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fuck that, too." He rounded on her. His fists were clenched, and the blood had surged to his face. "Goddamn skirts don't belong on the job anyway. You go ahead and play with Whitney's pet cunt, Martinez, and see where it gets you. No cop turns on another, no matter what he was, and gets by me."
    With a last vicious look at Eve, he stalked out.
    Martinez cleared her throat, scratched her head. "The lieutenant has a problem working with women and minorities."
    "Is that so?"
    "Yeah. So you shouldn't take it more personal than that. Look, the Ricker deal was mine, and Kohli was a straight arrow. That's one of the reasons I tagged him for some of the drone work. I don't like your question either, but I figure it's like you said. It had to be asked. Kohli may not have been one to go the extra mile, but he respected his badge. He liked being a cop, standing for the law and order thing. I can't see him going on the take, Lieutenant. Just doesn't fit."
    It depended, Eve thought, on where you put the pieces. "What did Mills mean, no matter what he was."
    "On Kohli?" Her eyes sparkled with what might have been humor or temper. "Meaning Kohli was black. Mills is of the opinion the only real cop is male and white and hetero. Personality-wise, Mills is pretty much a flaming asshole."
    Eve waited until Martinez left. "You get all that, Peabody?"
    "Yes, sir."
    "Record off. Make a copy for my file, keep the other under wraps. Walk Roarke through the place so he can get his damage report. You've got fifteen minutes," she told him. "Then you're out, and the place is sealed until I say different."
    "She's lovely when she's annoyed, isn't she, Peabody?"
    "I've always thought so."
    "Fourteen minutes," Eve warned. "And counting."
    "Why don't we start at the top?" He offered Peabody his arm. "And work our way down."
    When they were out of earshot, she pulled out her communicator and called Feeney in the Electronic Detective Division. "I need a favor," she said the minute his worn and weary face floated on-screen.
    "If it ties to the cop killing, we won't count it. Every man in my unit'll put in whatever time you need on it. Son of a bitch thinks he can get off with doing a cop like that, he's gonna find out different, and the hard way."
    Eve waited until he'd run down. "Switch this transmission to privacy mode, would you?"
    Feeney frowned but made the switch and slipped on his headset. "What's the deal?"
    "You're not going to like it. Let's clear that up front so you don't have to give me grief on it. I need you to run two cops for me. Lieutenant Alan Mills and Detective Julianna Martinez, both in Illegals out of the One twenty-eight."
    "I don't like it."
    "I need a quiet run, Feeney. I don't want any flags going up."
    His already mournful face dropped into sags. "I especially don't like it."
    "I'm sorry to ask. I'd do it myself, but you can do it faster and quieter." She glanced up to where Roarke and Peabody walked along the top level. "I don't like it either, but I've got to open the door before I can close it."
    Though he was alone in his office, Feeney lowered his voice. "You just looking, Dallas, or are you looking for dirt?"
    "I can't fill you in now, but I've got too many connections to ignore. Do this for me, Feeney, and when it's done, let me know. We'll hook up somewhere, and I'll bring you up to date."
    "I know Mills. He's an asshole."
    "Yeah, I've had the pleasure."
    "But I can't see him dirty, Dallas."
    "That's the problem, isn't it? We never want to see it."
    She pocketed the communicator, righted a bar stool, and sat. In her notebook she began listing names, putting Kohli's in the center with arrows out to Ricker, connecting his with Mills and theirs with Martinez. She added Roth, curving a line to all, then in the bottom corner she added Webster. IAB.
    She arrowed his to Kohli and wondered if she would be connecting him to anyone else before it was done.
    Then, because it had to be done, she added Roarke, hooked him to Kohli and to