In Death 17 - Imitation in Death

business lunch.
     
     
"So what'd you eat?" she asked when he came on.
     
     
"Chef's salad. How about you?"
     
     
"I'm getting something in a minute. You got any business in Boston?"
     
     
"I could have. Why?"
     
     
"I've got to make a run up there, maybe out to the West Coast. Check out some things. I don't want to take Peabody. She's got the exam day after tomorrow. She needs to stay here, plus I can't be a hundred percent I'll be back on time for her to make it. Thought you might want to tag along."
     
     
"I might. When?"
     
     
"ASAP."
     
     
"This wouldn't be a maneuver to avoid Summerset's return?" ,
     
     
"No, but it's a handy side benny. Look, you want to go or not?"
     
     
"I have to do some shuffling." He angled away, and she saw him dance his fingers over a small keyboard. "I need... two hours will do it.
     
     
"That works for me." Now came the tricky part. "I'll meet you at the Newark transpo center, say seventeen hundred. We'll grab a shuttle there."
     
     
"Public transpo? And at five o'clock? I don't think so."
     
     
She just loved the way he sneered.: `"Timing can't be helped," she began.
     
     
"Accommodations can. We'll take one of my shuttles."
     
     
Which was exactly what she'd expected him to say. Thank God. The last thing she wanted was to squeeze on to a commuter sweatbox and deal with the inevitable delays and poor hygiene. But she knew how to play the game, and gave him an obligatory scowl.
     
     
"Look, pal, this is police business. You're just along for the ride, and possible out-of-town nookie."
     
     
"All nookie is appreciated, but the method of transpo's a deal breaker. I'll pick you up when I arrange things hue. And if you argue, you'll just put me behind." He checked his wrist unit. "I'll let you know when I'm on my way." And clicked off.
     
     
That, she thought, went perfectly.
     
     
Shortly after five she was seated comfortably in Roarke's private shuttle, nibbling on strawberries and studying her notes in the fragrant cool. As rides went, it beat.. the hell out of the public sardine cans.
     
     
"You can go along for the interview with Roberta Gable," she told Roarke. `But then I have to ditch you. I talked to the primary with Boston PD, and he'll take a meet with me, but he's cranky about it. I bring a civilian along, he's going to get crankier."
     
     
"I believe I can find something to occupy me." He was working manually at one of the onboard computers and didn't glance up.
     
     
"Figure you will, and I also figure that the shuffling you did had to be fast and furious. Thanks."
     
     
"I expect to be paid in out-of-town nookie at the first opportunity."
     
     
"You're a cheap date, Roarke."
     
     
He smiled, but kept on working. "We'll see about that. Oh, and by the way, your token protest about taking my shuttle lacked a certain panache. You might put a little more effort into it next time."
     
     
She bit down on a strawberry. "I don't know what you're talking about." And was saved from further comment by the beep of her 'link. "Dallas."
     
     
"Hey, kid, got a couple bumps. Figured you'd want to know while you were in transit." Feeney's droopy eyes narrowed. "You eating strawberries?"
     
     
"Maybe." She swallowed guiltily. "I missed lunch. So what? Give."
     
     
"First one's messy, maybe too messy to be our guy. Mutilated body of an LC, female, twenty-eight, fished out, of the river. The Seine. That's gay Paree. Three years ago June. Cut to pieces, with liver and kidneys missing. Throat cut, and a number of defensive wounds on forearms. She was in the river too long for them to recover any trace evidence, had there been any. Investigation dead-ended, and the case remains open."
     
     
"Any suspects?"
     
     
"Investigator pushed on the last john on her books, but it didn't pan out. Did a press on her coordinator, too, who's got a known for roughing up his employees, but that fizzled out, too."
     
     
"Okay. What else?"
     
     
"Two years ago, London, Ripper-style murder in Whitechapel sector. Junked up LC who slipped through the tox screenings. She was thirty-six, had two female roommates of the same occupation. They tried to finger her on-again, off again boyfriend for it, but he was alibied tight. Looks clear to me."
     
     
`How'd he do her?'
     
     
"Slit her throat. Went for her works again, and said works were not recovered on the scene. He also cut her up. Slashes over the breasts, palms of both hands. Investigator puts it