In Death 29 - Kindred in Death

MacMasters’s death. That disturbs me.”
    She paused, shook her head as if impatient. “No, that’s not accurate. It pisses me off. If the person who killed that girl is associated with Columbia, you can believe I want to find out. I want to offer any assistance I can.”
    “I appreciate your cooperation.”
    “My paternal grandfather was a cop.”
    Eve’s eyebrows lifted. “Is that so?”
    “In St. Paul. His stories fascinated me as a child. He retired a Detective-Inspector. We were very proud of him. Lieutenant.” Peach folded her hands on the desk. “I believe in law and in order—and in a very dry martini. I also believe in this university, what it stands for. Darian and Jamie are what it stands for. Darian is sick with guilt and worry. Jamie, though I haven’t spoken to him, is probably sick with grief. You, Lieutenant, have a reputation for getting things done, and kicking whatever ass needs to be kicked to do it. So do I. This office, and any office or facility at this university are at your disposal.”
    “That’s quite an offer.”
    Now Peach edged forward and those eyes were frosted glass. “I saw the morning reports on the murder.”
    “So it’s out.”
    “They didn’t have much, but enough. They showed her photo.”
    “I hope to have an artist’s rendering of the suspect by end of day. That may lead to a name and location, but unless he’s in the system already, something like that can take a great deal of time. Do you have imaging programs?”
    “We do.”
    “It’s possible he was a student here at one time, or employed here. It’s possible that if you ran that artist’s rendition through imaging with your database of student and staff IDs, you could match him before we do.”
    “I’ll arrange it.”
    “It can’t be done by anyone on staff. I need a cop to do it. That would take a warrant without your permission and approval on record.”
    “You’ll have both.”
    “That certainly cuts through the bullshit.”
    This time Peach flashed a brilliant grin. “One of my best skills and favorite occupations.”
    “Well then, when we have the sketch I’ll have an EDD man report here for that duty.”
    “I’ll clear it.”
    “I believe the suspect hacked into your student files in April, added his data, or the data he wished, so that any check would show him as a student here. He would have removed that data on or about the day of the murder. A good e-man might be able to find those hacks, and trace.”
    Peach blew out a breath. “All right. It will be a lot of tedious work, I imagine.”
    “That’s a good portion of what we do. Tedium.”
    “Understood. Not so different from what I do. I suppose I was hoping for something more immediate and exciting.”
    “Then you didn’t listen to your grandfather’s stories very closely.”
    She smiled again. “I suspect he juiced them up. Still you get juice. I’m looking forward to reading Nadine Furst’s book on the Icove case.”
    “Hmm.” Eve got to her feet.
    “Lieutenant. While I do believe in law and order, in education and in that dry martini, I also believe in youth—its potential and its brevity, its marvelous thirst. I’m very sorry about Deena MacMasters, very sorry that youth was taken, and that potential ended.”
    “So are we all.”
    Peach handed Eve a card. “My contact information, including my personal ’link. Please use it if you need anything.”
    “Thank you, Dr. Lapkoff.”
    “Call me Peach.”

10
    AS SHE CROSSED THE GREEN EVE REACHED FOR her pocket ’link to check if Mira was on site or close, then spotted her. The police psychiatrist and top pro-filer sat in the white stream of sunlight on the wide ledge of a grand fountain. She wore shades with bold pink frames. Eve wasn’t sure she’d ever seen the elegant Mira in shades, much less any so frivolously female. Her face tipped up to the sun, her hair scooped back to wave at her nape and expose the multi-colored dangles at her ears, Mira looked absolutely relaxed and perfectly at home with the casual summer pace of the campus.
    A faint smile softened a face lovely in repose while the water spilled musically from stone tier to stone tier behind her. Her excellent legs were crossed, exposed by the knee-length skirt of a suit the color of vanilla cream. Sassy open-toed shoes in the same tone boasted needle-thin heels. Beside her sat a petal pink handbag large enough to swallow a toddler.
    Eve wondered if Mira slept, and if she should poke