He'd kept a room here, she noted as she stepped inside. A pampered, indulged boy's room full of high-class toys. The entertainment unit spread over an entire wall – video, audio, screen, game components. The data and communication center took up most of an L-shaped counter. Shelves were stocked tight with discs, books, mementos.
There was a mini-lab, fully equipped, set up in the adjoining room.
In both areas, the drapes were drawn tight over the windows, the doors locked to the outside hallways. It was a little world of secrets, she thought.
She searched the closets first, found more wigs stored in clear boxes along with what she assumed he considered his secondary wardrobe.
In the bath she found traces of face putty and face base on the counter.
No, he wasn't here, she thought. And he hadn't walked out as himself.
Holstering her weapon, she walked back to the data center.
"Computer, display last opened file, image or data."
Cannot comply without password…
"We'll see about that." She hurried out, went to the top of the stairs. "Roarke, I need you a minute."
She walked back through the bedroom into the lab and helped herself to a can of Seal-It.
"The maid claims Dunwood and his mother had a shouting match," Roarke told her as he came in. "Or rather, Dunwood did the shouting. She heard his mother crying, heard the sound of blows. That's when she ran out of the kitchen area. She heard him slam out, and found Mrs. Dunwood on the floor. Apparently, it's not the first time he's used his fists on her. Like his grandfather and father before him. The father's in Seattle on business. He doesn't spend much time here."
"Big, happy family. I want whatever you can get me out of this, last work first. It's passcoded. If you have to touch anything, use this."
She tossed him the sealant. "I'll be back in a minute."
She left him to it, went downstairs. "He's not on the premises," she told the commander. "Mrs. Dunwood, where did Lucias go?"
"For a walk. He just went out for a walk. His mind's troubled."
I'll say,Eve thought, but crouched down. "Mrs. Dunwood, you're not helping him. You're not helping yourself. The longer it takes to find him, the harder it's going to go on him. Tell me where he is."
"I don't know. He was upset and angry."
"How was he dressed when he left?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do. He disguised himself again. And you knew when you saw him that way, you knew in some part of yourself that he'd done everything he's been accused of."
"I don't. I don't believe it."
Eve turned away when her communicator signaled. She strode out of earshot, listened. Then she gave the order for an APB.
"Kevin Morano's dead." She said it flatly, watched shock and horror pale Mrs. Dunwood's face.
"Kevin? No. No."
"He was poisoned. He had a visitor this evening in a consultation room. You know what that visitor looked like, don't you, Mrs. Dunwood? Your son went to visit his friend, and he killed him. Then he walked away."
"How the hell did he get through security?" Whitney demanded to know.
"By looking like this." Roarke came back in, held out a hard copy of an image. "This data was the last work on his computer."
"Blackburn," Eve said, without looking at the printout. "Morano's attorney of record. They'd have passed him through with minimal checks. He's a well-known criminal attorney."
"There's something else." Roarke offered her another printout. "The rules of the game."
SEDUCE AND CONQUER,Eve read,a contest of romantic and sexual exploits between Lucias Dunwood and Kevin Morano.
And scanned the rest.
It was all there, meticulously organized and detailed. The setup, the rules, the payoff system, the goals.
Disgust tightened her belly as she whirled back. "Look at this," she ordered Sarah Dunwood. "Read this. This is what he's done. This is what he is." She pushed the sheet under Mrs. Dunwood's face.
"Do you want to leave me with nothing?" Tears spilled down her cheeks as she stared at Eve rather than the printout. "I carried him in my body. After months of tests and treatments, of grief and hope, I made him inside me. Will you leave me with nothing?"
"I'm not the one leaving you with nothing, Mrs. Dunwood. He's taken care of that himself." She turned away again, and ordered two uniforms up to the apartment.
"He needs a place to remove the disguise," she said as they left the apartment. "He'll come back here eventually, but he doesn't have all his things here. He'll want more of his toys. Clothes."
She tried to put herself in his head. "Gotta ditch the disguise first. He'll know we'll come around to him with Morano's death. He can't afford to leave any trace of that around. But he thinks we're slow and stupid. He's so much smarter. He'll hurry, but he won't rush. He'll go home, take off the face and hair. Clean up. Spend some time gloating, packing some things up, destroying anything he thinks might be incriminating."
"You put men on the house," Whitney reminded her. "They'll spot him."
"Maybe, maybe not. Because he'll expect them to be there. Will you drive, sir?" she asked as they stepped outside. "I need the civilian to draw me a picture."
He drove fast, and without sirens. Whitney's eyebrows lifted, but he said nothing when at Eve's request Roarke quickly called up blueprints of the townhouse on his PPC.
"You got holo-features on there?"
"Naturally. Display data holographically." The image spilled out into Eve's lap.
She studied it. And planned. "We'll move the surveillance team to the rear. One man in, one man out. Additional men entering here, and here. We go in the front. Roarke, you'll go left, and up the stairs. The commander right to sweep the main level. I'll take the steps down. He's got full security, with video, so if he's paying attention, and he pays attention, he'll know we're coming. Watch each other's backs because at the core, he's a coward."
While she committed the holo to memory, she called for additional backup.
When they pulled up behind the surveillance vehicle, she hopped out, demanded status. She detailed the situation, gave her orders quickly.
"Seal hasn't been breached," Whitney commented as they approached the front.
"He wouldn't use the main door. There are three other entrances, twelve first-story windows." She detoured at a jog to the side of the house farthest away from the surveillance. "Broken glass," she reported. "He's in there."
Both she and Whitney pulled out masters. "I beg your pardon, sir."
"No. Forgot myself. Go." He replaced the master with his weapon.
She uncoded the seal. "On three."
"She likes to go in low," Roarke told Whitney, and on Eve's count went in the door with her, high.
They speared off, three arrows. Eve called out the required warning as she took the stairs to the lower level with her back to the wall.
The droid met her at the bottom.
"I am programmed to deflect, restrain, or impede any and all unauthorized intruders on these premises. If you attempt to come any farther, I will be forced to cause you physical harm."
"Back off. We're the police, fully authorized and warranted to enter these premises and remand Lucias Dunwood into custody."
"I am programmed to deflect, restrain, or impede," he began, moving toward her.
"Fuck this," she muttered, and blasted him.
While he sparked and shuddered, she kicked him aside. "Lights on," she ordered, and didn't bother to swear when her order was ignored. She moved in the dark, leading with her weapon each time she approached a doorway.
At the soft sound of footsteps behind her, she whirled, finger twitching. "Goddamn it, Roarke."
"You have two men covering the first level. Additional backup on the way. This'll go faster with two of us down here. And," he continued, moving up to guard her back, "down here is where he is."