Free Three in Death by J.D. Robb Page A

drug.”
    Darcia held up a hand. “All the more reason to have them around.”
    “No, sir.”
    “Ma’am,” Darcia corrected with a smirk at Eve. “In my country a female superior is addressed as ‘ma’am.’”
    “Yes, ma’am. It may be different in your country as to the process of accessing this sort of drug. In the States, you have to register. If you haven’t—that is, if you’re still alive within thirty days of filling the prescription, you’re on auto-recall. The drugs are confiscated and you’re required to submit to psychiatric testing and evaluation. But besides that, it doesn’t play.”
    “Keep going, Peabody,” Eve told her.
    “The note claims she decided to off herself because she was guilty over events that took place last night. But she already had the drug in her possession. Why? And how? You established time of death at oh-four-hundred this morning, so she got her payoff and the guilts awful close, then the means to self-terminate just happen to be in her possession. It’s way pat, if you follow me.”
    She paused, and when Darcia nodded a go-ahead, pulled in a breath and kept going. “Added to that, it doesn’t follow that she would rig her apartment door to an explosive, or set another in the surveillance area to destroy the security disks of the building. Added to that,” Peabody continued, obviously enjoying herself now, “Roarke’s profile is directly opposed to hiring out hits, especially since Dallas popped the guy, which is one of the things he admires about her. So when you add that all up, it makes that note bogus, and this unattended death becomes a probable homicide.”
    “Peabody.” Eve dabbed an imaginary tear from her eye. “You do me proud.” Darcia looked from one to the other. Her temper was still on the raw side, which she could admit colored her logic. Or had. “Perhaps, Officer Peabody, you could now explain how person or persons unknown gained access to this unit and persuaded this trained security expert to take termination drugs without her struggling.”
    “Well…”
    “I’ll take over now.” Eve patted her shoulder. “You don’t want to blow your streak. Person or persons unknown were admitted to the unit by the victim. Most likely to pay her off or to give her the next stage of instructions. The termination drugs were probably mixed into the wine. Person or persons unknown waited for her to slip into the first stage of the coma, at which time she was carried in here, laid out nice and pretty. The note was generated, the stage set. When it was determined that victim was dead, the explosives were rigged, and person or persons unknown went on their merry way.”
    “She sort of sees it,” Peabody added helpfully. “Not like a psychic or anything. She just walks it through with the killer. Really mag.”
    “Okay, Peabody. She was a tool,” Eve continued. “No more, no less. The same as Weeks was a tool. She probably joined the force to honor her father, and he used that, just as he’s using Roarke’s father to get to him. They don’t mean anything to him as people, as flesh and blood. They’re just steps and stages in his twenty-three-year war.”
    “Maybe not tools, then,” Darcia countered, “but soldiers. To some generals they are just as dispensable. Excuse us, Officer Peabody, if you please.”
    “Yes, ma’am. Sir.”
    “I want an apology.” She saw Eve wince, and smiled. “Yes, I know it’ll hurt, so I want one. Not for pursuing a line of investigation, and so on. For not trusting me.”
    “I’ve known you less than twenty-four hours,” Eve began, then winced again. “All right, shit. I apologize for not trusting you. And I’ll go one better. For not respecting your authority.”
    “Accepted. I’m going to have the body taken to the ME, as a probable homicide. Your aide is very well trained.”
    “She’s good,” Eve agreed, since Peabody wasn’t around to hear and get bigheaded about it. “And getting