In Death 16 - Portrait in Death

without authorization or any clear reason.
     
     
But she trusted Nadine's instincts-the woman's nose for a story was like a beagle's for a rabbit-and had tagged Peabody, her aide, with orders to detour to Delancey.
     
     
There was plenty of business being done on the street. The area was a hive of delis, coffee shops, and specialty stores that crowded along on sidewalk level and served the inhabitants of the apartments above them. The bakery sold to the guy who ran the fix-it shop next door, and he'd diddle with the AutoChef for the woman who ran the clothes store on the other side, while she ran across the street to buy fruit from the stand.
     
     
It was a tidy system, Eve imagined. Old and established, and though it still bore some scars from the Urban Wars, it had rebuilt itself.
     
     
It wasn't a sector where you'd want to take a stroll late at night, and a couple of blocks south or west you'd find the not-so-tidy communities of sidewalk sleepers and chemi-heads, but on a sweltering summer morning, this slice of Delancey was all business.
     
     
She pulled up behind a double-parked delivery truck, flipped up her On Duty light.
     
     
With some reluctance, she left the cool cocoon of her vehicle and stepped into the hot, wet wall of summer. The smells hit her first-brine and coffee and sweat. The more appealing hint of melon from the fruit vendor was overpowered by the rush of steam gushing out of a glide-cart. It carried the distinct odor of egg substitute and onions.
     
     
She did her best not to breathe it in-who ate that shit-as she stood on the corner scanning.
     
     
She didn't spot Nadine, or Peabody, but she did see a trio of what she took to be shopkeepers and a City Maintenance drone having an argument in front of a green recycle bin.
     
     
She kept an eye on them while she considered calling Roarke to check on Summerset. Maybe there'd been a miracle and the medical techs had glued his bone back together and he was, even now, on his way to transport. As a result of the morning trauma, he wasn't taking three weeks vacation. But four.
     
     
And while he was gone, he'd fall madly in love with a licensed companion-who would have sex with that freak unless she was paid for it-and decide to settle down with her in Europe.
     
     
No, not Europe. It wasn't far away enough. They'd relocate in the Alpha Colony on Taurus I, and never again return to this planet called Earth.
     
     
As long as she didn't call, she could hold on to the silver threads of that little fantasy.
     
     
But she remembered the pain in Summerset's eyes and the way Roarke had held his hand.
     
     
With a mighty sigh, she pulled out her pocket-link. Before she could use it one of the shopkeepers shoved City Maintenance. Maintenance shoved back. Eve saw the first punch coming even if Maintenance didn't, and he ended up on his ass. She shoved the 'link back in her pocket and headed down the sidewalk to break it up.
     
     
She was still three feet away when she smelled it. She'd walked with death too many times to mistake it.
     
     
The living were currently rolling around on the sidewalk, being cheered on or berated by the people who popped out of storefronts or stopped their hike to work to watch the show.
     
     
Eve didn't bother with her badge, but simply hauled the guy on top up by his shirt, and planted her foot on the chest of the one still on the ground.
     
     
"Knock it off."
     
     
The shopkeeper was a little guy, and wiry with it. He jerked away, leaving Eve with a handful of sweaty shirt. The blood in his eye was from temper, but his lip was sporting the real thing. "This is none of your business, lady, so just move before you get hurt."
     
     
"That's Lieutenant Lady." The guy on the ground seemed content to stay there. He was paunchy, he was winded, and his left eye was already swelling shut. But as she didn't have any love for anyone in any sector of maintenance, she kept her boot weighted on his chest as she flipped out her badge.
     
     
The smile she sent the shopkeeper showed a lot of teeth. "You want to take bets on who's going to get hurt here? Now back off, and shut it down."
     
     
"A cop. Good. You ought to throw his sorry ass in a cage. I pay my taxes." Shopkeeper threw up his hands, turning to the crowd for support like a boxer circling the ring between rounds. "We pay out the wazoo, and dickheads like this screw us over."
     
     
"He assaulted me. I want to file charges."
     
     
Eve spared a