In Death 12 - Betrayal in Death

coffee. He'd already done the work there, she noted, highlighting the range of cash purchases made on a single date in February.
    It fits Yost's style, she thought. Another little shopping spree. New briefcase, new shoes -- six pairs -- new wallet, four leather belts, several pairs of socks -- silk or cashmere. He'd ordered two shirts, tailored to his measurements, from the fancy shop Roarke had identified from the Talbot disc.
    In only two stores, two stops, he'd dropped over thirty thousand Euro dollars.
    Roarke had added the data from the jeweler in London. The New York clerk's cooperative cousin had confirmed that Yost had purchased, for cash, two two-foot lengths of silver wire.
    No backup tool, she thought. That was his arrogance again. He was confident in his skill.
    And according to the best estimate on time of death of the smugglers in Cornwall, he'd done his shopping two days, three at most, before he'd headed north and killed two people.
    He'd had to get north, she thought. Did he keep a car in London? A house? Did he stay at some swank hotel, then rent transpo, take the train, fly?
    Since it was a good bet he hadn't walked, she might be able to track his movements.
    "Question," Eve said as she stepped back into her office. "Do you have a house in London?"
    "Yes, though I rarely use it. I generally prefer my suite at The New Savoy. The service is impeccable."
    "Got a car there?"
    "Two. Garaged."
    "How long a drive to Cornwall?"
    "I've never done it, so I'd have to check." He spared her a glance now, turning in the chair and looking, she thought, entirely too comfortable at her work station. "If I were going that far north, I'd likely save time and take the jet-copter from one of my offices. Unless I was in the mood to see the countryside."
    "If you wanted to keep a low profile?"
    "I'd probably rent a discreet, well-built vehicle."
    "That's what I think, because if you took the train or an air shuttle, you'd have to arrange for transpo on the other end. That adds an unnecessary step. He doesn't like unnecessary steps. The New Savoy's the top digs in London?"
    "I like to think so."
    "Yours?"
    "Mmmm. Do you want to see this data?"
    "Are we going to be arrested, fined, and imprisoned?"
    "We can insist on adjoining cells."
    "Gee, that's real funny." She walked to the desk, leaned over his shoulder, and scanned the data. "This just confirms the heart attack. If the Feebie's info was right, there's got to be something under it."
    "Accessing private hospital records." He clucked his tongue. And since it was there, he turned his head a fraction to nip her jaw. "I'm quite sure there's a law against it."
    "If it's good enough for the feds, it's good enough for me. Dig them out."
    "I love when you say that." He simply executed one keystroke, and had the files he'd already accessed popping on-screen.
    "You did that before I told you to."
    "I don't know what you're talking about. I merely followed the orders of the primary investigator, in my capacity as expert consultant, civilian. But if you feel you must discipline me -- "
    She leaned over just a little more, and bit his ear.
    "Oh, thank you, Lieutenant."
    She stifled the laugh, but stayed where she was. "Broken nose, fractured jaw, separated eye socket, four broken ribs, two broken fingers. Subdural this and hemorrhaging that. A lot of damage for a bad heart."
    "Sodomized as well."
    "But alive through it. Cause of death's the strangulation. The feds fed me straight on this. While we're in here, let's see if they brought the girl in for exam and treatment. Look on this date, same time frame, for a female, under eighteen. Probably examined for sexual molestation, for shock. Maybe minor bruises and lacerations, possible illegals consumption."
    He set the scan, then picked up her coffee. "What does finding her matter? You know who killed Werner."
    "It ties an end. And there's a possibility she helped set him up for the hit."
    "There she is," Roarke murmured when the data popped. "Mollie Newman, female, age sixteen. You hit it down the line, even to the traces of Exotica and Zoner in her system."
    "She's the only one we know of who's seen Yost on the job, and lived."
    Zoner, she thought. That wouldn't have come from Werner. Why screw around with a kid who's zoned? That would have been Yost's addition to the mix.
    "I want to find Mollie. She should have parents or guardians listed here... Freda Newman, mother. We'll run her, see what we get."
    "Lieutenant? Your federal