In Death 07 - Holiday in Death

cosmetics and enhancements figure into a..." His eyes went wide and bright. "Poison? Was it poison? Someone added poison to the lip dyes. The victim prepared herself for a glorious night on the town -- perhaps she used Radical Red, or no, no, Bombshell Bronze, then -- "
    "Get a grip on yourself, Simon."
    His lashes fluttered, his color went bright, then he chuckled warmly. "I should be spanked." Without glancing over, he scooped a tall, slim glass of pale yellow liquid from the serving droid that zipped to his chair. "Of course, we'll cooperate, Lieutenant, in any way we can. I should warn you that our client list is quite extensive. If you could give me specific products, we could whittle it down considerably."
    "Give me the whole shot for now, then I'll see what I can do."
    "At your command." He rose, bowed, then waltzed behind the console. "Yvette, give dear Lieutenant Dallas some samples while I perform this little task for her. There's a lamb."
    "I don't need any samples." Eve smiled thinly at Yvette. "But I want the scent we were talking about."
    "Absolutely." The receptionist nearly knelt at Eve's feet. "Would this be for yourself?"
    "No, it's a gift."
    "And a very thoughtful one." Yvette took a personal palm computer out of her pocket. "Male or female?"
    "Female."
    "Could you give me three of her strongest personality traits? As in bold or shy or romantic."
    "Intelligent," Eve said, thinking of Dr. Mira. "Compassionate. Thorough."
    "Very good. Now something of the physical?"
    "Medium height, slender, brown hair, blue eyes, light complexion."
    "That's very nice," Yvette said. For a police report, she thought in disgust. "What color brown is her hair? How does she wear it?"
    Eve hissed between her teeth. This Christmas shopping was tough stuff. Doing her best, she focused and described the city's top profiler and shrink.
    By the time Peabody walked in, she was choosing the bottle and waiting for Simon to generate hard copy and disc.
    "You shopped again."
    "No, I bought again."
    "Should we have this delivered to your home or office, Lieutenant?"
    "Home."
    "Would you like it gift wrapped?"
    "Hell. Yeah, yeah, wrap it up. Simon, how about that data?"
    "Just coming, Lieutenant dear." He looked up, beamed at her. "I'm so happy we could help you in that matter." He slipped the papers and disc into a gold foil shopping bag. "I added some samples. I think you'll find them perfect. Naturally." He chuckled at his own joke as he passed the bag to Eve. "And I hope you'll keep me informed. Please come back, any time, any time at all. I'd love to work on you."

CHAPTER SIX
    An ocean of humanity swamped Fifth Avenue. People swarmed on the sidewalks, the people glides, clogged the intersections and crowded at display windows, all in a flurry to get into stores and buy.
    Some, already burdened like pack mules with shopping bags, elbowed and shoved their way through the waves of pedestrians to fight the hopeless fight for a cab.
    Overhead advertising blimps encouraged the masses toward a shopping frenzy with competing announcements of sales and products no consumer could live without.
    "They're all insane," Eve decided as she watched a mini-stampede toward a maxibus heading downtown. "Every one of them."
    "You bought something twenty minutes ago."
    "In a civilized and dignified manner."
    Peabody shrugged. "I like crowds at Christmastime."
    "Then I'm about to make you very happy. We're getting out."
    "Here?"
    "It's as close as we're going to get in a vehicle." Eve nosed her car through the stream of people and inched it toward the curb at Fifth and Fifty-first. "The jeweler's just a few blocks down. We'll make better time on foot."
    Peabody shoe-horned her way out, and caught up with Eve's long strides on the corner. The wind rushed down the street like a river through a canyon and turned the tip of her nose pink before they'd managed a block.
    "I hate this shit," Eve muttered. "Half these people don't even live here. They come in from all over hell and back to clog the streets every damn December."
    "And drop a nice ton of money in our economy."
    "Cause delays, petty crime, traffic accidents. You try to get uptown at six o'clock some night. It's ugly." Scowling, she walked through the roasting meat-scented steam of a corner glide-cart.
    A shout had her flicking her glance to the left in time to see a scuffle. She lifted a brow in mild interest as a street thief on airskates toppled a pair of women, snatched what bags he could