Part 18 (2/2)

”Procell's stuff is interesting, but still.” Eileen snorted.

”How much is there?” Harben asked.

Eileen measured the remaining papers with her fingers. ”An inch and a half, boss,” she said gloomily. ”I'll be here all night.”

”Don't be here all night. You've got some work to do tomorrow. They might come up with some prints from your discovery, or perhaps not. You need to talk to those Gamers again. Someone will crack.”

Harben tapped a finger on the file. ”Good work, by the way. In most mystery novels, however, once the good detective figures out the locked-room mystery, he knows immediately who has committed the murder.”

Eileen grinned at Harben. Harben's congratulations always made her feel good.

”I'll get there.”

”See that you do.”

Harben turned and went back to his office. Eileen crumpled up the taco papers and tossed them into the wastebasket. She turned to the next article and began to read.

Hours later, Eileen glanced up at the clock and winced. Eleven. Betty would be hungry. She'd missed the local news again. She rubbed her forehead and stacked Doug Procell's papers. John Richmond's article was not accompanied by a picture, mercifully. He must have died instantly when the garbage truck slammed into his little commuter car. The other deaths were all at other military bases, sometimes mysterious but mostly just common accidents. Eileen lingered over a picture of an unsmiling, curly-haired woman with dark eyes. Harriet Sullivan. Sully. The notice was her memorial service, and Joe Tanner was not mentioned in the survivors list. They probably weren't officially engaged. Eileen put the picture in the file and shut the cover. She sighed.

”Done?” Harben's voice startled her.

”I'm done. I don't think I learned a d.a.m.n thing.”

”Could she have been executed?” Harben asked quietly.

”Yes, I think so,” Eileen said, and looked up. Harben was sitting at the desk next to her own, a cup of coffee in one relaxed hand. The man was uncanny, he was so silent. Eileen should have heard him walk up and sit down, but she hadn't. ”Major Blaine would have to be involved, I think. I saw him tape the door shut. But who's to say he couldn't have smuggled the murderer out before he sealed the door?”

”More important, who was brought in to commit the murder?” Harben asked quietly. ”Where do you hire a killer with a security clearance?”

”You're right,” Eileen said. ”They'd have to bring someone new on base to do that. A mole. A spy. Maybe there's a trail there.”

”I find the scenario unlikely, Eileen,” Harben said. ”A killer who has a clearance, who is brought onto the base to kill someone, who is hidden in the dark and the cold for hours ... with no guarantee he won't be discovered and shot to cover the whole mess up. Then the killer is smuggled out of the area with no one spotting him?”

”Accidents are much easier to arrange,” Eileen said grimly.

”Which is why I don't believe this is an execution,” Harben responded. He leaned back in his chair and sipped from his coffee. ”I think you've met your murderer already, Eileen. You just have to find out which of your Gamers it is.”

Eileen was opening her mouth to speak when the on-duty phone rang. The Investigations office was quietly busy with the nighttime s.h.i.+ft, but just the same the phone cut through the air. Harben took a small measured sip of his coffee as the on-duty officer picked up the phone. The officer was Rosen. New detectives always pulled the worst s.h.i.+fts. Eileen hadn't even noticed he was there, she'd been so absorbed in the case. Rosen spoke for a moment and then glanced over at Eileen and Harben. He nodded his head at them and waved for them to come over.

”Oh, no,” Eileen said, and got to her feet. She knew, she always knew. She saw the shy smile of Joe Tanner as he handed her a can of pop, and swallowed past a lump in her throat.

She took the phone.

”Detective Reed here.”

”Oh, Miss Reed, thank G.o.d,” Major Blaine said in a hoa.r.s.e voice. ”Thank G.o.d. Can you get out here?”

”What happened?” Eileen said tightly.

”It's Art. Oh, G.o.d, it's Art. Art Bailey,” Blaine choked.

Eileen had spoken to Art just a few hours before, when she'd told the sad-eyed Truth Team leader to clear out of the Gaming Center.

”What about Art?” Eileen asked.

”It's-I-He's been murdered,” said Blaine.

Colorado Springs Investigations Bureau.

”I'll be right there,” Eileen said. She hung up the phone. She stood there for a moment and then turned to Harben.

”It's Art Bailey. He's been murdered too. I didn't let him help me with the floors,” Eileen said. ”I didn't let him look at the tapes with me. He must have thought of something. He must have figured it out.”

Harben looked down at his coffee cup, his mouth tight.

”This will not be an unsolved case,” Harben said coldly. ”I'll send officers out to the other Gamers' houses. You have the names and addresses in your file? What's your file and code name access?”

”The file is TGUZMAN,” Eileen said, reaching for a sc.r.a.p of paper and writing it down. ”And the code name access is MEDEA.” The software system picked the code names and a.s.signed them to case files. Eileen had felt a chill when she first saw the code name. Medea was the mythological queen who murdered her own children.

”Dave,” Harben said. Rosen looked up from his desk and got to his feet at Harben's nod. Eileen had thought over the past few weeks that perhaps Harben was going to a.s.sign Rosen as her partner. She'd worked without a partner for nearly six months, ever since Jim Erickson moved to Denver. Eileen liked working without a partner, but that couldn't go on much longer. There was too much to do, working alone. Harben had given her a chance to get her hands on the Senior Detective position, and now it was time to see if she could keep it with a new partner. Dave Rosen looked like a good choice. He was smart, and he was green. This was a test, for both Rosen and herself.

”Yes, sir,” he said.

”Eileen's file on the Guzman case. Get the other Gamers listed here on the phone. Find out who they are. Read the file. You'll be a.s.sisting Eileen on this case. Understood?”

”Understood, sir,” he said quietly, and took the sc.r.a.p of paper. His eyes glittered, and Eileen remembered that was Rosen's way of smiling. He was a rookie, but he was going to be good.

”I've got to go,” Eileen said. She had to get to Schriever. ”I'll contact you by radio.”

”All right,” Rosen said, as evenly as before.

”Keep in contact,” Harben said. ”Watch your back, Eileen.”

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