Third. I like to -- get away from the station, especially before the midnight. We've got a restaurant, lounges, a coffee shop in house, but I like to break off and take ten on my own."
    "Habitually?"
    "Yeah." Nadine met Eve's eyes, veered away. "Habitually. But I wanted to make those calls, and it was raining, so... so I didn't go. I lent her my raincoat, and she went out." Her eyes shifted back, straight to Eve's. And were devastated. "She's dead instead of me. You know that, and I know that. Don't we, Dallas?"
    "I recognized your coat," Eve said briefly. "I thought it was you."
    "She didn't do anything but run out for a few cigarettes. Wrong place, wrong time. Wrong coat."
    Wrong bait, Eve thought, but didn't say it. "Let's take this a step at a time, Nadine. An editor has a certain amount of power, of control."
    "No." Slowly, methodically, Nadine shook her head. The sickness in her stomach had snuck into her throat, and tasted foul. "It's the story, Dallas, and the on-air personality. Nobody appreciates, or even thinks of an editor but the reporter. She wasn't the target, Dallas. Let's not pretend otherwise."
    "What I think and what I know are handled in different ways, Nadine. But let's go with what I think for now. I think you were the target, and I think the killer mistook Louise for you. You've got different builds, but it was raining, she was wearing your coat, had the hood on. There either wasn't time, or there wasn't a choice once the mistake was realized."
    "What?" Dazed at having it all said so flatly, Nadine struggled to focus. "What did you say?"
    "It was over quickly. I've got the time she left from the security desk. She waved to the guard. We've got Morse stumbling over her ten minutes later. Either it was timed extremely well, or our killer was cocky. And you can bet your ass he wanted to see it on the news before she'd gotten cold."
    "We accommodated him, didn't we?"
    "Yeah." Eve nodded. "You did."
    "You think it was easy for me?" Nadine's voice, raspy and thick, burst out. "You think it was easy to sit there and give a report knowing she was still lying outside?"
    "I don't know," Eve said mildly. "Was it?"
    "She was my friend." Nadine began to weep, tears rushing out, pouring down her cheeks and leaving trails in her camera makeup. "I cared about her. Damn it, she mattered to me, not just a story. She isn't just a fucking story."
    Struggling to carry her own guilt, Eve nudged the glass toward Nadine. "Drink," she ordered. "Take a minute."
    Nadine had to use both hands to keep the glass even partially steady.