In Death 17 - Imitation in Death

they got back into the vehicle. "We keep coming back to that. No problem for him to get out of the house for either murder, and he might've picked up the writing paper-paying cash-on his spring trip to London. Hell, the paper could've been a gift from a fan for that matter. And he decided it fit the bill. He knows the prototype murders as well as the initial killers.
     
     
"Means, motive, opportunity."
     
     
"Yeah, Thomas A. just jumped to the top of our list."
     
     
Chapter 15
     
     
Eve had barely disconnected with Baxter when her communicator signaled. Whitney's face filled the screen.
     
     
"He'll see you at ten forty-five. Make it good."
     
     
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
     
     
Peabody studied Eve's satisfied smile. "A person's fifteen minutes late, one time, and she's out of the loop?"
     
     
"Get me some data on Sophia DiCarlo, the Renquist's au par; and I'll fill you in on the way to the U.N."
     
     
'We're going back to the U.N., to Renquist, and not risking federal imprisonment?"
     
     
"We're going back to apologize, grovel, and eat massive portions of crow."
     
     
"You don't know how to do those things." Peabody looked mournful. "We're going to the pen."
     
     
"Just get the data. If I don't know how to apologize, grovel,_ and eat crow, it's because it's rarely appropriate for me to do so. You have to be wrong first."
     
     
When there was silence, Eve glanced over. "No smart-ass comment?"
     
     
"My grandmother always says, if you can't say something positive about someone, keep your trap shut."
     
     
"Yeah,'like you listen to her. Renquist is pissed, his wife is pissed, and they're in the position to crimp the investigation. Nobody knows how to tie up red tape like a politician. And since my impression of them is that they are pompous assholes, I figured slathering on the 'I'm just a public servant, ergo a bonehead' line might get me in."
     
     
"You said ergo."
     
     
"It goes with pompous."
     
     
"Sophia DiCarlo, twenty-six and single. Citizen of Italy with green card and work permit. Parents, and two sibs reside in Rome. Aha, parents are domestics, employed by Angela Dysert. Bet it's a relation to Mrs. Pompous Asshole. Sophia's been employed by the Renquists as domestic, child-care position, for the past six years. No criminal on record."
     
     
"Okay, the girl-Renquist's girl, she's old enough for school, right? See what you can find on that."
     
     
"It's touchy getting data o n minors, Dallas, especially for, eign nationals, without more clearance"
     
     
"Get what you can."
     
     
Peabody went to work while Eve drove across town. Overhead in the hazy sky, ad blimps and tourist trams moved sluggishly. Inside the relative cool, Eve practiced groveling in her head. Even telling herself it was for the greater good, it rankled.
     
     
"They've got the kid's. privacy blocked. That's pretty standard," Peabody told her. "Especially with more upscale family types. You don't want kidnappers and unsavory types knowing stuff about your kids. You're not going to get anything without clearance."
     
     
"Can't ask for clearance. I don't want the Renquists to know I'm looking at them: Doesn't matter. The au pair's bound to take the kid out sometime, o r better, go out on her own. Has to have a day off."
     
     
Eve tucked her thoughts away as they approached the U.N., and prepared to go through. the multiple security checks.
     
     
It took twenty minutes to get through to Renquist's outer office. It was his admin who greeted them, and invited them to wait.
     
     
Eve figured the extra twenty Renquist kept them cooling their heels was just his way to show who was in charge. Crow was already sticking in her throat when they were admitted.
     
     
"Please make it brief," Renquist said immediately. "I've made time for you out of a very busy day only due to the direct request of your chief of police. You've already infringed on my time here, and my wife's."
     
     
"Yes, sir. I'm very sorry to have intruded on you, and on Mrs. Renquist. In my zeal to further my investigation, I overstepped. I hope neither you nor Mrs. Renquist will take this offense personally, nor let it reflect on the department."
     
     
He arched his brow and the surprise-the satisfaction was obvious in his eyes. "Being considered a suspect in a murder is hardly usual for me, and could hardly be anything but personally offensive."
     
     
"I regret that I gave the impression you were a suspect. Investigative