In Death 17 - Imitation in Death

all I know, because I've seen the other side. Handling double Ds before I transferred to you. Just being on the streets in uniform. And what, I've worked on since I've been in Homicide."
     
     
"Nothing wipes the all-American family image, out of a cop's head faster than their first couple of domestic disturbances."
     
     
"One of the best reasons to be off patrol," Peabody agreed, with feeling. "What I'm saying is I've seen what it can be like, and it's toughest on the kids."
     
     
"Everything's always toughest on the kids. Some get over it, under it, through it. Others don't. And another theory on Smith is he feeds on the female adulation in one part of his life-and revels in it. Meanwhile he considers them whores and bid-and he kills them in the most vicious and theatrical way he can devise."
     
     
'I guess that's a pretty decent theory."
     
     
"Either way, he's not going to like me throwing his background up in his face. So be ready."
     
     
Taking Eve at her word, Peabody rested a hand on her stunner as they walked from the vehicle to Smith's front door. "Not that ready, Peabody. Let's try to play nice first."
     
     
They were admitted by the same woman, and walked into the sane music. At least Eve thought it was the same. How could you tell, she wondered, when everything the guy sang had the same sugar rush to it?
     
     
Before they could be led into the room with floor cushions and the fluffy white kitten, Eve laid a hand on the woman's arm- "Any place in here have actual chairs?'
     
     
Li's mouth turned down in disapproval, but she nodded. "Of course Come this way, please."
     
     
She showed them into a room with wide, deep chairs done in pale gold, accented with tables of clear glass. On one table was a Small fountain where blue water burbled over smooth white rocks.
     
     
Another held a white box filled with white sand where some oar patterns had been drawn with, Eve assumed, the little rake that lay beside it.
     
     
The curtains were closed, but when they entered the room the rim of the tables illuminated.
     
     
"Please be comfortable." Li gestured to the chairs. "Carmichael will be with you in just a moment."
     
     
Ignoring her, Eve studied a mood screen. Soft pastels -dripped down in this one, melting from pinks into blues into golds into pinks again. Smith's voice crooned in the background.
     
     
"I already - feel queasy," Eve muttered. "I should've pressed to have him come into Central, where things are normal.".
     
     
"I heard you dislocated some mope's jaw yesterday." Peabody kept. her face sober. "Some people don't consider that actually normal in the, day to day."
     
     
"Some people don't know diddly." She turned back as Smith made his entrance.
     
     
"How- nice to see you both again." He made a flowing movement with his arms to indicate chairs. It had the wide sleeves of his shirt fluttering. "We're having something cool and citrus. I hope you'll enjoy it."
     
     
He arranged himself in a chair as one of his staff placed a tray on a long glass table. "I'm told you've been trying to get in touch," he continued as he poured liquid from pitcher to glasses. "I can't imagine why, but must apologize for being unavailable.
     
     
"Your rep called my commander," Eve said. "So I imagine you have some idea."
     
     
"Another apology forthcoming." He picked up one of the glasses, held it in both of his handsome hands. "My agent is overprotective, which, naturally, is his job. Just the idea that the media could get wind that I'd spoken to you regarding such a terrible matter worries him. II told him I trusted you to be absolutely discreet, but..." He shrugged elegantly, sipped.
     
     
"I'm not looking for publicity, I'm looking for a murderer."
     
     
"You won't find one here. This is a place of peace and tranquillity."
     
     
"Peace and tranquillity." Eve nodded, watching his face. "I'd guess that sort of thing's important to you."
     
     
"Vital, as it should be to everyone. The world is a canvas, and on it is painted great beauty. All we have to do is look."
     
     
"Peace and tranquillity and beauty are more vital to someone who grew up without them. To a man who was systematically and regularly abused as a child. Battered and beaten. Do you pay your mother to keep quiet about it, or just to keep her away?"
     
     
The glass in Smith's hand shattered, and a thin line of blood dripped down his palm.
     
     
Chapter 14
     
     
Shards of glass hitting the floor had, in