In Death 08 - Conspiracy in Death

waved a hand at his communication screen when Summerset came on. "Not now."
    "I'm sorry to disturb you, but Dr. Mira is here. She'd very much like to speak with you."
    "I'll be down." He rose, studied Eve another moment. "System off," he murmured, and the equipment behind him shifted from a low hum to silence.
    He stepped out of the room. The door behind him locked automatically and could only be opened with the palm and voice prints of those authorized. Only three people had ever been inside.
    To save time, he used the elevator. He didn't intend to be away from Eve any longer than necessary.
    "Roarke." Mira sprang up from her chair, hurried across the room to grab both of his hands. Her usual calm face showed strain around the eyes and mouth. "I only just heard. I came right over. I'm so sorry to intrude, but I had to come."
    "You're never an intrusion."
    She tightened her grip on his hands. "Please. Will she see me?"
    "I don't know. She's sleeping." He glanced over his shoulder toward the stairs. "I gave her something. I could kill them for this." He spoke almost to himself, his voice soft and terrifyingly gentle. "For putting that look I saw on her face. I could kill them for that alone."
    Because she believed him, her hands trembled a little. "Can we sit?"
    "Of course. Sorry. My mind isn't on my manners."
    "I hope they won't have to be with me. Roarke..." She sat in one of the beautifully curved chairs, leaned forward to lay her hand on his again, hoping the contact would help them both. "While others may be outraged or sympathetic or have any variety of reactions to what happened today, you and I are perhaps the only ones who fully understand what this has done to her. To her heart, her sense of self. Her identity."
    "It's destroyed her." No, he realized, he couldn't sit, and rising, stalked to the window to stare out at the cold afternoon. "I've seen her face death, her own and others'. I've seen her face the misery and fears of her past and the shadows that cover pieces of it. I've seen her terrified of her own feelings. But she stood. She gathered herself and she stood up to it. And this, this departmental procedure, has destroyed her."
    "She'll gather herself again, and she'll stand up to this. But not alone. She can't stand up to this alone."
    He turned, faced her. The light streamed through the window behind him; the dangerous blue of his eyes made Mira think of a cold and vengeful angel ready to leap into hell.
    "She never has to be alone."
    "What you have with her will save her. Just as it saved you."
    He angled his head, changing the slant of light and the uneasy vision she'd had of him. "That's an interesting way to put it. But you're quite right. She did save me, and I'd forgotten I was lost. I love her more than life, and I'll do whatever needs to be done."
    Mira studied her hands a moment, lifted her fingers up, let them fall. "I won't ask you questions about your methods, or your... connections in certain areas. But I will ask if there's anything I can do to help."
    "How far will discounting Bowers's accusations go toward getting Eve's badge back?"
    "It will help considerably with IAB. But until the homicide investigation is closed or the suspicion against Eve is dismissed publicly and without prejudice the department walks a firm line."
    "You can test her? Truth test, personality profile, probabilities."
    "Yes, but she has to be willing, and she has to be ready. It's a difficult process, physically and emotionally. But that, too, would weigh on her side."
    "I'll speak with her about it."
    "She'll have to grieve, but don't let her grieve too long. At some point, she'll need her anger. It'll be her most important source of strength."
    She rose, stepped toward him. "I've asked to be permitted to evaluate Bowers's emotional and mental state, using the records of the last several weeks, her diaries -- the content and tone -- interviews with associates and acquaintances. It'll take time. I have to be very thorough, very careful. Though I'm giving it priority status, I doubt I can furnish the department with a conclusion in less than two weeks."
    "I could take her away," he considered.
    "That might be for the best, even for a few days. But I doubt she'll go." She opened her mouth, shut it again.
    "What?"
    "I know her so well. I have such strong feelings for her. But I'm still a psychiatrist. I believe I know how she'll react, at least initially. I don't want you to feel as if I'm overstepping or