“Dirt?”
“Soil, he claimed, dug from the Hill of Tara. That place of Irish kings long dead. Knowing Mick, it likely came out of our own gardens, but it’s the thought, after all. It’s for luck, he said, as you were the most regal of cops he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting.”
“Regal, my ass.”
“Well, as I said, it’s the thought.”
She jammed the vial in her pocket. “This regal cop hopes to have the pleasure of meeting him again, very soon. But meanwhile, we need our expert consultant, civilian, on this data analysis. I need to focus on Yost, and leave you compudroids to the tech work.”
“Absolutely, Lieutenant.” He came around the console, took her hand. “One other thing I think you’ll be in the mood for.”
“I don’t have time for sex.”
“There’s always time for sex, but that wasn’t what I meant. Just now. Yost, as Roles, holds the deed to beach-front property, and the house just completed on it in the Tropics Sector of Olympus.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“If you don’t get him here, you’ll get him there. He’s contracted one of our own site decorators to outfit the place, and has a consult set four days from now. He’s reserved a suite at the main casino hotel in three days’ time. I’ve a line on private craft booked into the transpo station there. There’s only one scheduled in from New York. I’ve transferred all the information to your home unit.”
“I’m on it.”
They separated into two teams, with McNab working with Roarke in his office on the security analysis. Eve kept Peabody with her as she outlined the best strategy for moving in on Yost. Feeney moved between the teams.
“The timing makes it clear Yost is waiting to go off planet until after the heist. Feeney, ask Roarke if Yost would be entitled to a share of the take over and above the assassin’s fee, since one hooked to the other.”
If he found anything odd about her consulting Roarke on that sort of criminal ethics, he didn’t mention it.
“Says Yost could be entitled to a bonus based on the take, but that would be transferred to him after the merchandise was transported and fenced.”
“Okay, so why’s he hanging? Probably wants to be certain it goes off smooth, and he’s not required for any more work. And there’s still Summerset on his slate. He’ll be tuned to the media for news of the theft. I need to bring in Nadine.”
They worked straight through until her team threatened to revolt without proper nourishment. Eve ate half a sandwich while working at her computer. She refused to budge until she’d read everything through one last time.
“Lieutenant, your eyes are going to bleed. Computer, save and hold data.” Then Roarke swung her chair around before she could countermand his order. “It’s after eight. You’re exhausted, and the mind will only hold so much at a go. Send your team home and take a break.”
“They can go. There are just a few more things I want to look over. Is Nadine still here?”
“No, she had to be on-air. You covered it with her, and she’ll plant your story. You’ve covered everything twice over and more.”
“Maybe. Where is everybody?”
“McNab’s down in the kitchen talking Summerset out of a second dessert before he heads to the hotel. Peabody’s taking a swim at my suggestion to clear her head, and Feeney’s in my office working because his head’s very nearly as hard as your own. There’s nothing more you can do tonight.”
“If there’s not it’s because I’ve overlooked it. I want to get some men up to Olympus, into the transpo station in case Yost gets by us here. I’ll let Agent Stowe decide which end she wants to take when I fill her in.”
“Which won’t be until tomorrow, as you don’t want her filled in too soon. Feeney,” he called out and began to knead his wife’s knotted shoulders. “Go home.”
“In a minute. Dallas, we ought to alert Space Traffic Control in case Yost detours on his way to Olympus.”
“We alert STC, it’s one more tongue to wag,” she called back. “You got any secure contacts with them?”
“I’ll work on it. I used to have this . . .” He trailed off as he stepped in and saw Roarke bent over Eve, rubbing her shoulders. “Ah, well, you know, I think I’ll head out now. I can give Peabody a lift.”
“She’s in the pool,” Roarke told him, not so gently holding his wife down when she tried to rise.
“Yeah.” Feeney’s face brightened. “Wouldn’t mind a quick dip myself.”
“Go right ahead. You’re going to eat,” Roarke said to Eve.