In Death 24 - Innocent in Death

shuttle for Siberia.”
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    “Sounds good.” She stopped at a light, scrubbed her hands over her face. “Can’t do it, can’t touch her, can’t beat her to death with a hammer and bury her in White Plains.”
    “Bloomfield would be better than White Plains anyway.”
    It got a weak laugh. “I don’t know how to do this, how hard to push him, how far to stand back. I don’t know the steps and strategy. I think I’ve already screwed up.”
    “Dallas? I think you should tell him this hurts you.”
    “I’ve never had to tell him something like that before. He sees stuff in me before I have to.” She shook her head. “It’s fucking me up. It’s fucking us up. And I’ve got to put it away and do my job.”
    She ran down her conversation with Lissette Foster, and the deletion of the key ingredient in the contents of the go-cup.
    “So it indicates that the poison was added to the drink prior to coming into the school, and most likely in a dupe vessel.”
    “Well…” Peabody juggled it in her head. “Poison’s a method females opt for more often than males.”
    “Statistically, yeah.”
    “According to Lissette, Mirri Hallywell knew about the key ingredient. What if, knowing we’d cop to the recipe, she deliberately left it out. Lissette would end up being her alibi.”
    “Convoluted,” Eve mused. “But not impossible.”
    “Or Lissette could have left it out deliberately, same reason. And yeah,” Peabody said before Eve could comment, “it doesn’t bounce very well.”
    “If you don’t toss the ball, it never bounces. We’ll keep the possibilities in the mix.”
    Eve angled toward the curb, and when she got out it did her spirits good to see the disdain in the doorman’s eagle eyes.
    “Can’t leave that heap there, lady.”
    “Hey, you know how many sexual favors my partner here had to promise to score that ride?”
    “You were supposed to perform them,” Peabody reminded her.
     
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    “Maybe I’ll get around to that. Meanwhile…” She pulled out her badge. “You’re going to watch over that heap like it was an XR-5000, fresh off the showroom floor. And you’re going to buzz up and tell-Who are we seeing here, Peabody?”
    “The Fergusons.”
    “You’re going to tell the Fergusons that we’ve come to chat.”
    “Mr. Ferguson’s already left the building this morning. Breakfast meeting. Mrs.
    Ferguson’s still inside.”
    “Then get hopping.”
    He looked none too pleased, but rang the apartment and cleared them inside.
    Into chaos.
    Eileen Ferguson had a child of indeterminate age on her hip. He had some sort of pink goo circling his mouth and was wearing footed pajamas decorated with grinning dinosaurs.
    Eve figured if dinosaurs grinned it was because dinner was about to be served. So why did adults decorate their offspring with carnivores? She’d never get it.
    In the background came screams and barks and whoops that may have been glee or terror.
    Eileen herself wore a rust-colored sweater, loose black pants, and fuzzy slippers the color of cotton candy. Her brown hair was slicked back in a long tail and her eyes, a quiet hazel, seemed eerily calm given the noise level.
    Eve wondered if she’d toked before answering the door.
    “This must be about Craig Foster. Come in at your own risk.” She stepped back. “Martin Edward Ferguson, Dillon Wyatt Hadley.” She didn’t shout, but her voice, perfectly pleasant, carried. “Settle down right now, or I’ll dismantle that dog and shove the parts into the recycler. Sorry, coffee?” she said to Eve and Peabody.
    “Ah, no.”
    “Dog’s a droid-terrier mix. I had a moment of complete insanity and bought it for Martin for his birthday. And now, we pay the price.”
    But Eve noted that the noise level had dropped. Perhaps, at one time or another, other items had found their way into Eileen’s recycler.
    “Have a seat. I’ll just put Annie in her chair.”
     
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    The chair was a round and colorful deal with dozens of bright buttons and rolling things to entertain curious fingers. It beeped and it buzzed and let out what Eve thought was a fairly creepy chuckle. But Annie was immediately engaged.
    “Word is that Mr. Foster was poisoned.” Eileen dropped into a black scoop chair. “Is that true?”
    “We’ve determined Mr. Foster ingested a poisonous substance, yes.”
    “Just tell me, is it safe for me to take these kids to school?”
    “We have no reason to believe the students are in any