In Death 15 - Purity in Death

Nadine again," she continued. "They want public attention, and approval."
    "They're going to get it." Feeney slurped at his coffee. "This is just the sort of thing that gets people riled up, arguing in the streets, making up T-shirts, taking sides."
    "We can't stop the media train, so we do our best to steer it onto our tracks. Nadine wants to interview both you and McNab. You can blow," she said before Feeney could do just that. "But you won't be saying anything I didn't already say or think. The point is, the department believes this will be helpful."
    "You think I'm giving this airtime?" Feeney slammed his cup down. "You think I'm going to go on-screen and yammer about what happened yesterday, talk about that boy?"
    "What you'll say will help people understand what happened with Halloway." Roarke spoke quietly. "It will make them see him as he was - a good cop who was doing his job. Who was killed in the line of duty by a group of people who want to be perceived as guardians of justice. You'd make them see him as a person."
    "I'd like to talk about it." McNab was strapped into the chair. It was something he couldn't ignore no matter how hard he tried. He wasn't just sitting, but secured in. So he wouldn't slump down like a ragdoll, tumble out like a baby.
    It burned in his belly along with the fear that he would be strapped in a chair the rest of his life. "If people listen they'd understand he wasn't the one who put me down. It was whoever infected that unit he was working on. Halloway didn't put me in here, and he doesn't deserve anyone thinking he did. So I'd like to do the interview. I'd like to say what I have to say."
    "If that's what you want." Feeney picked up his coffee again, drank it to wash away the fist-sized lump in his throat. "Then that's what we'll do."
    "The department's issued statements. You'll both need to read them." Eve walked to her desk, gave herself time to settle. "They won't preclude or censor anything you feel you want to say, but they'd like you to get in the bullet points, and some of the language. It's important NYPSD show unity in this regard. Nadine can do the interviews here."
    She turned back. "Now maybe we can get down to the business of cop work. We need to determine the nature of the virus in the units, and that can't be done until we have some sort of shield against that virus."
    "I've done a bit of work on that," Roarke told her. "And taken the liberty of calling in a technical adviser." He turned to the 'link. "Summerset, send him up."
    "You should've cleared this with me," Eve began.
    "You need specific skills for this. Feeney and McNab need more than me. And I need more than an assistant. I've someone who's been doing some very innovative work with my R and D departments, and I don't think you'll find anything to worry about regarding his loyalty or his clearance."
    Eve looked at the doorway. And her jaw dropped. "Well, for Christ's sake, Roarke, I can't use a kid for this."

Chapter 8
    "Genius has no age."
    So said Jamie Lingstrom as he strutted into her office on a pair of dilapidated airboots.
    He wore his sandy hair short and spiked on top with a longer hank in the front that flopped over his forehead. The only piercing - apparently - was to accommodate the tiny silver hoop at the tail of his left eyebrow. His face had done some fining down since the last time she'd seen him, and right now his mouth was twisted into a smirk.
    He'd always been cocky.
    His grandfather had been a cop, who'd gone down while unofficially investigating a cult. The cult had killed Jamie's sister and had come uncomfortably close to sacrificing Eve.
    He'd sprouted up at least two inches. When did kids stop growing? she wondered. He was sixteen - no, likely seventeen by now. And he should have been doing whatever teenagers did rather than standing in her office with that cocky expression.
    "Why aren't you in school?"
    "I do the home thing mostly, on work program. You get to do hands-on-the-job crap as long as it's with a business that contracts through the school and shit."
    Eve turned to Roarke. "One of yours."
    "Actually, I have several companies that contract with the education program. The youth of today, after all, is the hope of tomorrow."
    "So." Jamie scanned the room then dipped his thumbs into the front pockets of baggy jeans with holes at both knees. "When do we get started?"
    "You." Eve jabbed a finger at Roarke. "There." Pointing at his office, she strode in ahead of him, slammed