In Death 09 - Loyalty in Death

we're working with intricate, handmade units. Plaston appears to be the material of favor. Analysis is incomplete as to the capabilities of distance on the remotes, but it appears to be extreme long range. These aren't toys, no homemade boomers, but high-level military-style explosives. I concur with Lieutenant Dallas's opinion on Radio City. If this group had wanted it blown, it'd be dust."
    She sat, giving way to Feeney. "This is one of the surveillance cameras my team swept out of Radio City." He held up a small round unit hardly bigger than the circle made by his thumb and forefinger. "It's damn well made. We tagged twenty-five of them from scene. They watched every step we took and could have blown us to hell in a heartbeat."
    He slipped the bug back into its seal. "EDD is working with Malloy and her people to develop a longer-range, more sensitive bomb scanner. Meanwhile, I'm not saying the feds don't have good people, but so do we. And it's our damn city. Added to that, this group contacted Dallas. They targeted her. You pull her back now, and us with her, you're going to change the balance. Once it tips, we could lose it all."
    "So noted. Dallas?" Tibble lifted a finger. "An opinion on why this group contacted you?"
    "Only conjecture, sir. Roarke owns or has interests in the targets thus far. I'm connected to Roarke. It amuses them. Fixer referred to it as a game. I think they're enjoying it. He also spoke of revenge."
    She rose again, shifted the image of Monica Rowan on-screen. "She'd have the most cause to enjoy some revenge, and as Rowan's widow, would be the most likely person to have personal and inside knowledge of his group."
    "You and your aide are cleared for immediate travel to Maine," Tibble told her. "Commander? Comments?"
    "This team has put together an impressive amount of evidence and probability in a short amount of time." Whitney rose. "It's my opinion that a federal team would be superfluous."
    "I believe the lieutenant and her team have given me enough balls to juggle for the politicians." Tibble got to his feet as well. "Dallas, you remain in charge until further notice. I expect updates on every step. It's our city, Captain Feeney," he added as he turned to the door. "Let's keep it intact."
    "Whew." McNab let out a huge sigh when the door closed again. "Dodged that beam."
    "And if we want to keep this case where it belongs, we're going to work our butts off." Eve smiled at him thinly. "Your social life just went down the sewer, pal. We need that long-range scanner. And I want every arena and sports complex in every borough scanned. New Jersey as well."
    "Christ, Dallas, with our equipment and manpower, that'll take a week."
    "You've got a day," she told him. "Get in touch with Roarke." She jammed her hands in her pockets. "Odds are, he's got some toy that fits what you're looking for."
    "Hot damn." McNab rubbed his hands together and grinned at Anne. "Wait till you see what this guy's got."
    "Feeney, is there any way you can block the unit in here? Jam it? Or better yet, come up with a new, unregistered unit with a shield."
    His hangdog face brightened as he smiled at Eve. "Guess I could jury-rig something. Not that we ever fiddle with unregistereds over at EDD."
    "Of course not. Peabody, you're with me."
    "Hey, when are you getting back?" McNab called out.
    Eve turned, stared at him, while Peabody wished herself invisible. "When we're finished, Detective. I think you have enough to keep you busy in the meantime."
    "Oh sure, I just wondered. Just wondered." He grinned foolishly. "Have a nice trip."
    "We're not going for lobster," Eve muttered and, shaking her head, walked out.
    "We'll be back before end of shift, don't you think? Sir?"
    Eve shrugged into her jacket as she strode to the elevator. "Look, if you've got a hot date, you'll just have to cool your glands."
    "No, I didn't mean... Ah, I just want to let Zeke know if I'm going to be on OT, that's all." And it shamed her that she hadn't given her brother a thought.
    "It takes as long as it takes. We've got a stop to make before we snag transpo north."
    "I don't suppose we'll be taking one of Roarke's private jets?" When Eve merely eyed her balefully, Peabody hunched her shoulders. "Nope, guess not. It's just that they're so much faster than public shuttles."
    "And you're just interested in speed, right, Peabody?" Eve stepped onto the elevator, pushed for garage. "It has nothing to do with plush, roomy seats, the fully stocked