In Death 10 - Witness in Death

a clear file of discs out of her bag, those gathered from the uniforms and detectives who'd logged witness names the night of the Draco homicide. "You get the grand prize. Run standard backgrounds and probabilities on these individuals, re Draco. We got close to three thousand names here. Grab a couple of detectives, a few uniforms if you need them, and get statements. Let's see if you can cut that number in half by the end of the week."
    He snorted. "Very funny, Dallas."
    "I have orders from Whitney to tag somebody for this duty. Tag, Baxter. You're it."
    "This is bullshit." When she dropped the file on his desk, his eyes wheeled. "You can't dump this nightmare on me, Dallas."
    "Can, have, did. You're dropping crumbs, Baxter. You should remember to always keep your area clean."
    Pleased with the morning's work, she headed for her office with his curses following her.
    The door was open, and the sounds of riffling came clearly into the hall. Eve pressed her back to the wall, danced her fingers over her weapon. The son of a bitch. She had him this time. The sneaking candy thief's ass was hers at last.
    She charged into the room, leading with her fist, and caught the intruder by the scruff of the neck. "Gotcha!"
    "Hey, lady!"
    She had six inches and a good twenty pounds on him. Eve calculated she could squeeze him through her skinny window without too much trouble. He'd make an interesting smear on the pavement below.
    "I'm not going to read you your rights," she said as she bounced him against the file cabinets. "You won't need them where you're going."
    "Call Lieutenant Dallas!" His voice piped out like a rusty flute. "Call Lieutenant Dallas."
    She hauled him around, stared into his jittery eyes, doubled in size behind microgoggles. "I am Dallas, you candy-stealing putz."
    "Well, jeez. Jeez. I'm Lewis. Tomjohn Lewis, from Maintenance. I got your new equipment."
    "What the hell are you talking about? Let me smell your breath. You got candy breath, I'm going to pull out your tongue and strangle you with it."
    With his feet dangling an inch from the floor, he puffed out his cheeks and blew explosive air in her face. "Cracked wheat waffles down to the Eatery, and -- and the fruit cup. I ain't had candy. Swear to God."
    "No, but you might want to consider a stronger mouthwash. What's this about new equipment?"
    "There. Right there. I was just finishing the transfer."
    Still holding him off the floor, she turned her head. Her mouth fell open seconds before she dropped Lewis in a heap and leaped on the industrial gray shell of the computer. "Mine. It's mine."
    "Yes, sir, Lieutenant sir. She's all yours."
    With her arms possessively circled around the unit, she looked back at him. "Look, maintenance boy, if you're toying with me, I'll bite your ears off and make them into stew."
    "I got the order right here." Moving cautiously, he reached in his pocket for his logbook, punched in the code. "See, here, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, Homicide Division. You got yourself a new XE-5000. You requisitioned it yourself."
    "I requisitioned it two goddamn years ago."
    "Yeah. Well." He smiled hopefully. "Here she is. I was just hooking her to the mainframe. You want I should finish?"
    "Yeah, I want you should finish."
    "Okay. Have it done in a wink, then get right out of your way." He all but dived under the desk.
    "What the hell kind of name is Tomjohn?"
    "It's my name, Lieutenant. You got your complete owner's manual and user's guide in that box over there."
    She looked over, snorted at the foot-high box. "I know how it works. I have this model at home."
    "It's a good machine. Once you're linked to the main, all we gotta do is transfer your code and data from your old equipment. Take about thirty minutes, tops."
    "I got time." She skimmed her eyes over her old unit, dented, battered, despised. Some of the dents had been put into it by her own frustrated fist. "What happens to my old equipment?"
    "I can haul it out for you, take it down to recycle."
    "Fine -- no. No, I want it. I want to take it home." She'd perform a ritual extermination, she decided. She hoped it suffered.
    "Okay by me." Since he figured his tongue and his ears were safe again, he began to whistle with his work. "That thing's been obsolete for five years. Don't know how you managed to get anything done with it."
    Her only response to that was a low, throaty growl.
    When Peabody came in an hour later, Eve was sitting at her crowded desk, grinning. "Look, Peabody. It's