In Death 04 - Rapture in Death

computer code.
    Eve sat on the edge of the desk. She didn't want to fit her wiry build into the imprint left by Reeanna's. Pulling out her communicator, she tagged Peabody.
    "Anything?"
    "Devane's son is willing to cooperate. He's aware of the interest she had in games, particularly role playing. It wasn't an interest he shared, but he claims he knows one of her usual partners. He dated her for a short time. I've got her name. She lives right here in New York. I have the data. Should I transmit?"
    "I think you can handle an interview solo. Arrange a meet, bring her in only if she refuses to cooperate. Report back."
    "Yes, sir." Peabody's voice remained sober, but her eyes lighted with the assignment. "I'm on my way."
    Satisfied, Eve tried for Feeney, hit his frequency occupied recording. She had to settle for leaving a request for contact.
    The door opened. Reeanna stopped her rush inside when she spotted Eve at her desk. "Oh, Eve. I didn't expect you quite yet."
    "Time's part of my problem."
    "I see." She smiled, let the door shut. "I suppose Roarke cleared you in."
    "I guess he did. Problem?"
    "No, no." Reeanna waved her hand. "I'm distracted, I suppose. William went on endlessly about some glitches he's concerned about. I left him brooding over his creme brulee." She flicked a glance toward her humming computer. "The work never stops around here. R and D's a twenty-four/seven proposition." She smiled. "Like police work, I imagine. Well, I didn't take time for brandy. Would you like some?"
    "No, thanks. On duty."
    "Coffee then." Reeanna moved over to a counter, requested a snifter of brandy, a cup of black coffee. "You'll have to excuse my lack of focus. We're a little behind schedule today. Roarke needed data on the new VR model, and he wanted it from conception to implementation."
    "That was yours. I didn't realize that until he mentioned it just now."
    "Oh, William's mostly. Though I had a small part. Now." She handed Eve the coffee, then took her brandy around the desk to sit. "What can I do for you?"
    "I'm hoping you'll agree to that consult. The subject is currently in custody, now lawyered, but I don't think we'll be blocked there. I need a profile, angling from your particular area of expertise."
    "Genetic branding." Reeanna tapped her fingers. "Interesting. What are the charges?"
    "I'm not free to discuss that until I have your agreement and clear the session with my commander. Once that's done, I'd like the testing scheduled for seven hundred."
    "Seven a.m.?" Reeanna winced. "Ouch. And here I'm a night owl rather than a lark. You want me up and running at that hour, give me some incentive." She smiled a little. "I can assume you've already had Mira test your subject -- and the results weren't to your liking."
    "Second opinions aren't unusual." It was a defensive answer. She felt defensive. And, Eve realized, she felt guilty.
    "No, but Dr. Mira's reports are sterling, and they're very rarely questioned. You want him badly."
    "I want the truth badly. To find it, I have to separate theory and lies and deceptions." She pushed off the desk. "Look, I thought you were interested in doing this sort of thing."
    "I am, very. But I like to know what I'm dealing with. I'd need the subject's brain scan."
    "I've got it. In evidence."
    "Really?" Her eyes gleamed, catlike. "It's also important to have all available data on his biological parents. Are they known?"
    "We accessed that data for Dr. Mira's test. It'll be available to you."
    Reeanna leaned back, swirling her brandy. "It must be murder." Her lips twitched at Eve's expression. "After all, that's your field. The study of the taking of lives."
    "You could put it that way."
    "How do you put it?"
    "The investigation of the takers."
    "Yes, yes, but in order to do so, you study the dead -- and death itself. How it happened, what caused it, what transpired in those last moments between the taker and the victim. Fascinating. What kind of personality is required to study death routinely, day after day, year after year, as a vocation? Does it scar you, Eve, or harden you?"
    "It pisses you off," she said shortly. "And I don't have time to philosophize."
    "Sorry, bad habit." Reeanna let out a sigh. "William tells me I analyze everything to death." She smiled. "Not that it's a crime -- that sort of murder. And I am interested in assisting you. Call your commander," she invited. "I'll wait and see if clearance is forthcoming. Then we can go over details."
    "I appreciate it."