In Death 26 - Strangers in Death

you do it? You’re used to it.”
    “No, I can’t do it, and you need to get used to it.”
    “I don’t know what to wear.”
    “Oh sweet, suffering Christ.” Eve pressed her fingers against the twitching muscle beside her eye. “Window, Peabody. Headfirst.”
    “You couldn’t fit me through that stupid window.”
    “Let’s find out.”
    “Okay, okay, okay. Now my head’s all screwed up.”
    “Unscrew it. We’ve got a few matters just a smidge more important than your date night and on-air debut. The vic was tranqed twice .”
    “What—who. Wait.” Closing her eyes, Peabody took several deep breaths. “Anders. Okay, I’m back. Anders was tranqed?”
    “Pressure syringe.” Eve tapped her finger on the side of her neck. “Heavy dose of barbs, enough to knock out a horse. There were also traces of a sleep aid, standard over-the-counter. Preliminary take is this was ingested, probably three to four hours before TOD. The combo dropped him out. The killer could’ve performed brain surgery on him, and Anders wouldn’t have noticed.”
    “Why not just give him a fatal dose? Why the big show?”
    “Good question, and one of the reasons I haven’t yet thrown you headfirst out the window. The show was as important as the murder. Disgrace? Revenge? A discarded lover who wanted him to pay? Is it smart, or is it sloppy?”
    Peabody considered that over another chip. “If you wanted it to come off as it looked on the surface—accidental death due to erotic asphyxiation—you don’t load him up with barbs. Maybe a mild tranq, sure, to disorient him while you do the bondage. Take your time after that, set the scene, let the tranq wear off some. If you’re going to go to all that trouble, it seems like you want him to suffer. If you want him to suffer, why knock him out so he can’t?”
    “More good questions. You’re redeeming yourself. I’m going to send the file to Dr. Mira. I’d like her profile and opinion on this. Could be the killer overdid the barbs. He had a massive dose of erectile enhancer in there, too.
    “It feels personal, but let’s run it through IRCCA for like crimes. We’ll start trying to run down the restraints, the tranq. And we’ll do a second level on financials. Forrest and the widow are the most likely to benefit financially. They’ve both got a solid base on their own, but who doesn’t like more? And let’s look for old and current lovers. Guy waits until he’s well into his forties to do the marriage thing, he probably didn’t say I do without banging a few prospects first.”
    “I can give EDD another goose, see if we’ve got anything there.”
    “I want copies of any transmissions between the vic and his wife, his nephew. Have them round up the ’links from his office.”
    “Lieutenant?” Trueheart, Baxter’s young and studly aide, tapped lightly on the doorjamb. “Sorry to interrupt your lunch, but there’s an Edmond Luce out here. He wants to talk to you regarding the Anders case. Seems pretty worked up, and…a lot British.”
    Eve dumped the remains of her wrap onto Peabody’s plate, shoved her own into the recycler. “Give me a minute, then send him back.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Ditch this stuff, Peabody, then goose EDD, and give one to the lab while you’re at it. Minimum, I want a report of any and all medications and enhancements taken from the scene.”
    “On that.” Gathering up the rest of the remains, Peabody headed out.
    “Computer, standard bio run on Luce, Edmond, British, with business or personal connection to Anders, Thomas A., of Anders Worldwide. Display only.”
    Acknowledged. Working…
    While she waited, Eve sent the case file and a quick memo to Dr. Charlotte Mira, the department’s top profiler.
    Task complete. Data displayed.
    Eve scanned quickly, looking for the quick overview. Luce, London-born, was seventy-six, and served as Anders Worldwide’s CEO, Great Britain. Oxford education, homes in London and in New York. Married, with one previous divorce, three children. One from first marriage.
    “Copy data to file,” she ordered when she heard approaching footsteps. “End display.”
    Acknowledged. Tasks complete.
    She swiveled to face the doorway as it was filled with a big, burly bear of a man with a shock of hair the color of good sterling and eyes of nearly black that sparked off something approaching rage.
    He wore khaki trousers with pleats sharp enough to draw blood and a navy V neck over a white shirt.