In Death 30 - Fantasy in Death

ways in and out, the basic security measures, the movements of staff, ID. Decent, she concluded, but there were always ways around security.
    She badged the nurse at the desk, pleased when the man didn’t merely glance at it, but gave it a good hard look before passing her through.
    As in U-Play, the walls were glass. No privacy for patients, she thought. Cill wouldn’t like it, Eve concluded, but for herself, she liked it just fine. Each room, each patient was monitored by cam and machine. She doubted any of the staff paid much attention to the room screens, but expected they’d hop if any of the monitors signaled a change in patient condition.
    Still, she was pleased to see the uniformed officer sitting with his chair angled to the door. He rose when she walked in.
    “Take five,” she told him.
    “Yes, sir.”
    Eve moved to the foot of the bed. They’d caged the leg, the arm, she noted, which made Eve think of a droid in mid-development. The limbs inside the cages showed the livid red and purple of insult and repair. Tubes snaked, hooking Cill to monitors that hummed and beeped in a slow, steady rhythm. The bruising around her eyes showed black against pasty white skin, and the lacework of bandages.
    They’d shaved her head, Eve noted, and had it resting on a gel pillow that would ease the pressure. All that hair, Eve mused. That would probably be as much of a jolt as the glass walls and cams.
    If she woke up.
    “I’ve gotten messed up a few times, but I have to say, you win the prize. Coming back from being put together again’s got to be almost as hard as being busted to pieces. We’ll see how tough you are.”
    She walked over to the side of the bed, leaned down. “Don’t you fucking give up. I know who did this to you. I know who killed Bart. I’m going after him, and I’m going to win. Then he’s going to pay. You remember that, and don’t you fucking give up. We’re going to beat him, you by coming back from this, me by taking him down.” She straightened. “He was never your friend. You remember that, too.”
    She stood watch until the guard came back.
    And when the partners went in to see her, Eve stood watch a little longer, studying them on the monitor.
     
    “Do you think she’ll make it?” Peabody asked when Eve got behind the wheel.
    “She’s not the giving-up type. That’s in her favor. Reserve a conference room and set up a briefing with the EDD team. Thirty minutes. No, give me an hour.” Eve used her in-dash ’link while Peabody made arrangements.
    “Lieutenant,” Roarke said.
    “She’s out of surgery, holding her own.”
    “That’s good to hear. You spoke with her surgeon?”
    “Yeah. They’re doing what they do. Now we’ll do what we do. Can you meet me in my office in twenty?”
    “I can, yes.”
    “Bring an open mind.”
    He smiled a little. “I always carry it with me.”
    “You’ll need it.”
    “We’re set,” Peabody told her. “Room B. You’ve got something.” Peabody pointed a finger. “Something new.”
    “What I’ve got is a dead guy without a head, a woman in critical with injuries consistent with a fall who was found on a holo-room floor. No weapons, no trace, and no security breaches the aces at EDD can find. Logic it out.”
    “The weapons were removed, the killer sealed up. The victims knew and trusted the killer who has supreme e-skills that have so far baffled our e-team. They’ll find the breaches.”
    “Assuming they’re there to be found. He miscalculated with Cill. She wasn’t supposed to fall.”
    “Fall where?”
    “That’s a question, and we may never have the full answer to that one unless she wakes up and tells us. Meanwhile, we think out of the box. Fuck. We burn the damn box.”
    She pulled into the garage at Central. “Set up everything we have, including the scans and data we got from the hospital.”
    “Okay, but—”
    “Less talk, more work.”
    Eve double-timed it to her office and began to put her briefing together. She scowled at her computer and wished for better e-skills. She wanted to have at least the bones together before Roarke got there.
    “Okay, you bastard, let’s give this a try.” She sat, and using the medical data began to build a reenactment.
    Marginally pleased, she nodded at the screen as Roarke came in.
    “Do you want the good news or the bad?” he asked her.
    “Give me the bad. I like to end on an up note.”
    “We’ve scanned, dug, taken apart, and put back together