In Death 13 - Seduction in Death

it." But Eve stayed where she was a moment longer, watching Peabody scan the dead woman's fingerprints. Though Peabody's hands and feet were sealed, she made no contact with the body and did the scan quickly, delicately.
    After one nod of approval, Eve strode away to question the uniforms flanking the perimeter.
    It might have been nearly three in the morning, but there were bystanders, gapers, and they had to be encouraged along, blocked out. News hawks were already in evidence, calling out questions, trying to snag a few minutes of recording to pump into the airwaves before the first morning commute.
    An ambitious glide-cart operator had jumped on the opportunity and was putting in some overtime selling to the crowd. His grill pumped out smoke that spewed the scents of soy dogs and rehydrated onions into die air.
    He appeared to be doing brisk business.
    In the gorgeous spring of 2059, death continued to draw an audience from the living, and those who knew how to make a quick buck out of the deal.
    A cab winged by, didn't bother to so much as tap the brakes. From somewhere farther downtown, a siren screamed.
    Eve blocked it out, turned to the uniform. "Rumor is we've got eyes."
    "Yes, sir. Officer Young's got her in the squad car keeping her away from the ghouls."
    "Good." Eve scanned the faces behind the barrier. In them she saw horror, excitement, curiosity, and a kind of relief.
    I'm alive, and you're not.
    Shaking it off, she hunted down Young and the witness.
    Given the neighborhood -- for in spite of the dignity and the petunias, the apartment building was right on the border of midtown bustle and downtown sleaze -- Eve was expecting a licensed companion, maybe a jonesing chemi-head or a dealer on the way to a mark.
    She certainly hadn't expected the tiny, snappily dressed blonde with the pretty and familiar face.
    "Dr. Dimatto."
    "Lieutenant Dallas?" Louise Dimatto angled her head, and the ruby clusters at her ears gleamed like glassy blood. "Do you come in, or do I come out?"
    Eve jerked a thumb, held the car door wider. "Come on out."
    They'd met the previous winter, at the Canal Street Clinic where Louise fought against the tide to heal the homeless and the hopeless. She came from money, and her bloodline was blue, but Eve had good reason to know Louise didn't quibble about getting her hands dirty.
    She'd nearly died helping Eve fight an ugly war during that bitter winter.
    Eve skimmed a look over Louise's stoplight-red dress. "Making house calls?"
    "A date. Some of us try to maintain a healthy social life."
    "How'd it go?"
    "I took a cab home, so you be the judge." She skimmed back her short, honeycomb hair with her fingers. "Why are so many men so boring?"
    "You know, that's a question that haunts me day and night." When Louise laughed, Eve smiled in response. "It's good to see you, all things considered."
    "I thought you might drop by the clinic, come see the improvements your donation helped implement."
    "I think it's called blackmail in most circles."
    "Donation, blackmail. Let's not split hairs. You've helped save a few lives, Dallas. That's got to be nearly as satisfying to you as catching those who take them."
    "Lost one tonight." She turned, looked back toward the body. "What do you know about her?"
    "Nothing, really. I think she lives in the building, but she's not looking her best at the moment, so I can't be sure." After a long breath, Louise rubbed the back of her neck. "Sorry, this is more in your line than mine. It's my first experience nearly having a body fall in my arms. I've seen people die, and it's not always gentle. But this was..."
    "Okay. You want to sit back down? Want some coffee?"
    "No. No. Let me just tell it." She steadied herself, a subtle squaring of the shoulders, stiffening of the spine. "I ditched the date from tedium, grabbed a cab. We'd gone to dinner and a club uptown. I got here about one-thirty, I suppose."
    "You live in this building?"
    "That's right. Tenth floor. Apartment 1005. I paid the cab, got out on the curb. It's a pretty night. I was thinking, It's a beautiful night, and I just wasted it on that jerkoff. So I stood there for a couple minutes, on the sidewalk, wondering if I should go in and call it a night, or take a walk. I decided I'd go up, fix a nightcap, and sit out on my balcony. I turned, took another step toward the doors. I don't know why I looked up -- I didn't hear anything. But I just looked up, and she was falling, with her hair spread out like