In Death 17 - Imitation in Death

of that frigid room in Dallas and looked at the bloody waste of the thing that had been her father.
     
     
"You can't feel that way when you see it all the time. When you do what we do."
     
     
"You can't,". Eve said as she started the car. "Some can. Not all cops are heroes just because they're supposed to be. And not all fathers are good guys just because they give their little boys a ride on their shoulders. Whether I like him or not, his lack of alibi, his line of work, and, possession of - the notepaper put him on the list, We're going to do a very careful check on Thomas A. Breen. Let's run; the wife, too. What didn't we hear from him in today's conversation, Peabody?"
     
     
"I'm not following you:"
     
     
"He told us she came home from a late meeting. She went to bed. He worked. He slept in. She took the kid to the park. But I never heard anything about we. My wife and I, Jule and I. Me and, my, wife and Jed. That's what I didn't bear. And what impression do you suppose I-get from that?"
     
     
"You're thinking the marriage isn't good, that there's friction or disinterest between Breen and his wife, Yeah, I can see that, but I can see how with two careers and a kid a couple could get into a routine- that revolves around work and pass the toddler."
     
     
"Maybe. Doesn't seem much point in being' together if you never are though, does there? Good-looking guy like that might start getting resentful and frustrated with that sort of routine. Especially if he sees it as a repeat of his own childhood. A guy doesn't want to look in the mirror at thirty-something and see his father looking back at him. We'll take a good closed look at Thomas A. Breen," she repeated. "And see what we see."
     
     
Eve decided her next stop would be Fortney. But it was time to play it, and him, a different way:
     
     
"I want- to nudge Fortney on the second murder, revisit the first. His-alibi's bullshit. And since I tend to get cranky when people lie_ to me, I'm not going to be particularly friendly."
     
     
"As you are the epitome of cheer and goodwill by nature, sir, this will be somewhat of a stretch".
     
     
"I smell the distinct aroma of lame-ass sarcasm in this vehicle."
     
     
"We'll have it fumigated."
     
     
"But fortunately I'm the epitome of cheer and goodwill and will not rub your nose in it at this time. A few minutes into my unfriendly conversation with Fortney, I'm going to get a tag on my pocket 'link."
     
     
"As I'm in awe of you in all ways, I'm unsurprised by this sudden psychic ability."
     
     
"I'll be annoyed, but will have to take the communication, thereby passing the interview to you."
     
     
"Do you also know who'll be tagging... What? To me?"
     
     
That, Eve thought, had wiped the ' sassy little smirk off her aide's face. "You'll pick it up as good cop. The longsuffering, somewhat inexperienced, and apologetic underling. Play that, up, fumble around."
     
     
"Sir. Dallas. I am the long-suffering, somewhat inexperienced, and, apologetic underling. I don't have to play it up or pretend to fumble around."
     
     
"Use it,' Eve said simply. "Make it work for you. Let him think he's leading you. He'll_ see a girl cop in uniform, who takes orders from me. Second-string. He won't see past that to what you're made of."
     
     
I don't ,know what I'm made of, Peabody thought, but. drew a deep breath. "I can see how it could work."
     
     
"Make, it work," Eve said again, and parked outside, the office building to, set the timer on her 'link.
     
     
Eve bullied her way into Leo Fortney's office and set the mood. Enjoyed setting it, she admitted. She put a little swagger in her step -as she broke in on his holo-conference with a video producer.
     
     
"You're going to want to reschedule your little confab, Leo," she told him. "Or let Hollywood here in on our conversation:"
     
     
"You have no right pushing your way in here, throwing your weight around.
     
     
She flipped out her badge so the images in the room: had a clear view. "Bet?"
     
     
Fortney's color was edging toward magenta. "I'm sorry, Thad. I need to take care of this... disturbance. I'll have my assistant reschedule, at your convenience."
     
     
He shut the hologram down before Thad could do more than raise two thin eyebrows into sharp, questioning points.
     
     
"I don't have to tolerate this, kind_ of ambush!" His magenta hair was pulled severely back from his face today, and the sleek tail of it whipped wildly, as he flung out