"Robb, J D - In Death 13 - Betrayal In Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robb J D)

Her swollen eyes had glazed. Now they focused again. Good, Eve thought. You're doing good. You'll get through.
"Did you have a key or code to the door?"
"No. No, I didn't have his key or code. We hadn't taken it quite that far yet. We both wanted to keep it loose. The modern American dating couple, each cautiously guarding his own space."
A tear leaked out now, and she ignored it, let it trail down her cheek. "The door wasn't closed, not all the way. That's when I was more worried than pissed. I pushed the door open and called out. I kept telling myself he'd gotten involved in the book he was editing and lost track, but I started feeling scared. I nearly turned around and walked out, but I couldn't seem to do it. I kept calling, kept going back toward his office. Then I was at the door, and I saw him. Saw Jonah. I saw him on the floor, and the blood around his head. Sorry," she said, and quickly lowered her own between her knees.
As the dizziness passed, she saw the book on the floor. With a choked sound she picked up the battered paperback, and straightening again, smoothed the covers.
"Jonah was a story junkie. Any form. Books, discs, audio, visual. You'd find them all over his house and office, even on his boat. Can I... do you think I could keep this?"
"We're going to need to keep everything on the premises, for now. When we're done, I'll see that it gets to you."
"Thanks. Thanks for that. Okay." She took a breath, and held onto the book as if it steadied her. "After I found him, I ran outside. I think I was going to keep running, but I saw one of the patrol droids, and I called it. I sat down on the steps and started to cry."
"Did Jonah always take Wednesdays off to work at home?"
"Yes, except when he was traveling or there was a meeting scheduled he couldn't miss."
"Did you routinely have lunch with him on Wednesdays?"
"In the last two, two and a half months, we tried for a late afternoon lunch. I guess it was a routine. We both pretended we weren't in any sort of routine. Keeping it loose," she said again, and pressed tears out of her eyes.
"You were intimate?"
"We had sex, routinely." She nearly managed a smile. "We shied away from words like intimate. But neither one of us was seeing anyone else. Not for weeks now."
"I know it's very personal, but could you tell me if Mr. Talbot was in the habit of wearing body ornamentation?"
"A little silver hoop, left ball. Very silly, very sexy."
At the end of the interview, Dana had drained a second glass of water. When she got to her feet, she swayed, and Eve reached out to take her arm. "Why don't you sit down until you're steadier?"
"I'm all right. I really want to go home. I just want to go home."
"A uniformed officer will take you."
"I'd rather walk, if it's allowed. It's only a few blocks, and I... I need to walk."
"That's fine. We may have to talk to you again."
"Just no more today. Please." She walked to the door, stopped. "I think I might have been falling in love with him. I'll never know. I'll just never know now. That makes me so sad. Over this horrible wrench of what happened to Jonah, that makes me so sad."
Eve sat for a moment, just sat. There was too much going on inside her head, and she needed to streamline. She had a body on its way to the morgue, a killer methodically working his way through a job, two FBI agents who wanted to snag her case. A houseguest she couldn't quite trust and a husband who could very well be in severe jeopardy and was certainly going to cause her considerable trouble.
When Feeney walked in she was still sitting, her eyes half-closed, and her mouth in a grim line. Judging her mood, he pursed his lips, then walked over to sit on the low table in front of her. He pulled out a bag of nuts, offered it.
"You want the good news or the bad news?"
"Start with the bad. Why change the rhythm now?"
"Bad is he walked right in the front door. Guy's got himself a master and that ain't good."
"A police master?"
"That, or a good simulation. We can enhance that sector of the disc back at EDD, see if we can clean it up enough to tell for sure. Point is, Dallas, he walked right up to the door like he belonged here. Slid in a master code, and strolled inside. No question it was Yost, even without the DNA the sweepers'll pick up. Dressed spiffy -- new wig, dark hair long enough to tie back in a stub at the nape. Sort of an arty look. Guess it fits in with the neighborhood."
"He knows how to blend."
"Carried a briefcase. Took the time to put the master into an outside pocket, secure it. Knew the house, too, walked right back to the office."
Eve leaned forward. "Feeney, are you telling me the house cams were activated?"
"Yeah, that's my good news." He gave her a fierce smile. "Either Yost didn't consider that or didn't give a rat's ass, but the house cams were up. I gotta figure the victim didn't remember to shut them down when he got up this morning. We got a lot of him poking around doing usual morning stuff before he settled down to work. Audio, too. It's a solid system."
She got to her feet. "He didn't think of it. Nobody keeps inside security on when they're working at home. Who wants their every fart and scratch on record? Yost missed a step, Feeney."
"Yeah, could be he did. We got the murder on disc, Dallas. All of it."
"Where are you set up? I want to -- " She broke off, remembering Roarke. She made some sound that might have been frustration, might have been pity, or a combination of both. "I'll look at it at Central. Can you set us up in a conference room? I got something to take care of before I head in."
"Yeah, he's outside." Feeney shifted his feet, rattled the bag of nuts, stuffed it in his pocket. "I don't like to poke my nose in."
"I know. I like that about you, Feeney."
"Yeah, well. I just want to say, he's going to be feeling some weight. Got to. You can tell him he shouldn't, but it won't matter. After a bit, he's going to find his mad. Probably be pretty hot at first, then he's the type to chill it down. Seems to me that's not such a bad thing all around. We might be able to use Roarke in a cold temper."
"You're a regular philosopher today, Feeney."
"I'm just saying, is all. Maybe you're thinking it'd be better to keep him out of the loop." He nodded, seeing those exact thoughts mirrored in her eyes. "That would be from the gut, and not the head. You use your head you're going to figure out sometimes the target's the best weapon. You can try to stand in front of this particular target, Dallas, but this one'll knock you out of the way anyhow."
"Is this your roundabout way of suggesting I bring him in on this? Officially?"
"It's your case. Maybe I'm saying you should think about using all the resources available. That's all I'm saying."
Deciding that was more than enough, Feeney gave a little shrug and left her alone.
She started out, selecting uniforms to do a neighborhood canvass and knock on doors. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Roarke. He leaned against the rear fender of a sharp-looking sedan. Watching me, she thought. Waiting. But there was nothing of patience in the stance.
"Give me a minute here," Eve murmured to Peabody, then crossed to him.
"I thought you were going to use the limo and driver."
"I was. Have been. I didn't choose to wait for them when I got the call about Jonah."
"Who informed you?"
"I have sources. Are we going into Interview, Lieutenant?" When she said nothing, he swore softly, viciously, under his breath. "Sorry."