“She’s a loose thread. Any thread that isn’t knotted off is an essential element.”
“And her alleged relationships to Kenneth Stiles and Richard Draco?”
“The number of connections crossed in this case result in too many triangles to be ignored. It appears that Stiles arranged for Draco’s murder, and as a result, Linus Quim’s. However, there are a number of others with motive and opportunity. It isn’t absolute that Stiles acted, more, that he acted alone. Before I moved on him, I was on the point of requesting a warrant to break the seal on Carly Landsdowne’s adoption.”
“Take your two hours, then try Judge Levinsky. Most judges are reluctant to open seals on private adoptions. He may be your best bet, particularly if you catch him after he’s had breakfast.”
• • •
She intended to follow orders. Finding a flat surface and sprawling over it would help clear her mind.
She closed the door to her office, locked it, then simply stretched out on the floor. Before she could close her eyes, her palm ‘link beeped.
“Yeah, what?”
“Good morning, Lieutenant.”
“No nagging,” she muttered and pillowed her cheek on her hand. “I’m lying down right now.”
“Good.” Roarke studied her face. “Though you’d be better off in a bed than on your office floor.”
“Do you know everything?”
“I know you. Which is why I decided to contact you. I neglected to pass on some information last night. The name of the birth mother in Carly Landsdowne’s file.”
“What’re you talking about? I told you to leave that alone.”
“I disobeyed. I’ll look forward to you punishing me later. It’s listed as Anja Carvell. She gave birth at a private woman’s clinic in Switzerland. The adoption was preset and legal. She was given the mandatory twenty-four-hour period to withdraw her decision, stuck with it, and signed the final papers. She listed the father as Richard Draco, and included, per law, a sworn document that he had been informed of the pregnancy, her decision to complete it, and the adoption. The document was verified by voluntary truth testing.”
“Was he notified of the live birth?”
“Yes. The file’s complete, and as efficient as one expects from the Swiss. He was aware he had a child, a daughter. Mandatory DNA testing verified he was the father. He made no objections to the adoption.”
She shifted to her back, let the information slide into her brain. “The adoptive parents are entitled to all this information except for the names. They’re given medical histories of the birth parents, their cultural and ethnic backgrounds, intellectual, artistic, technical skills. All that can paint a pretty clear picture. The adoptee is also entitled to all this data upon request, including the legal names of the birth parents.”
“I didn’t find any request for that data from the adoptee,” Roarke told her.
“There are ways around it. Carly could have known. She could have put it together and suspected Draco was her father. There’s physical resemblance if you know to look for it. How much did she know?”
“You’ll find out. Get some sleep.”
“Right. Remind me to slap you around later for electronic trespass.”
“I’m excited already.”
She drifted off, thinking of fathers and daughters, of deceit and murder.
And woke with the old nightmare screaming in her throat, her skin bathed with the sweat of it and a violent pounding in her head.
She rolled over, pushed up to her hands and knees to struggle against the nausea. It took her several trembling seconds to realize not all the pounding was in her head. Some of it was at her door.
“Yeah. Hold on. Damn it.” She rocked back to her heels, forced herself to breathe. She pushed to her feet, braced a hand on the desk until her legs were steady again.
After flipping the locks, she yanked open the door. “What?”
“You didn’t answer the ‘link,” Peabody said in a rush. Her face was still flushed from the morning chill. “I was—are you all right? You look—” Haunted, she thought, but followed instinct and amended the word. “Out of it.”
“I was sleeping.”