some of the early headlines."
She had. Running right after the flash of "Draco Dies for Art" had been annoying little tidbits such as: "Murder Most Foul! Renowned actor Richard Draco was brutally stabbed and killed last night, the murder committed under the nose of top NYPSD homicide detective, Lieutenant Eve Dallas."
So much, she thought, for plugging media leaks.
"At least they didn't refer to me as Roarke's wife until the third paragraph."
"They'll use him and you to keep the story hot."
She knew it. Detested it. "I've worked under media heat before, Commander."
"True enough." As his 'link beeped, he pushed its All Hold button and silenced it. "Dallas, this isn't an ordinary murder or even an extraordinary one. It's, as my grandchildren say, got juice, and you're part of it. You'll need to prepare carefully for the press conference at two. Believe me, the actors involved will play to the cameras. They won't be able to help themselves, and as they do, the story adds layers."
He leaned back, tapping his thigh. "I'm also aware you're not particularly interested in the public and media end of this. You'll have to consider that end, in this case, part of the job. Don't grant interviews or discuss any area of the case with any reporter prior to the press conference."
"No, sir."
"I want this to move fast. I've already requested the ME put a rush on the autopsy. The lab's on alert. We go by the book here, but turn those pages quickly. Has Areena Mansfield requested her lawyer or representative?"
"Not as yet."
"Interesting."
"I don't expect that to last long. She was shaken, but my impression is she'll want a rep once her mind clears. Her dresser confirms she was in the dressing room with Areena at every costume change. I don't put complete faith in her statement. The woman worships Mansfield. Meanwhile, I'm running background checks on all members of cast and crew. It's going to take some time. There are a lot of players here. Interviews are starting this morning."
"Are the estimates of three thousand witnesses in the ballpark?"
Just thinking about it made Eve's head throb. "I'm afraid they are, Commander. Obviously, we couldn't hold the audience members in the theater for long. We did a person-by-person ID for name and residence as each was released. Some statements were taken because, basically, some people couldn't shut up. Most of those, which I've reviewed, were disjointed and essentially useless."
"Divvy up the audience witnesses in the squad. I'll pull in some detectives from other areas. Let's run some eliminations to get those numbers down."
"I'll start that today, Commander."
"Delegate it," he ordered. "You can't be spared for drone work. Tag Feeney for the backgrounds on cast and theater personnel. I want this to close. He's to prioritize the backgrounds over his current caseload."
He'll moan over that one, Eve thought, but she was pleased to be able to pass that part of the load over to the e-detective. "I'll communicate that to him, Commander, and send him the list."
"Copies to my attention. After the press conference, I'll need you to clear any and all media interviews with me before confirmation. Dallas, you can expect to see yourself and your husband on-screen, in print, and blasted out of the goddamn tourist trams until this matter is satisfactorily closed. If you require a larger team, let me know."
"I'll start with what I have. Thank you, Commander."
"Be here, this office, at thirteen-thirty, for pre-media briefing."
It was dismissal, and acknowledging it, Eve headed out of the office and down the glide. Before she reached her level, she pulled out her communicator and contacted Feeney in the Electronic Detective Division.
"Hey, Dallas. Heard you caught a hell of a show last night."
"The reviews were a killer. Okay, got that out of my system. I've got direct orders from the commander. I'll be shooting you a full list of cast and crew from the play, and additional theater personnel. I need
Learning to Kill: Stories