In Death 15 - Purity in Death

left. She'll need to take a couple days' medical leave."
    "See that she has what she needs. Dwier and Price are in custody, and will be held incommunicado until the situation is resolved. We have the location in Albany under surveillance. When you've cleaned up here, Donald Dukes will be taken. We agree that he shouldn't be arrested until after your raid on tonight's meeting?"
    "Yes, sir. Dwier and Price were just soldiers. Dukes is one of the generals." The commandant, Eve remembered. "It's probable he remains in contact with other key members of the organization. We let him sit until we've broken its back. Sir, as Dwier has further implicated Mayor Peachtree, I request permission for formal questioning."
    "The mayor has agreed to temporary house arrest. His incoming and outgoing transmissions are being monitored. Under advice of counsel he's admitted to the sexual . . . transgression, but continues to deny any association with Purity. Politically, he's finished."
    "Politically," Eve began.
    "Yes. That's not enough. I won't disagree. However, this evening's op takes priority over questioning him. We'll bag most if not all the other members in this sweep, essentially destroying this organization. That's the first order of business."
    "When the mayor's office is a front for terrorists, that's an important piece of business, Commander."
    "And will it make a difference to closing this case if you question him now, or wait until tomorrow?"
    She wanted to take him now. She wanted to taste him in her throat. "It could if he gives up additional information."
    "I can promise you that with his fleet of attorneys, you'll be in for a long, tough haul getting more than his name. You don't have the time to spare today. He's on ice, Dallas. He's done. Be satisfied with that for a few hours longer. I give you my word that as of ten a.m. tomorrow, he belongs to you."
    "Yes, sir. Thank you."
    "You've done superior work on this despite a number of difficult obstacles." He hesitated, studying her face. "I'd like to speak to something Chief Tibble said this morning. You deserve the bars, Dallas."
    "They don't matter."
    "Fuck it. This is between you and me, here in this room. You deserve to wear the bars. You've earned them. If it was only a matter of merit, you would wear them. Regrettably it's not only a matter of merit. Your age is a consideration. What are you, Dallas, thirty?"
    "Thirty-one, sir."
    He let out a half-laugh. "I've got shirts older than you. I have to hide them from my wife, but I've got them. Still this is a consideration that could be resolved, even used to advantage, in some circumstances."
    "Commander Whitney. I'm aware that my personal life is a factor in this matter. That my marriage to Roarke, who is regarded in some quarters, certainly some within the department, with suspicion - unless he's being useful - is and will be more a detriment to my moving up in rank than the mayor using an illegal sex broker and doing the mambo in women's clothes would be to his future political standing. Chief Tibble was correct. It was my choice."
    "I hope you're equally aware that your marriage isn't regarded as a detriment in this office."
    "I am."
    "Nor, for that matter, by the chief. If it were up to me, you'd have your bars."
    "It used to matter to me. It doesn't seem so important anymore. I'd never be able to play the game with the same passion I can put into the job."
    "You'll find out differently." His chair creaked when he leaned back. "It's a few years down the road yet, as things stand. But you will find out differently. Go home, clean up. Gear up. Then go take these bastards down."
    Eve decided to follow orders exactly. The minute she got home she headed for the shower. She only wished she could wash away frustration and anger as easily as blood and sweat.
    Bracing her hands on the tiles, she lowered her head so the jets of water could beat down over her, drumming out the little aches.
    She didn't think. For twenty minutes under the spray she allowed herself to blank. Calmer, she stepped into the drying tube, let the hot air whirl and blow around her. She hitched on a towel, stepped back into the bedroom.
    And saw Roarke.
    "Sit down, Eve."
    Her blood drained. "Peabody."
    "No. No, she's doing well. In fact, she's on her way here now. You just need to sit."
    "I've got a major op in a few hours. The investigative team deserves to be down on the bust. They need to be briefed."
    "It can wait while you take a few more minutes