In Death 17 - Imitation in Death

door.
     
     
"There. Five gets you ten his-unregistered's in there."
     
     
She crossed the room, found the door locked. Rather than waste time, she waved to Roarke, then planted her feet at the sound of rushing footsteps.
     
     
With a pale peach robe swirling around her, Pamela Renquist rushed into the, room. Her face was naked of enhancements, and looked older than it had. Her color was high, her teeth were already peeled back in a snarl.
     
     
'This is outrageous! This is criminal. I want you, all of you, out of my home immediately! I'm calling the ambassador, I'm calling the consulate, and your superiors."
     
     
"Be my guest, Eve invited, and all but slapped the warrant in her face. "I have all the proper authorization for this search, and I will complete same with or without your cooperation."
     
     
"We'll see about that." She started to march to the desk, and Eve blocked her. "You won't be able to use this 'link, or any of the house 'links until the search is complete. If you wish to make a call or send a transmission, you are restricted to the use of your personal 'links, in the company of a duly authorized officer. Where is your husband, Mrs. Renquist?'
     
     
"Go to hell."
     
     
"He's going to beat me there, I promise you."
     
     
She caught the signal from Roarke out of the corner of her eye, and moved over to the unlocked door. She opened it.
     
     
"Well, well, well, what have we here. A little hidey-hole, complete with data and communication center. We're going to find this is unregistered, Feeney. And look at all these discs. Renquist is a big fan of Thomas A. Breen, and his ilk. Alt these books and data on serial killers tucked in here."
     
     
"It's hardly against the law, even in this country, to have a private space, and to own books on any subject." But Pamela was losing her furious color.
     
     
Eve eased farther in, and opened a barrel-shaped leather bag. "Not against the law to own surgical tools either, but it sure is funny. I'm sure he cleaned these very well, but I just bet we find traces of Jacie Wooton's blood on them."
     
     
She opened a long cupboard, felt her own blood pump when she studied the collection of wigs, the black cape, the city employee uniform, and other costumes. "Niles likes to play dress -up?"
     
     
She booted a container of plaster with her toe. "And does his own home improvements, too. A real Renaissance man."
     
     
Opening a drawer, she felt a little hitch in her heart. Then reached in with a sealed hand and picked up a gold band, set with five small sapphires. "Lois Gregg's ring," she murmured. "I think her family will want this back."
     
     
"Got another of that sick bastard's souvenirs." -
     
     
Eve turned, saw Feeney's face was white. He held the lid of a portable cold box, and she knew before he spoke what was inside.
     
     
"Looks like we found the rest of Jacie Wooton." Feeney breathed slowly through his teeth. "Son of a bitch has it labeled, for sweet Christ's sake.
     
     
Eve made herself look, made herself take the step over and look down into the container where the icy steam was already dissipating. Within was a clear, sealed bag, with its horror meticulously labeled: WHORE
     
     
She whirled around quickly and caught the expression on Pamela's face. "You knew. Part of you knew, and you covered for him. Don't want any scandal, don't want any smudges on your perfect little world."
     
     
"That's ridiculous. I don't know what you're talking about." There was a green tinge to her-skin now, as she stepped back from the closet and its awful contents. But her chin stayed high and firm, and her tone dismissive.
     
     
"Yes, you do. You know what goes on in your house. You make it your business to -know. Why don't you take a closer look."
     
     
Eve took her arm, gave it a little tug, though she had no intention of letting her into the closet.
     
     
"Get a good up-close at what Niles has been up to. And think about when it might have been your turn. Or your daughter's."
     
     
"You're out of your mind. Take your hand off me. I'm a British citizen. I'm not under your aegis."
     
     
"You're hip-deep in my aegis, Pam." She stepped just a little closer. "I'm going to put him away. That's priority. And after I've got him in a cage, I'm going to make it my mission in life to get you on accessory."
     
     
"You have no right to speak to me that way. In my own home. When I'm finished with you-"
     
     
"We'll see who finishes. Feeney, get