In Death 20 - Survivor in Death

his attention still on Eve.
    “As per her instructions, I’m informing the lieutenant that Captain Feeney and Detective McNab are requesting entrance at the gate.”
    “You verify ID visually and by voice print?” she asked Summerset.
    “Of course.”
    “They’re cleared to come through. I want to go talk to my team,” she said to Roarke. “Okay if that includes you?”
    “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Give me a couple of minutes to finish in here. I’ll be along.”
    She walked to the elevator, stood looking at the door when it opened at her command. “Roarke? The thing is about probabilities, they don’t always factor in every element. They can’t fully and successfully analyze every human emotion. The computer doesn’t factor in that if someone got to you, it would take me down. If they used you, bargained your life, there isn’t much I wouldn’t do to get you back. So you factor that in, and I figure you’ve cut ahead of me on the probability scale.”
    She entered the elevator quickly, closed the door before he could respond.
    Eve let them settle in first, go through the chatter, the greed for food. She even ignored the cooing flirtation between her partner and EDD ace Ian McNab, the recent cohabs.
    The fact was, Peabody’s color had been off since they’d hauled up the steps to interview Minnie. The cooing, however unseemly, had her pinked up again.
    And while they settled, Eve organized the conference in her head.
    “Okay, boys and girls.” She remained standing. She handled such meetings better on her feet. “If everyone’s had their afternoon snack, maybe we can get started.”
    “Uptown grub.” McNab scooped up the last of leftover apple pie.
    His skinny frame was festooned--Eve figured that was the word for it--in a neon orange skin-tank with sizzling blue pants that had some sort of silver clamps running up the outside of each leg. The over shirt was a headache of dots, outdone only by the glowing checks covering his airboots.
    His shining blond hair was pulled back from his thin, pretty face. The better to show off the trio of orange and blue coils adorning each ear.
    “I’m glad you approve, Detective. Now maybe you can give your report. Unless, of course, you’d like seconds.”
    Sarcasm, even delivered in mild tones, could hit like a hammer. He swallowed the last of the pie quickly. “No, sir. Our team has reviewed and completed search-and-scans on all ‘links, all d and c’s owned or used by any and all of the vies, and the survivor. We found no transmissions on the ‘links other than ordinary communications from and to the Swishers and their domestic. While there were numerous transmissions over the last thirty days, they check. Friends, clients, each other, personal and business transmissions. A list of all, with transcription, is now on disc for your file.”
    “Thirty days?”
    “The Swishers cleared their ‘links every thirty. That’s common. We’re digging in, and will retrieve the deleted transmissions prior to the thirty. As to the data centers, the files are pretty much what you’d expect.”
    “What would I expect, Detective?”
    He was warming up, she could see, losing the stiffness her reprimand had caused. He slouched more comfortably in his chair and began to gesture as he spoke. “You know, Dallas, games, to-do lists, meal planning, appointments, birthday reminders. Family stuff, school stuff, upcoming vacation data. Got case files from each of the adult’s business units, comments, reports, financials. Nothing pops out. If they had trouble, or suspected they might have trouble, they didn’t make a record of it. They didn’t discuss it with anyone via ‘link.”
    He glanced toward the murder board, the death photos, and his eyes--a misty green--hardened. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with that family the last few days. My opinion--from their electronic records and transmissions--they didn’t have a clue.”
    She nodded, shifted to Feeney. Beside the fashionable McNab, he looked blessedly dull. “Security.”
    “Bypassed and shut down. Remote and at site. Diagnostic scan couldn’t locate the source, but when we took the system apart we found microscopic particles--fiber-optic traces. They hooked in--portable code breaker, most likely. Had to be prime equipment to read the code, to get through the failsafes without tripping any alarm. Equipment and operator had to be prime to do it in the time frame we’re working with.