In Death 21 - Origin in Death

her. "And have a look."
    She scowled at her screen as he turned his 'link so she could view the empty vault. "Great. Terrific. Hit her offices next, pass anything you find to Feeney."
    "Happy to oblige. Oh, Lieutenant, you might want to yank out whatever foreign entity's crawled up your ass before it ruins the line of your suit."
    "I'm too busy to be amused." She snapped off the 'link, the-marched into the theater. "I want Diana Rodriguez," she told Mira. "in a private area."
    "There's a small lounge one level down."
    "Fine. Bring her." As she walked away, Eve took out her communicator. "Peabody. Report."
    "Computer match on Flavia and Frost. No result, as yet, on the APB out on her or the vehicle. I'm checking all transpo stations within a hundred-mile radius."
    Eve took a moment, cleared her mind. "Check on any flights leaving any local stations for New York City and the Hamptons. You have the list of other properties under the Icove name?"
    "Yes, sir."
    "Add them. Whatever you find, we need passenger lists. We need all private transpos to all or any of those locations."
    "On that."
    Eve broke off, beeped Feeney. "Give me something."
    "Working on it. School's units have layers, more shields than the frigging Pentagon. But we're knocking them out. Might have something for you on the exterior cams. Maybe a partial on the driver."
    "I'll take it. Send it to me."
    "Let me play with it a little first. See if I can clean it up and enhance."
    "ASAP, then."
    She was calmer, Eve decided. That was good. The go-round with Mira had stirred her up. And had stirred up emotions and memories she'd worked viciously to suppress throughout the investigation. Couldn't afford them, she reminded herself as she hunted up the lounge. Couldn't afford to think about what she'd been, where she'd been, what had been done to her.
    The lounge was bright, cheerful, equipped with choice vending machines, three AutoChefs, long, clean counters, colorful tables and comfortable chairs. There was an entertainment unit, and she noted a prime selection of vids.
    She'd been kept in dirty rooms, often in the dark. Denied food. Denied companionship.
    But a silk-lined cage, she thought, was still a cage.
    She eyed one of the vending machines. She needed a hit, but there was no one around to run interference between her and the evil machine. She studied it, jingling loose credits in her pocket.
    She'd nearly cracked when she heard footsteps. Instead, she settled at one of the colorful tables and waited.
    The kid was a beauty. Gleaming dark hair, deep, dark eyes. Her fact would fine down more, Eve supposed, lose some of the roundness of youth. She wasn't quite gangly, but was closing in on that stage.
    "Diana, this is Lieutenant Dallas."
    "Good afternoon, Lieutenant."
    Eve dug out the credits. "Hey, kid, why don't you get us something to drink. Whatever you want. I'll have a Pepsi. Doctor?"
    "I'm fine, thank you."
    At least someone else had a foreign entity up her butt, Eve thought
    "I have academic and athletic credit," Diana said as she approached Vending. "I'm happy to use them for our drinks. Diana Rodriguez," she said to the machine. "Blue Level 505. One Pepsi and one orange fizzv please. I have a guest."
    Good afternoon, Diana. Request granted. Your credits will be deducted.
    "Would you like a glass and ice, Lieutenant Dallas?"
    "No, just the tube, thanks."
    Diana brought both tubes to the table, sat, her movements neat and efficient. "Dr. Mira said you needed to speak to me about what happened to Ms. Samuels."
    "That's right. Do you know what happened to Ms. Samuels?"
    "She was killed." Her voice remained polite, without a single tremor of upset or excitement. "Her personal assistant, Abigail, found her dead in her private quarters at about eleven-thirty this morning. Abigail was very upset, and she screamed. I was on the stairs, and I saw her run out and scream. Everything was very confused for a while, then the police came."
    "What were you doing on the stairs?"
    "We'd made soufflés earlier today in culinary science. I had a question I wanted to ask my instructor."
    "You were nearby earlier that morning, and spoke with Ms. Samuels."
    "Yes, that was when I was leaving culinary science for my next class, Philosophy. Ms. Samuels was greeting a guest in the great hall."
    "Did you know the guest?"
    "I'd never met her before." Diana paused, took a small, tidy sip of her drink. "Ms. Samuels introduced her as Mrs. Frost, and said that Mrs. Frost was