In Death 21 - Origin in Death

"Lieutenant Dallas, we're Avril Icove," they said together.
    "Hands behind your heads, turn and face the wall."
    "We're unarmed," they said.
    "Hands behind your heads," Eve repeated levelly. "Turn and face the wall."
    They obeyed, their movements in synch. Eve took out her communicator. "Peabody, secure the witness. Bring her down now."
    "On our way."
    Eve patted each of them down. Weird, she thought, to feel exactly the same shape, the same textures.
    "We've come to answer your questions," the one on the right told her.
    "We'll waive the right to an attorney at this time." Both glanced over their shoulders. "We'll give you full cooperation."
    "That'll be peachy."
    They glanced up, toward the stairs, and each smiled.
    "Oh wow." Peabody's voice had a kick that was both shock and excitement. "Surreal Town."
    Eve waited while the woman with Peabody took her place with the others. "Which one of you is Avril Icove of this address?"
    "We are Avril Icove. We're the same."
    "Yeah." Eve cocked her head. "This is going to be some party. In.” She gestured to the living area. "Sit. Quiet."
    They moved the same, she noted. She couldn't detect the slightest difference in rhythm or stride.
    "What do we do now?" Peabody spoke in undertones, her eyes locked on the three women.
    "Change of venue, for one. We can't take them into Central, not on Code Blue. We take them out quickly, discreetly, to my place. We'll set up there. Contact Whitney. He's going to want to be in on this." She pulled out her 'link, called home.
    "Moving to Plan B here," she told Roarke.
    "Which is?"
    "Working on that. I'm going to need a contained interview area and a secondary area for observation. I'm bringing in ... Better just show you."
    She turned her 'link, panned the three women who sat together on the sofa.
    "Ah. That's interesting."
    "Yeah, I'm riveted. We're coming now."
    She pocketed her 'link, holstered her weapon. "Here's how it's going to work. The three of you are going out, getting directly into the rear of my vehicle. Any one of you tries to resist or run, you're all going to spend the night in a cage. You'll be taken to a secure location where the interview will be conducted. You're not under arrest at this point, but you are under obligation to attend this interview. You each have the right to remain silent."
    They did so as she recited the Revised Miranda.
    "Do you understand your rights and obligations?"
    "We do." Their voices blended like one.
    "Peabody, let's move it out."
    There was no resistance. Each slid gracefully into the waiting car, linked hands. And spoke not a word.
    Did they communicate telepathically? Eve wondered as she got behind the wheel. Or did they have to communicate at all? Were their thoughts simply the same thoughts?
    That didn't work for her, but it was a hell of a puzzle.
    Clever of them, she decided, to have coordinated the outfits. Gave the observer a bigger jolt and merged them into a unit. It'd be wise to remember they were smart women.
    Intelligence had been one of Icove's prerequisites in his work. Maybe if he hadn't insisted his creations be so smart, he'd still be alive.
    She signaled Peabody to remain silent as well and began to outline her strategies.
    "You have a remarkable home," one of them said when Eve drove through the gates.
    The next smiled. "We've always wanted to see the inside."
    "Even," the third finished, "under such unusual circumstances."
    Rather than respond, Eve continued up the drive, then parked in front of the house. She and Peabody flanked the trio and escorted them to the door.
    Roarke opened it himself. "Ladies," he said, smooth as ever.
    "Secured?"
    He glanced at Eve. "Yes. If you'd come this way."
    He took them to the foyer elevator, a snug fit for six. "Level-three meeting room," he ordered.
    Eve wasn't sure she knew they had a level-three meeting room, but kept that information to herself as the elevator began to glide.
    When the doors opened she recognized the area, vaguely, as one Roarke used on occasions when he had live or holo-meetings too large to suit his office space.
    There was a glossy conference table in the center of the room, with. two seating areas on either end. A long, gleaming bar rode one wall, backed with sparkling mirrors. On its opposite was a data and communication center.
    "Sit," Eve ordered. "And wait. Peabody, stand for the moment." She gestured to Roarke and walked out with him into the hall.
    "Observation behind the mirrors?"
    "There, yes. Also the