Page 45 of Fury In Death

When they finally reached the garage, she headed straight to the car.

“You brief Callendar on the way. We’re looking for connections, patterns. How did the assailant get to the victim, how did he gain access? If there’s home or building security, was it bypassed, and if so, how?”

“I got it. Dallas, they wouldn’t bring us in on this unless the victim was beat to crap and back again. Baxter and Trueheart were up, and clear.”

“Agreed. But we go in without preconceived.”

She wanted to pace, wanted to get going, and glanced toward the elevator a few times.

Then it opened and Callendar emerged, bold and bright in baggies of screaming red, a shirt that looked like one of those weird paintings kids did with their fingers, and a hip-length jacket striped with red and brilliant blue.

Eve supposed the shirt sort of matched whatever Callendar had done to her hair, as the bouncing bob held every color in a bizarre rainbow and in wild swirls and streaks.

“Elevators jammed, one of the glides went down, so jammed. Sorry.”

“You were quick enough. Peabody’s going to brief you.”

“I’ll jump in the back with you. Love the new do!”

“Yeah, I bounced into Trina’s on my day off and said go for it. She totally did.”

Eve pulled out of the garage, waited, judged, then zipped into traffic.

“McNab gave me a little, and it’s making the rounds anyway. DB, beat into a nasty puddle, no weapon used. Science guy, right? Maybe a droid illegally and crazily programmed? Science guys can push boundaries.”

“Low on that.”

Eve tuned them out, concentrated on traffic and making time through it.

“Banner-Wyst.” Callendar pursed magenta lips. “I have a friend—medical girl—she did some time in like the Sudan and Kenya, I think, working with them, for them? Whichever. Said it was rough, but rewarding. Except she said, seems to me, she didn’t like how they had acquisition types wheeling and dealing for land, property, and recruitment types making pitches to the locals for work, and usually somewhere else.”

Eve tuned back in.

“When was this?”

“A couple years ago. She liked how they had the medicals there to treat people, vaccinate, medicate, do what doctors do. They’d have environmentalists helping teach and train the locals on regenerative farming, better crop production, green housing, and all that. But she didn’t like how they were getting as much as they gave, and probably more.”

Callendar shrugged. “She’s doing a tour with a nonprofit now, maybe in Afghanistan. I know she likes it better. It’s her jamboree, you know?”

“Can you get in touch with her?”

“Sure. Probably.”

“Try, and see if she can tell you anything more specific. Names, dates, specific agendas.”

“Okay. It usually takes a couple, three days for her to get back to me, but I’ll tag her up. You’re looking at something hinky with Banner-Wyst.”

“Pretty sure there’s plenty hinky with Banner-Wyst. Whether or not it relates to murder’s another thing.”

She pulled up on Riverside behind the police cruiser, and stepping out, took a look at the house.

Private residence, a couple spreading stories with a lot of one-way glass, and an enviable river view. Lofty, she realized, was the word that came to mind.

No question a place like this would have top-level security.

“It’s a Roarke system,” Callendar said from beside her. “The highest of highfalutin. I want to say with enough time, equipment, and smarts, you can get through anything, but getting through this would take a lot of all that.”

“Check it, check the security feed. Look for opening a door, a window using the victim’s security code, by remote.”