In Death 07 - Holiday in Death

you're always irritating."
    "Give me a quick rundown of your take on Rudy and Piper."
    "Charming, absolutely. They can spout their company line like champs. Every button I pushed, they came back with the perfect reaction. Well programmed."
    "Who's in charge?"
    "Oh, he is. No question. He's a little over-protective of her for a brother, if you ask me. And it's mildly creepy the way they dress alike down to their lip dye. But it's probably a twin thing."
    "Did you interview any of the staff?"
    "Sure, picked a few consultants at random. They've got a very slick operation going there."
    "Gossip about the owners?"
    "Nothing but praise. I couldn't elbow out one spiteful sentence." She cocked a brow. "Is that what you're looking for?"
    "I'm looking for a killer," Eve said flatly. "Let's get this going."
    "Fine." Nadine reached back, rapping her knuckles on the door to signal Mike. "Straight statement with follow-up questions."
    "One or the other."
    "Don't be so pissy. Start with the statement." Nadine glanced at the bed, calculating the varied body fluids that might have been spent there, and opted to stand.
    An hour later, Eve listened to Chief of Police and Security Tibble run nearly the identical statement she'd given Nadine. He had a more impressive style, she mused, shivering a bit in the cold, as he'd chosen to give the statement on the steps of the Tower, where his offices spanned the top of the building.
    Air traffic had been rerouted for the thirty-minute event so that only a scatter of sky-cams and traffic choppers disturbed the sky overhead.
    Eve was certain he already knew she'd gone on-air with the data. He could slap her down for it. But as she had not been officially barred from preceding him with a statement, it would be a waste of time.
    Eve knew Tibble rarely wasted anything.
    She respected him, and respected him more when he managed to give a complete statement while withholding vital pieces of evidence they would need for trial.
    As questions began to bullet out of the crowd of reporters, he held up both hands. "I'll turn questions over to the primary investigating officer, Lieutenant Eve Dallas."
    He turned, then bent down to her ear. "Five minutes, and don't give them any more than they already have. Next time, Dallas, wear a goddamn coat."
    She huddled in her jacket and stepped forward.
    "Do you have any suspects?"
    Eve didn't sigh, but she wanted to. She hated facing the media. "We're questioning several individuals in connection with these cases."
    "Were the victims sexually assaulted?"
    "The cases are being handled as sexual homicides."
    "How are they connected? Did the victims know each other?"
    "I'm not free to discuss that area of the investigation at this time." She held up a hand to cut off the vicious barrage. "We are, however, treating the cases as connected. As Chief Tibble stated, the investigation, thus far, points to one killer."
    "Santa Claus is coming to town," some comedian called out, and set off a wave of laughter in the crowd.
    "Yeah, make a joke of it." Temper warmed her blood and made her forget her hands were freezing. "That's easy enough when you haven't seen what he leaves behind. When you haven't had to tell mothers and partners that the person they loved is dead."
    The crowd fell quiet enough that she heard the swish of copter blades overhead. "I imagine the person responsible for this misery, for these deaths, will get a big charge out of being played up in the media. Go ahead and give him what he wants. Make the murder of four people small and foolish, and turn him into a star. But inside Cop Central we know what he is. He's pathetic, even more pathetic than you. I've got nothing more to say."
    She turned, ignoring the shouts, and all but bumped into Tibble.
    "Inside one moment, Lieutenant." He took her arm, steering her quickly through guards and through the reinforced doors. "Well done," he said briefly. "And now that we're done with that annoying spectacle, I have to play politics with the mayor. Go do your job, Dallas, and get me this son of a bitch."
    "Yes, sir."
    "And find some gloves, for Christ's sake," he added as he stalked away.
    Eve jammed one hand in her pocket to warm it, and took out her communicator with the other. She tried Mira first, and was told the doctor was still in testing. She put in the next call to Peabody.
    "Anything pop on the necklace?"
    "We got a possible. Baubles and Bangles on Fifth. Their jeweler designed and made the necklace. This was a