In Death 04 - Rapture in Death

shrugged his shoulders, drummed his fingers over the top of the hand-tooled boot he'd cocked on his knee. "I don't remember any autotronics tech by that name."
    She decided to change tacks. "How much work have you done on individualized subliminals?"
    "I don't know what you're talking about."
    "You don't understand the term?"
    "I know what it means." This time his shrug was jerky. "And as far as I know, it's never been done, so I don't know what you're asking me."
    Eve took a chance. She looked over at her aide. "Do you know what I'm asking him, Peabody?"
    "I think it's clear enough, Lieutenant." She was struggling through the mud of confusion. "You'd like to know how much work the interview subject has done on individualized subliminals. Perhaps the interview subject should be reminded that it is not currently illegal to research or have an interest in this area. Only development and implementation are against current state, federal, and international laws."
    "Very good, Peabody. Does that help clear things up for you, Jess?"
    The byplay had given him enough time to settle. "Sure, I'm interested in the area. Lots of people are."
    "It's a little out of your field, isn't it? You're just a musician, not a licensed scientist."
    It was exactly the right button. His sat up in his chair, his eyes flashing once. "I'm fully certified in Musicology. Music isn't just a bunch of notes strung together, sweetheart. It's life. It's memory. Songs trigger specific and often predictable emotional reactions. Music's an expression of emotion, desires."
    "And here I thought it was just a nice way to pass the time."
    "Entertainment is only a slice of the pie. The Celts went to war with bagpipes. They were as much a weapon to them as a broadax. Warring natives in Africa psyched themselves up with drums. Slaves survived on their spirituals, and men have been seducing women to music for centuries. Music plays the mind."
    "Which brings us back to the question. When did you decide to take it a step further and tie in to individual brain patterns? Did you just stumble across it, sort of blind luck, while you were noodling out a tune?"
    He gave a short laugh. "You really think what I do is just a slide, don't you? Just sit down, punch in some notes, and go. It's work. It's hard, demanding work."
    "And you're damned proud of your work, aren't you? Come on, Jess, you wanted to tell me earlier." Eve rose, came around the desk to sit on the front edge. "You've been dying to tell me. To tell someone. What good is it, what satisfaction is there in creating something so amazing, then having to keep it to yourself?"
    He picked up his glass again, ran his fingers down the long, slim stem. "This isn't exactly the way I'd pictured this." He took a sip, considered the consequences -- and the rewards. "Mavis says you can be flexible. It's not just code books and procedure with you."
    "Oh, I can be flexible, Jess." When it's warranted. "Talk to me."
    "Well, let's just say that if -- hypothetically -- I had worked out a technique for individualized subs, mood enhancements on a personal brain pattern, it could be big. People like Roarke and you, with your contacts and financial base, your influence, let's say, could work around a few antiquated laws and make a big pile. Revolutionize the personal entertainment and enhancement industry while you were at it."
    "Is this a business offer?"
    "Hypothetically," he said and gestured with his glass. "Roarke industries has the R and D, the facilities, the man power, and the credits to take something like this and run with it. And a smart cop, seems to me, could find a way to bend the law, just enough, to make it go down smooth."
    "Gosh, Lieutenant," Peabody said with a smile that didn't touch her eyes. "Sounds like you and Roarke are the perfect couple. Hypothetically."
    "And Mavis as the conduit," Eve murmured.
    "Hey, Mavis is chilled. She got what she wanted. After tonight, she's going to cruise."
    "And you figure that evens out using her to get to Roarke."
    He moved a shoulder again. "Backs gotta be scratched, honey. I gave hers a real full treatment." The wicked amusement flashed into his eyes again. "Did you enjoy the informal demonstration of my hypothetical system?"
    Not certain even her training could keep the fury off her face, she turned, slipped back behind the desk. "Demonstration?"
    "The night you and Roarke came by the studio to watch the session. Seemed to me you two were pretty eager to leave, to be