"For the most part, though Fixer had some interesting input. He was brilliant with electronics, but not completely trustworthy." Roarke plucked a stray speck of lint from his smoke gray slacks. "I decided it was unwise to use his services again."
"So nothing recent."
"No, nothing, and we parted ways amicably enough. I've no links to him, Eve, that should worry you or would complicate your investigation."
"What about this warehouse? How long have you owned it?"
"About three months. I'll get you the exact date of purchase and the details. It was intended for renovation. As the permits just came through, work was to begin next week."
"Renovating it into what?"
"Housing units. I also own the buildings on either side, and I have a bid on another in the area. They're to be rehabbed as well. Markets, shops, cafes. Some offices."
"Will that sector support that kind of thing?"
"I believe it will."
She shook her head, thinking of the income level and street crime. "You'd know more about that sort of thing, I guess. The building was insured."
"Yes, for little more than the purchase price at this point. The project's worth a great deal more to me." Taking the neglected, the disdained and giving it value meant a very great deal to him. "The building was old, but it was sound. The problem with progress is that it often sweeps aside, destroying rather than respecting what others have built before us."
She knew of his affection for old things but wasn't sure there was a point here. She'd seen little more than a pile of bricks, and that was before it had been blown up.
His money, she thought with a shrug. His time.
"Do you know anyone name Cassandra?"
Now he smiled. "I'm sure I do. But I sincerely doubt this is a former lover's jealous snit."
"They had to get the name from somewhere."
He moved his shoulders. "Maybe from the Greeks."
"Greek Town isn't anywhere near that sector."
For a moment he just stared at her; then he laughed. "The ancient Greeks, Lieutenant. In mythology, Cassandra could foretell the future, but no one believed her. She warned of death and destruction and was dismissed. Her predictions always came true."
"How do you know all this shit?" She waved the question away before he could answer. "So what's this Cassandra predicting?"
"According to my disc, the uprising of the masses, the toppling of corrupt governments—which is one of those annoying redundancies—and the overthrow of the greedy upper class. Of which I am a proud member."
"Revolution? Killing an old man and blowing up an empty warehouse is a pretty petty way to revolt." But she wouldn't dismiss the possibility of political terrorists. "Feeney's working on Fixer's office unit. It had a fail-safe feature, but he'll get by it."
"Why didn't they?"
"If they'd had anyone good enough to break into that fortress of his, they wouldn't have needed him in the first place."
Roarke considered, nodded. "Good point. Do you need me for anything else?"
"Not now. I'll keep you updated on the investigation. If you do a press release, keep it minimal."
"All right. Did you have your leg looked at?"
"I took care of it."
He raised his brow. "Let me see."
Instinctively, she tucked her legs under the desk."No."