In Death 21 - Origin in Death

laughter.
    "My wife." Icove cleared his throat, gestured with his chin toward the portrait Eve studied. "My father had it done for me as a wedding gift. He was like a father to Avril, too. I don't know how we'll get through this."
    "Was she a patient-client?"
    "Avril." Icove smiled up at the portrait. "No. Just blessed."
    "Big-time. Dr. Icove, do you know this woman?" Eve handed him a hard copy of the image Peabody had printed out from her hand unit.
    "No. I don't recognize her. This woman killed my father? Why? For God's sake, why?"
    "We don't know that she killed anyone, but we do believe she was, at least, the last person to see him alive. Her information indicates she's a citizen of Spain. Resides in Barcelona. Have you or your father connections to that country?"
    "We have clients all over the world, and off planet as well. We don't have formal facilities in Barcelona, but I-and my father-have traveled extensively to consult when the case warrants."
    "Dr. Icove, a facility like this, with its various arms and endorsements, its consultations, generates a powerful amount of income."
    "Yes."
    "Your father was a very wealthy man."
    "Without question."
    "And you're his only son. His heir, I assume."
    There was a beat of silence. Slowly, with great care, Icove lowered himself into a chair. "You think I'd kill my own father, for money r"
    "It would be helpful if we could eliminate that area of investigation."
    "I'm already a very wealthy man myself." He bit off the words as his color rose. "Yes, I'll inherit a great deal more, as will my wife and my children. Other substantial sums will go to various charities, and to the Wilfred B. Icove Foundation. I want to request another investigator on this matter immediately."
    "You can," Eve said easily. "You won't get one. And you'll be asked exactly the same questions. If you want your father's murderer brought to justice, Dr. Icove, you'll cooperate."
    "I want you to find this woman, this Alverez woman. I want to see her face, to look into her eyes. To know why-"
    He broke off, shook his head. "I loved my father. Everything I have, everything I am, began with him. Someone took him from me, from his grandchildren. From the world."
    "Does it bother you to be known as Dr. Will rather than your full title?"
    "Oh, for God's sake." This time he put his head in his hands. "No. Only the staff call me that. It's convenient, less confusing."
    Won't be any confusion anymore, Eve thought. But if Dr. Will had plotted and planned and paid for his father's death, he was wasting his time in the medical field. He'd double his fortune in vids.
    "Your field is competitive," Eve began. "Can you think of a reason why someone might want to eliminate some of the competition?"
    "I can't." He left his head in his hands. "I can hardly think at all. I want my wife, and my children. But this facility will continue without my father. He built it to last, he built toward the future. He always looked ahead. There was nothing to be gained by his death. Nothing."
    There's always something, Eve thought as they headed back to Central. Spite, financial gain, thrills, emotional satisfaction. Murder always offered a reward. Why else would it remain so popular?
    "Round us up, Peabody."
    "Respected, even revered physician, one of the fathers of reconstructive surgery as we know it in this century, is killed, efficiently and in a controlled manner in his office. An office in a facility that has strong security. Our primary suspect for this crime is a woman who walked into that office, by appointment, and left again in a timely fashion. While reputedly a citizen and resident of Spain, she has no passport on record. The address given on her official documentation does not exist."
    "Conclusions?"
    "Our primary suspect is a professional, or a talented amateur, who used a false name and information to gain entry to the victim's office. Motive, as yet, murky."
    "Murky?"
    "Well, yeah. It sounds chillier than unknown, and like we're going to clear the air and see it."
    "How'd she get the weapon through security?"
    "Well." Peabody looked out the window, through the rain to an animated billboard celebrating vacation packages for sun-washed beaches. "There's always a way around security-but why risk it? Place like that has to have scalpels around. Could've got an assist on the inside, had one planted. Or she might've gotten in at another time, copped one, planted it herself. They've got tight security, yeah, but they've also