In Death 08 - Conspiracy in Death

your cheerful attitude how much you love working with people." She could see by Jan's confused expression it would take a while for the sarcasm to sink in.
    Eve went through and settled into the cramped little office to wait for Louise.
    It took twenty minutes, and the doctor didn't look particularly pleased to see Eve again. "Let's make this fast. I've got a broken arm waiting to be set."
    "Fine, I need you as an expert consultant on my case for the medical end of things. The hours suck, the pay's lousy. There may be some possibility of risk, and I'm very demanding of the people who work with me."
    "When do I start?"
    Eve smiled with such unexpected warmth and humor, Louise nearly goggled. "When's your next day off?"
    "I don't get whole days, but I don't start my rotation tomorrow until two."
    "That'll work. Be at my home office tomorrow, eight sharp. Peabody, give her the address."
    "Oh, I know where you live, Lieutenant." It was Louise's turn to smile. "Everyone knows where Roarke lives."
    "Then I'll see you at eight."
    Satisfied, Eve headed back out. "I'm going to like working with her."
    "Do you want me to put in the request and papers to add her as consult?"
    "Not yet." Thinking of wiped records, of cops that didn't seem particularly interested in closing cases, she shook her head as she climbed back into her vehicle. "Let's keep this unofficial for awhile yet. Put us back on log."
    Using her best pitiful look, Peabody said only, "Lunch?"
    "Hell. All right, but I'm not buying anything in this neighborhood for internal consumption." A woman of her word, she headed uptown and stopped when she saw a fairly clean glide-cart.
    She made do with a scoop of oil fries while Peabody feasted on a soy pocket and vegetable kabob.
    Eve put her vehicle on auto, letting it drive aimlessly while she ate. And she thought. The city swirled around her, the bump and grind of street traffic, the endless drone of air commuters. Stores advertised their annual inventory clearance sales with the endless monologue from the blimps overhead or huge, splashy signs.
    Bargain hunters braved the frigid temperatures and shivered on people glides as they went about their business. It was a bad time for pickpockets and scam artists. No one stood still long enough to be robbed or conned.
    Still, she spotted a three-card monte game and more than one sneak thief on airskates.
    If you wanted something badly enough, she mused, a little inconvenience wouldn't stop you.
    Routine, she thought. It was all a routine, the grifters and the muggers and the purse grabbers had theirs. And the public knew they were there and simply hoped they could avoid contact.
    And the sidewalk sleepers had theirs. They would shiver and suffer through the winter and hope to evade the lick of death that came with subzero temperatures while it lapped at their cribs.
    No one paid much attention if they were successful or not. Is that what he'd counted on? That no one would pay much attention? Neither of her victims had had close family to ask questions and make demands. No friends, no lovers.
    She hadn't heard a single report on the recent killing on any of the news and information channels. It didn't make interesting copy, she supposed. It didn't bump ratings.
    And she smiled to herself, wondering how Nadine Furst would feel about the offer of a one-on-one exclusive. Munching on a fry, she put a call through to the reporter.
    "Furst. Make it fast and make it good. I'm on air in ten."
    "Want a one-on-one, Nadine?"
    "Dallas." Nadine's foxy face glowed with a smile. "What do I have to do for it?"
    "Just your job. I've got a homicide -- sidewalk sleeper -- "
    "Hold it. No good. We did a feature last month on sleepers. They freeze, they get sliced. We do our public interest bit twice a year. It's too soon for another."
    "This one got sliced -- sliced open, then his heart was removed and taken from the scene."
    "Well that's a happy thought. If you're working a cult angle, we did a feature in that area in October for Halloween. My producer's not going to go for another. Not for a sleeper. Now, a feature on you and Roarke, on what it's like inside your marriage, that I could run with."
    "Inside my marriage is my business, Nadine. I've got a retired LC who ran ponies. She was sliced open a couple of months back. Somebody took her kidneys."
    The slight irritation in Nadine's eyes cleared, and they sharpened. "Connected?"
    "Do your job," Eve suggested. "Then call my office and ask me that