Peabody climbed in. “First, you have those extra layers of security in place, so we don’t have to watch what we say or do. Part of investigating is talking through data and information. Also EDD could take shifts, if necessary. And since McNab and I are getting ready to move to our new apartment, my place is a wreck.” She smiled prettily. “So how about it?”
“It’s not a party.”
“Absolutely not.” Peabody stifled the smile and looked stern. “I’m proposing this for the good of the team, and the investigation.”
“And because there’s always ice cream stocked in the freezer.”
“Well, yes. Do I look stupid?”
It wasn’t unusual for Roarke to call for a spot-check on security in any department at any time. But it was less usual for him to run scanners personally—and to run tests on his own equipment.
The level-ten lab at Securecomp could only be accessed by employees with the highest clearance. Still, none of them grumbled at the body scans, or the delay while the scanner was run through a series of checks, then the scans rerun.
No one mumbled when a team of exterminators in their white skin-suits and black helmets were called in to sweep for bugs. Glances were exchanged, and a few shrugs, but no one questioned the man.
The lab itself was pristine. Filters and purifiers kept the air absolutely clean. Floors, walls, ceilings were all unrelieved white. There were no windows, and the walls were a full six inches thick. Minicams were positioned to record every area, all personnel, every movement, every sound.
Each workstation was a clear-sided cube or series of clear counters, and each held compact and powerful equipment. There were no ’links other than interoffice ones.
Authorized personnel wore encoded badges, and passed through three staging areas each time they entered or exited the lab. Access required voice, retinal, and palmprint verification.
The scanners, alarm, and preventatives made it impossible—so Roarke had believed—to remove any data from the lab without his knowledge and authorization. Planting a bug inside would require sorcery.
He’d have bet his reputation on it. And, essentially, had.
He signalled to the acting lab chief, Tokimoto, and walked into what the techs called “the vault.”
It was an office—spartan, almost military—with a single streamlined desk, two chairs, and a wall of sealed drawers. The desk held a muscular data and communications system with a ’link that could only send or receive outside the lab with Roarke’s personal voiceprint and passcode.
“Close the door,” he ordered Tokimoto. “Have a seat.”
Tokimoto did both, then folded his long, neat hands in his lap. “If you’ve brought me in here to ask me about Ewing, you’re wasting our time. And we both value our time. She didn’t kill anyone, however much he deserved it.”
Roarke sat, adjusted his thinking and approach as he studied Tokimoto.
The man was forty, trim and long-limbed. He wore his black hair short and close to the scalp. His skin was very white, his eyes tawny beneath long, straight brows. His nose was narrow, his mouth pressed now into a thin line of annoyance.
It was, Roarke estimated, one of the very few times he’d seen Tokimoto annoyed in the six years of their association.
“This is interesting,” Roarke commented.
“I’m pleased my opinion is of interest,” Tokimoto responded in his clipped, precise voice.
“I didn’t realize you were in love with Reva. Obviously, I haven’t been paying attention.”
Tokimoto remained still, face and body. “Ewing is—was—a married woman. I respect the institution. We are associates and colleagues, nothing more.”
“So you haven’t told her, or moved on her. Well, that’s your business. Your personal business, and none of mine unless it pertains to what goes on inside this lab. But I will say that, at the moment, she could use a friend.”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“Again, your business.” Roarke took a disc out of his pocket, inserted it in his computer. “Have a look at this. I’d like your opinion.”
Tokimoto rose, walked lightly around the desk to study the screen. He pursed his lips over the grid, the complex lines and boxes. He scratched his chin.
“Will you enhance? This area.” Tokimoto gestured to a section of the grid.
Without speaking, Roarke keystroked to enlarge and enhance the requested area. “There’s a shadow, just here in Quadrant B, section five through ten. A bug was there, but is not there now. I think . . . wait. Does it move?”