Page 75 of Fury In Death

“That’s right. Do you know him?”

“Little bit. I did twenty on the job outta Yonkers. He’s got a rep. You, too. Anyway.” She turned back to the screen, resumed flapping.

“My office there. Zen room there. Sometimes you’ve just gotta zen. And here’s Mel.”

At forty-two, Melody Donahue had milky white skin with a light scatter of freckles. Deep red hair streamed out of a tail at her back.

Her eyes, a pale, misty green, appraised Eve as she crossed the room to offer a hand.

She wore snug black jeans, a dark green shirt, and good boots.

“Lieutenant, it’s a pleasure. Thanks, Macy, and if you could take a look at the Tarrington report I just sent you, I think there are some sources there to tap.”

“Will do. Door closed?”

“Yeah, thanks. Coffee?” she asked Eve.

“No, I’m fine.”

Chapter Eleven

The office had the same homey feel of the rest of the place. A good desk, scaled to suit a woman of Donahue’s size.

Five-four, a hundred and fifteen.

Visitors’ chairs in a mix of quiet blues and creams, a sofa in the cream, a few pillows in floral patterns.

Street art for the walls, a refreshment station, a pair of windows where the privacy screens were framed by blue curtains.

“Keep the look soft,” Mel said, “and people who come here tend to relax easier. When they’re relaxed, I can get more salient data.”

Mel gestured to one of the two chairs facing the desk, took the other. She said, “Steven Redman.”

“Has he contacted you?”

“No, and up to a few hours ago, I’d have bet heavy he was dead.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Ezra Dent’s murder following close on the heels of Lawrence Chu’s. A connection like that smacks you in the face, you have to think about it. I covered the ground, Dallas. I’m good at what I do. I was pretty damn good at it six years ago when Redman’s family came to me. It’s another smack in the face I might’ve missed something.”

“You were on the job in Brooklyn?”

“Nearly seven years. The structure didn’t suit me. It sure as hell suits you.”

“It does.”

“I figure the world needs both, those it suits, those it doesn’t. Redman walked out of the Peridine Health and Wellness Facility at twelve-eighteen A.M. on May 14, 2055.”

“I read the missing persons report. The aide checked on him, according to his statement and the log, between twenty-three-thirty and twenty-three-forty.”

“And he was in bed, as always. He had clothes. An aide bathed and changed him every day, and his family provided clothing. He could and did walk with assistance. He did not speak, showed no awareness of his surroundings. No recognition when his family visited, and they were faithful there. Friends, too. He took the clothes. He had a pair of house skids, and a pair of low-rise kicks for when they walked or wheeled him outside. He took the kicks, left the skids.”

“A staff door on the lower level was unlocked, opened, and closed again at zero-eighteen hours. Forty minutes, more or less, after his bed check.”

“That’s right. I figured then and I figure now, he’d been aware for a while, and he’d observed. The family didn’t want to believe that. If he had been, to their minds, he’d have spoken to them.”

“And you’re sure of that? Sure he didn’t?”