Free Death Match by Lincoln Child Page B

‘equivocal death.’ ”
    â€œEquivocal death?” Caroline Long sat to his right, her blond hair almost colorless in the artificial light. “Explain, please.”
    â€œIt’s a type of analysis the Bureau pioneered twenty years ago. We know the victims, we know how they died, but we don’t yet know the
manner
of death. In this case, double suicide, suicide-homicide—or homicide.”
    â€œHomicide?” said Minor. “Just a minute. You said the police are treating these deaths as suicides.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œAnd everything you’ve observed agrees with that finding.”
    â€œThat’s correct. I mention equivocal death because what we have is an enigma. Every
physical
sign points to suicide. But every
psychological
sign points away from it. So we can’t close our minds to any possibility.”
    He looked around the table. When nobody spoke, he went on.
    â€œWhat are those possibilities? If we’re dealing with homicide, then it has to be somebody who knew both couples. A rejected suitor, perhaps? Or somebody who was rejected as an Eden client by your winnowing process and now holds a grudge?”
    â€œImpossible,” Minor said. “Our records are kept under the most stringent security. No rejected applicant knows the identities or addresses of our clients.”
    â€œThey could have met in the lobby, the day they both applied. Or one of the couples could have bragged about their experience at Eden to the wrong person.”
    Lelyveld shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so. Our security and confidentiality procedures begin the moment somebody steps into the building. They’re transparent for the most part, but they would forestall the kind of casual interaction you describe. As for the other, we caution our couples against any boastfulness. It’s one of the things we monitor at the class reunions. And both the Thorpes and the Wilners were discreet about how they met.”
    Lash drained his coffee. “All right, then. Back to suicide. Maybe there’s something inherently wrong with the makeup of a supercouple. Some psychopathology in the relationship, but very deep and subtle, something that wouldn’t show up in the usual screenings at your—what do you call them?—class reunions.”
    â€œThat’s nonsense,” said Minor.
    â€œNonsense?” Lash raised his eyebrows. “Nature abhors perfection, Mr. Minor. Show me a rose without at least a minor blemish. Pure gold is so soft as to be unworkable, useless. Only fractals are perfect, and even they are fundamentally asymmetrical.”
    â€œI think what Greg means is that, even if such a thing were possible, we would have learned about it,” Lelyveld said. “Our psychological assets run extremely deep. Such a phenomenon would have been picked up in our evaluations.”
    â€œIt’s just a theory. In any case, homicide or suicide, Eden is the key. It’s the one thing, the
only
thing, these couples have in common. So I need to understand the process better. I want to see what the Thorpes saw, what the Wilners saw, as your clients. I want to know just how they were selected as perfect couples. And I’ll need access—
unrestricted
access—to their files.”
    This time, Gregory Minor rose to his feet. “That’s out of the question!” He turned to Lelyveld. “You know I’ve had reservations from the first, John. Bringing in somebody from the outside is dangerous, destabilizing. It was one thing when we were dealing with an isolated incident, something that affected us tangentially. But with what happened last night—well, the security risk is too great.”
    â€œIt’s too late,” Caroline Long replied. “The risk goes beyond company secrets now. You of all people, Gregory, should understand that.”
    â€œThen forget security for the moment. It just doesn’t