"Secured?"
He glanced at Eve. "Yes. If you'd come this way."
He took them to the foyer elevator, a snug fit for six. "Level-three meeting room," he ordered.
Eve wasn't sure she knew they had a level-three meeting room, but kept that information to herself as the elevator began to glide.
When the doors opened she recognized the area, vaguely, as one Roarke used on occasions when he had live or holo-meetings too large to suit his office space.
There
was a glossy conference table in the center of the room, with. two seating areas on either end. A long, gleaming bar rode one wall, backed with sparkling mirrors. On its opposite was a data and communication center.
"Sit," Eve ordered. "And wait. Peabody, stand for the moment." She gestured to Roarke and walked out with him into the hall.
"Observation behind the mirrors?"
"There, yes. Also the room is under full video and audio. Your observers can sit comfortably in the adjoining lounge. Why aren't you fascinated?"
"I am, but I have to think. They're tricky. They've been waiting ice this, on some level, all their lives. They're prepared."
"What they are is unified."
"Yeah. Maybe they don't have a choice on the unification. I don't know. How can we know? They're not sweating this. She was-the first one. But as soon as she made the call, she smoothed out. Show me observation."
She went with him into a spacious sitting room, all muted colors and relaxation. Glass doors opened onto one of the many terraces, and an entertainment screen spread out on the connecting wall.
"Screen on," Roarke instructed. "Observation mode. Engage audio."
It seemed as though the wall melted. She could see the whole of the meeting room. Peabody stood by the door, her face schooled in professional blankness. The three women sat at one end of the table. Their hands remained linked.
Eve slid her hands into the pockets of the coat she'd forgotten she had on. "They don't say 'I,' they say 'we.' Is that smart or is it honest?"
"Maybe it's both. But smart's a factor. Dress, hairstyle identical. That's calculated."
"Yeah." She nodded. She took out her communicator, buzzed Peabody. "Privacy mode," she ordered, waited. "Leave them there for now, come out, turn right, come in through the first door."
"Yes, sir."
"They'll know you're watching," Roarke pointed out. "They're used to being watched."
"Hey," Peabody said as she came in, saw the observation window. "More frost in a series of frosty events and happenings. Is it just me, or does that have a very high creepy factor?"
"Imagine how it is for them," Eve countered. "Whitney?"
"He's coming in, as is Chief Tibble. He's requested Dr. Mira attend."
Eve felt her back tighten. "Why?"
"I don't make a habit of questioning the commander." She said it piously. "I like being a detective."
Eve paced the length of the glass. There wasn't so much as a murmur from inside. And the women sat, relaxed. "We ID them through prints first, request they voluntarily provide DNA samples, test those. We're going to make damn sure what we're dealing with. We can start that before the observation team arrives."
Putting it into order in her head, Eve shrugged out of her coat. "Let's separate them while we're running the ID. They won't like that."
As she expected, she saw the first crack in composure when she returned and ordered Peabody to escort one of the women from the room.
"We want to stay together."