Eve stepped back, drew Sade out of the kitchen. “Sit down. Tell us more about her.”

Sharp-looking woman,” Peabody commented. She brought Jilly Isenberry's data and image up on the dash screen so Eve could see. “Thirty-eight, mixed race, single. No marriage or cohab on record. Employed as flight attendant, Orbital Transportation, since 2053. Previous employment listed as-hoohaw-”

Eve, fighting traffic, only furrowed her brow. “Hoohaw?”

“I think it's a military exclamation. Maybe. Which fits, as prior to her employment at Orbital, she was Corporal Isenberry, U.S. Army. Put in twelve years. You'd think she'd make more than corporal in a dozen.”

“And you'd think a dozen years as a soldier would point her toward something other than serving drinks and passing out vids to yeehaws heading to the gambling world.”

“Yeehaws?”

“Another military term. We get the military records, you can bet she served with Kirkendall somewhere, sometime.”

“And that kind of coincidence-”

“Isn't. She didn't change her data, change her name, nothing. They thought they'd be gone by the time we got this far, if we ever got this far. We've got our who, we've got our why. Now we find the son of a bitch. Dallas,” she said into her communicator when it signalled.

“A legal adjutant for military services requests a meeting,” Whitney informed her. “My office. ASAP.”

“Heading toward Central now, sir.”

Eve judged the traffic, the distance, then hit the sirens and went in hot.

Peabodywas still catching her breath when they caught the glide to Whitney's floor. “Are my eyes back down where they belong? I don't like to go into a meeting when they're rolled up white. Looks bad.”

For the hell of it, Eve gave her a thump on the back firm enough to havePeabody nearly wheeling off the glide. “There. They're back.”

“I don't think that was funny. I don't think that was funny especially after you nearly killed us three times flying back here.”

“It was twice, and really, it was only maimed. People don't respect sirens in this city, that's the problem. They just keep la, la, la, when an emergency vehicle needs to get the hell where it's going.”

“The Rapid Cab you nearly creamed wasn't going la, la, la. It was more a scream of abject terror.”

“Yeah.” It made Eve smile to remember it. “So he should've gotten the hell out of my way.” She bounced her shoulders a couple of times. “You know, that little ride buzzed me up. Almost as good as coffee.”

They were passed straight into Whitney's office, where her commander and the rest of the team were already in place. Along with a holo-projection of a woman in dress whites.

Spruced up for it, Eve thought, but couldn't bother to be here in person.

“Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody, Major Foyer, United States Armed Forces, legal branch. Major Foyer requires further incentive to release the full military records of the individuals we have requested.”

“Those records are the property of theU. S. government,” Foyer said in clipped tones. “We have a duty to protect the men and women who serve.”

“And we have a duty to protect the citizens of this city,” Eve put in. “Information has come into my hands during the course of a multiple homicide investigation that leads me to believe Kirkendall, Roger, former sergeant, U.S. Army, is involved.”

“Disclosure of this nature requires more than the belief of an officer in the civilian sector, Lieutenant. The Revised Patriot Act, section 3 implemented 2040, specifically-”

“Gives the government carte blanche to demand and receive personal data on any citizen, while secreting data on their own. I know how it works. However, when a member of the armed forces is under suspicion for acts against the government or its citizenry, those records can be turned over to both military and civilian authorities.”

“Your suspicions, Lieutenant, are not enough. Evidence-”

“Commander, with your permission?”

He raised his brow when Eve stepped toward his computer, then nodded.

Eve ordered the file on the Swishers. “Images of victims, crime scene, onscreen.”

They flashed on, stark and bloody. “He did that.”

“You believe-”

“I know,” Eve corrected. She ordered the images of Knight andPreston on screen. “He did that. You trained him, but that's not on you. He twisted his training. But it's on you if you don't cooperate, if you don't assist this department, this investigation. If you hamper in any way our pursuit of Roger Kirkendall, then the next one he kills is on you.”

“Your evidence is far from conclusive at this stage of your investigation.”

“Let me give you some more. And since you look like a woman who does her job, not a lot of what I'm going to give you is news. He owns part of a successful business inQueens, but hasn't been seen by his partner in six years. Grant Swisher represented his wife in a custody suit- and won. Judge Moss, presiding, was assassinated, along with his fourteen-year-old son, in a car bomb two years ago. Karin Duberry, the case worker from Child Protection Services, was strangled in her apartment last year. I believe when I complete the investigation into the stabbing of the medical authority who testified for Mrs. Kirkendall, we will find that Kirkendall was also responsible for this death.”

“Circumstantial.”

“Bullshit, Major. Jilly Isenberry, former corporal in the U.S. Army, was until recently the roommate of Sade Tully, the paralegal in Swisher's office. Isenberry spent time in the Swisher home, was considered a friend. Isenberry arranged to meet Tully shortly after the Kirkendal) trial, with the happy coincidence of a nice apartment within walking distance of Swisher's office. She, like Kirkendall, seems to travel a good deal. And I'll bet my next month's salary against yours that Kirkendall and Isenberry not only knew each other, but served together.”

“One moment, Lieutenant.” The holo vanished.

“Checking it now, aren't you? Tight-assed bitch.” Eve caught herself, turned to Whitney. “I beg your pardon, Commander.”

“No need.”

“You've been busy,” Feeney said. “Good going, kid.”

“We're rolling. We don't really need the military details at this point, but I'm not going to let her stonewall us. I want them.”

“Holes in the ER doc's case,” Baxter put in. “If you're looking at them. Guy who went down for it claimed he found her that way, just decided to rob the body-and got himself busted with her wallet and persona] effects before he got off the lot. Her blood all over him. But they never found the murder weapon.”

“Anything in his statement? He claim to see anything?”

“He was juiced. Had a homemade stunner in his pocket. No evidence vie was stunned. Already had a sheet. He'd gone down for illegals, and for assault, and for robbery. Cops find him a hundred feet from a dead body, dead body's possessions and blood on him, they didn't look elsewhere.”

“I want copies of the case file, the ME's report, the whole shot.”

“Already done.”

The holo shimmered back on. “The records requested will be made available to you.”

“Add Isenberry's.”

“Along with former Corporal Isenberry's. These officers are no longer under military jurisdiction. If either or both are responsible for these deaths, I hope you get them.”

“Thank you, Major.” Whitney gave the holo a nod of acknowledgment. “My department and the city ofNew York appreciate your help in this matter.”

“Commander. Lieutenant.” The holo faded away.

Whitney settled at his desk again. “I'd like an update while we wait for the data.”

Eve ran through it for him, for the team.

“Patient isn't the word.” Baxter huffed out a breath. “Patient's a cat at a mouse hole. This guy's like a spider who'll work for years to spin a web from theBronx to the Bowery. Our retired USMC seemed clean. He was out of town the night of the Swisher murders. Golf tourney inPalm Springs. Transpo checked out, hotel, and he's got plenty of witnesses.”