“It’s a pro setup,” Peabody said. “It’s almost as good as the one at the studio. That tub there? It’s what they use for making prosthetics, like noses and—”
“Devil horns?” Eve suggested.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s pull in the sweepers. He’ll have had whatever he wore during the attacks cleaned, but there may be trace, may be blood.” As she spoke, she stepped over to a long black coat with a hood. “Give me the UV light from the kit. I can fucking smell blood on this.”
Peabody dug it out, switched it on. “Holy shit,” she said as the black coat lit up with spatters and smears of harsh purple.
“Didn’t get it cleaned yet. Busy boy. Tag it, bag it for the sweepers. I want this into the lab and tested asap.”
“Dallas?” McNab gestured her over to the droid. “She was programmed to respond only to Knightly’s voice and command. Pretty simple bypass. You can ask her questions now.”
“What is your name?”
The droid smiled. “I’m Astra. I’m so happy to see you, Kyle. I missed you, Kyle.”
“It’s the bypass,” McNab explained.
“When were you programmed?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Who programmed you?”
“I don’t understand. Do you need to punish me?”
Eve took a breath. “Who do you belong to?”
“I belong to Kyle. Only to Kyle. Do you want to fuck me now?” The droid rubbed her hands over her breasts. “I want you, Kyle. You’re the only one I want. You’re the best I’ve ever had. Tie me up, Kyle. Make me scream. Make me—”
“Enough. Shut her down, McNab, and start on the comps.”
She turned away, noticed Trueheart wasn’t blushing. Instead his eyes were hard as flint, all cop.
“All right, boys and girls, let’s see what else we can find so we can all eat cake.”
By the time they’d finished, Peabody chugged the water from the tubes McNab passed out. “This has to set a record for us. Most evidence ever bagged. Logging it’s going to take hours.”
“Won’t that be fun for some bored drone?” Eve glanced at her comm. “Knightly is booked—on the assaulting an officer charge—and already talking to his lawyer.”
“Not a lawyer in the history of lawyers who could spin this one,” Olsen said.
“They’ll try to make a case for insanity. We’re not going to let them. Baxter, I’ll get you and Trueheart back to your ride.”
“Don’t worry about it, boss. Trueheart’s got a buddy who’ll run us back to my baby in a black-and-white.”
“Even better. This was good work, everyone. Good, solid work. McNab, you buffed your e-creds today.”
“Thanks.”
“Keep buffing. Once the droid and the rest of the electronics are loaded for transfer, go with them, and keep digging.”
Hands rubbing together, McNab bopped his hips. “What’s it make me that I can’t freaking wait?”
“Top geek of the day. Olsen, Tredway, see you back at Central. Peabody, with me.”
“I want him in a cage,” Peabody began as they walked to the car. “For the rest of his life. Then I want him reincarnated as a slug and put in a tiny box for the rest of that life. Then he can come back as a cockroach. You get the idea.”
“It’s a really good idea.”
“But.” Peabody huffed as she settled into the car. “Don’t you figure he’s totally crazy?”
“He’s so bat-shit crazy he should come back as bat-shit in one of those lives. But he’s not legally insane. Not even close. He knew what he was doing, Peabody, every step of the way. Mira’s going to say the same.”
“I wonder if you can come back as bat-shit. It’s organic. Are there maybe fizzies in your vehicle AutoChef? I seriously need a boost.”
“I don’t know, try it.”
“You want?”
“Not one of those oversweet bubbly things that look like dyed slush.” She started to opt for coffee, then realized she needed something cold. She already had too much heat in her throat. “Pepsi.”
“Cherry fizzy, score! We’re going to have to tell the Patricks. The rest of the victims and survivors, but the Patricks … It’s almost as bad as when we had to tell Mr. Mira about his cousin.”
“Makes you wonder about cousins.”
“I’ve got dozens of cousins. Pretty great cousins.” She passed Eve the tube of Pepsi. “I don’t have to play good cop with Knightly, do I?”