In Death 06 - Vengeance in Death

skillfully, and without breaking a sweat.
    She knew damn well reporters could smell sweat.
    "Lieutenant Dallas, as primary investigator, have you questioned Roarke in connection with these murders?"
    "Roarke has cooperated with the department."
    "Was his cooperation elicited by the primary, or by his wife?"
    Snake-eyed, flat-faced son of a bitch, Eve thought, staring the reporter down and ignoring the autotronic cameras that slid spiderlike in her direction. "Roarke volunteered his statements and his assistance from the initiation of this investigation."
    "Isn't it true that your prime suspect is in Roarke's employ and resides in your home?"
    "At this point in the investigation we have no prime suspect." That brought on the growl from the wolf pack, the shouted questions, the demands. She waited them out. "Lawrence Charles Summerset was interviewed formally and has voluntarily undergone testing. As a result of this, the department and the primary are now pursuing other investigative channels."
    "What is your response to the supposition that Summerset murdered three people on orders from his employer?"
    The shouted question from the back had the effect of smothering the shouts. For the first time in nearly an hour, there was silence. Even as Chief Tibble stepped forward, Eve held up a hand. "I'd like to answer that." Fury might have clawed at her throat, but her voice was cold and level. "My response is that suppositions of that nature have no place in this forum. They belong in tiny rooms where they can be discussed by tiny minds. Such a supposition when voiced publicly, particularly by a member of the media, falls into the category of criminal negligence. Such an innuendo, with no facts or evidence to support it, is an insult not only to the men involved, but to the dead. I have nothing more to say here."
    She stepped around Tibble and off the platform. She could hear the questions being shouted out at him, and his calm, reasonable voice answering. But she had blood in her eye and a bitter taste in her mouth.
    "Dallas! Dallas, hold on." Nadine Furst rushed after her, her camera operator in hot pursuit. "Give me two minutes, come on. Two lousy minutes."
    Eve turned on her, knowing that it would be a miracle if she held on to her temper for two seconds. "Don't get in my face here, Nadine."
    "Look, that last one was over the line, no question. But you've got to expect to take some heat here."
    "I can handle heat. I don't see why I have to handle morons, too."
    "I'm with you there."
    "Are you?" Out of the corner of her eye, Eve noted that the camera operator was recording.
    "Let me help you out here." Instinctively Nadine smoothed down her hair, hitched her jacket into a perfect line. "Give me a statement, a quick one-on-one to balance things out."
    "Give you a ninety-second exclusive, you mean, and bump your rating points. Jesus." Eve turned away before she could do or say something regrettable.
    Then Mira's words came back to her. The massive and fragile ego of the murderer. His focus on her -- the need for female approval. She wasn't certain if it was impulse or instinct, but she went with it.
    She'd give Nadine her ratings boost, all right. And she'd take a nice hard slap at the killer. One she hoped he'd feel honor bound to try to return.
    "Who the hell do you people think you are?" She whirled back, let her temper boil over. She had no doubt it would show, in her face, in her clenched fists. "Using your First Amendment rights, your public's right to know, to interfere with a murder investigation."
    "Wait just a minute."
    "No, you wait." Eve jabbed a finger into Nadine's shoulder, knocking her back a step. "Three people are dead, children are orphaned, a woman is widowed, and all because some self-absorbed piece of shit with a God complex decided to play games. There's your story, pal. Some asshole who thinks Jesus speaks to him is playing the media like a damn banjo. The more air time you give him, the happier he is. He wants us to believe he has a higher purpose, but all he really wants is to win. And he won't. He won't because I'm better than he is. This jerk's an amateur who had a short run of luck. As long as he keeps screwing up I'll have him caged in a week."
    "And you'll stand by that, Lieutenant Dallas," Nadine said coldly. "You'll apprehend the killer within a week."
    "You can count on it. He's not the smartest I've gone after, he's not even the most pathetic. He's just one more tiny pimple on society's