"I want you to get a list of everyone who's bought Heat in the last month."
She stared at him. "But that could take days! Heat is the perfume world's flavor of the month."
"Then you'd better get started, hadn't you?"
He rose and left, but not before she'd caught the amused glint in his eyes. "Damn you to hell," she muttered, and kicked the door. Easy to do when she was so damn close to it. It slammed shut with wall-shaking force.
"Hey, careful!" yelled the guy in the neighboring shoebox.
She snorted softly. She'd probably woken the old bastard up. Her office was in an area the SIU called the vaults, and more commonly known as the black hole. Once in, never out, so the saying went. It was a cataloguing area and generally reserved for those close to retirement or no longer able to cope with the pressures of SIU investigations. Gabriel's excuse for putting her here was lack of office space elsewhere.
His office was large enough for four desks.
He was obviously trying to piss her off, and he was certainly succeeding. But she wouldn't quit, and she wouldn't ask for a transfer, if that was what he was after. She'd ride it out, if only because being his partner gave her access to a whole new range of computer systems. And in one of them there surely had to be some clue to her past.
She leaned forward and picked up the folder. Inside she found photos and the crime scene report. She thumbed past the photos, barely bothering to look at them, and then scanned the autopsy results.
Interestingly enough, no traces of Jadrone had been found in Harry's system. Which meant he couldn't have had a fix for at a least a week. Harry was a junkie — if he'd been off Jadrone for any longer than three days, he would have been a mess. Frowning, she sorted through the papers and found the follow-up report. He'd shown up for work, on time, every single day.
She'd seen Jadrone junkies being weaned off the drug. Harry shouldn't have been able to piss on his own, let alone get up and go to work.
Maybe she should head down to Maximum and find old Max, the owner and chief supplier. "Izzy, I need two more searches done."
The pink fuzz ball reappeared on the screen. "I'm stressing out here, darlin'."
"You'll live. I want a complete list of everyone who's bought Heat in the last month."
The purple boa became a blur. "Why don't you ask for the moon to turn blue? Hell of a lot easier."
"Tell me about it," she muttered. "The other search I want done is for eight names." She hesitated and dug the birth certificate out of her drawer. After unfolding it, she read out the eight names. "That's a priority one search. All channels."
The purple boa stilled. "By what authority?"
"Gabriel Stern, Assistant Director, badge number 5019."
"The director has a note on-line to be informed if you request information on these eight names."
The only way Gabriel could have known about the birth certificate was if he'd been snooping through her desk. She certainly hadn't mentioned it. "Then inform him and get on with the search."
"Search underway. It may take the whole day, sweetie."
And she wasn't about to hang around waiting. "Save all results to my personal folder and scan a copy onto disk." Working with Jack for so many years had taught her to be careful. Computers could be hacked into, data erased or changed. But if you made a hard copy of everything, you at least had a backup.
"Consider it done. Have a nice day."
"Yeah, right." She rose and stretched. A shower and a few hours sleep were a first priority. Then she'd head to Maximum, and have a cozy little chat with Max. Harry had been a rich source of regular cash for at least three years. If Max didn't know how Harry had come off the drug with no side effects, no one would.
She grabbed her bag, and headed out the door.
* * * *
Gabriel entered his office, yanked off his tie, and tossed it across the arm of the nearest chair. Then he loosened the top two buttons on his shirt and walked across to the auto-cook. "Coffee, black, two sugars."He whistled tunelessly until the coffee was ready, then walked across to the desk and sat down.
"Computer on."
The com-unit hummed softly. "Good afternoon, Assistant Director."
"I want a complete background check on Harry Maxwell. Priority one."