Revenant in Death

Chapter 16

by Technomad

Rayleen Straffo

Much as she wanted to be there to applaud Eve Dallas' demise, Rayleen knew perfectly well that she was much better off far, far away, with an unbreakable alibi. As luck would have it, she had just that, thanks to her generous boss.

Mame Burnside did not confine herself to New York City by any means. She was wealthy enough to travel as she pleased, and she routinely moved around the United States to attend various events. She also traveled overseas, but for those times, Agnes Gooch accompanied her. Mame had been quite understanding when Rayleen had explained, face red with faux shame, that she couldn't get a passport.

"Oh, my dear, the authorities are so unforgiving, aren't they? They won't issue you a passport, just because you spent some time in prison." Mame patted her on the shoulder. "And many countries won't let an ex-offender in. I may have to see what I can do about that. But for now, dear Agnes can come with me when I go abroad, and you can fill in when I'm Stateside." Behind her façade, Rayleen smiled to herself. She didn't dare apply for a passport because she wasn't 100% sure that the persona of "Jane Mollenbeek" would hold up under the sort of scrutiny given passport applications. And exposure would be disastrous for her.

So Rayleen was standing just behind Mame, at a reunion for veterans of her faction in the Urban Wars, in Boston. Mame was, as usual, more than a little tiddly on her favorite diet of martinis, while Rayleen, as always, contented herself with a tube of Pepsi.

The crowd was mixed. There were poor people there, some of them a step, if that, above street sleepers, mingling freely with members of the social and political elite. On this day, they were all equals, all old comrades, as they shared reminisces and raised glasses in toasts to their friends who were not there, whether because they couldn't make it or because they were no longer among the living. The veterans laughed together, cried together, and cooed together over pictures of children and grandchildren.

People weren't paying attention to Rayleen. She'd been introduced as Mame's new assistant, and once everybody had greeted her, they'd left her to her own devices. As befit a conscientious employee, she was never far from Mame's side, but for all intents and purposes, she was invisible.

Unobtrusively, she checked the time, and smiled slightly. She pulled out her smartphone, and tapped into the Net. She was searching for the latest news reports from New York. It was about the time Eve Dallas was scheduled to give her lecture at the Police Academy. Unless, of course, something dreadful had happened…

Eve Dallas

Lying half-stunned where her chair's explosion had thrown her, Eve tried to make sense of what had happened. She tried moving her feet experimentally, and was glad to note that they both responded. She had been very fortunate to not suffer a spinal-cord injury the last time she'd been hurt, and she dreaded the thought of lifelong paralysis.

Around her, shouts and screams could be heard through the ringing in her ears, and she smelled several kinds of smoke. Her poor powered wheelchair was lying nearby, with flames and smoke boiling out of the back. She tried to rise, but it hurt to move, and she contented herself with lying there, waiting for assistance.

Soon gentle hands were easing her on to a stretcher. She began to wonder what had happened to the other people who'd been nearby. Peabody, the Morgan siblings…Sean! Terror flashed through her.

"Sean!" she croaked. "Where is Sean?" At their questioning looks, she clarified: "My son! Where is he?"

"Mr. Roarke was injured, ma'am. They're loading him into an ambulance. Please stay down. We don't know just what set your chair off, and we want you to stay still." Eve would have argued, but somebody or other stuck a needle into her arm, and she drifted off to slumber.

Willow Mackie

Just as Willow got to the public transpo station, a loud bang told her that the thermite bomb she had put in her former room had gone off. Along with everybody else, she looked back toward the Davis Hotel and saw flames bursting out of the window she had aimed from. After watching for a few seconds, as befit an innocent bystander, she turned and headed down to the platform to catch her transpo, heading back to her old cellie's apt.

Once safely on the train, she pulled out her smartphone and checked the latest news. The explosions hadn't made the news yet, she noted. She didn't know if that meant that the NYPSD had issued orders to the news media not to broadcast anything, or if they just hadn't got the word yet.

Nobody paid any attention to her, which was just how she liked it. To the eye, she was just another commuter, heading home from a trip into the city. When she got to her stop, she got off the train and walked calmly back up to her apt's front door. She knew she was pretty safe; the address she had given the Davis Hotel, the one on her false ID, was a place she had never been near. The second she was inside, she ran for the television, turning it to a news channel.

Rayleen Straffo

After a little while, Rayleen's patience was rewarded. The news media were suddenly alive with reports of a large explosion in a New York park. Her eyes went wide at the videos. From what she could see, Eve Dallas almost had to be dead.

Man! That laser did some damage! she thought. She wondered how it could have done that. She had no experience with weapons herself, having been incarcerated years before she could have acquired such experience. But no one could spend years around Willow Mackie, not to mention Renee Obermann, without soaking up a great deal of theoretical knowledge on the subject. Willow and Renee could easily go on for hours, in low voices so that their keepers would not overhear and disapprove, comparing the merits and demerits, and effects, of all sorts of weapons.

She had never heard of a sniper laser setting off such an explosion. She was eager to get more news, but had to show only a passing interest in the event. She was always aware that one slip could lead to her downfall. Reluctantly, she shut her smartphone off, and pretended to take an interest in the reunion. Mame, fortunately, was deep in conversation with some people she'd served with, and hadn't noticed anything unusual about Rayleen's activities.

Roarke

Roarke had just finished up a deal for some more real estate in Seattle, and was feeling very pleased with himself. Just as he sat back in his chair, relaxing and wondering how his wife's monthly lecture was going, Summerset ran in. One look at Summerset's face, and Roarke felt as though his blood had turned into ice water.

"Turn on the video! There's news from New York!" When the screen came to life, Roarke stared at it in horror. The park outside the Police Academy was swarming with police, cadets, and emergency workers, and people were being loaded into ambulances with paramedics hovering around them.

A commentator was saying: "…an explosion ripped through the Davis Park outside the Police Academy half an hour ago. The cause of the explosion is unknown at this time, but another explosion within the Davis Hotel is thought to be related. There have been casualties, but we do not have reliable information on whether there have been fatalities."

Another talking head appeared. "It appears that the first explosion was caused by something malfunctioning in a powered wheelchair. The person riding in the chair, the well-known Lieutenant Eve Dallas, is not known at this time to be dead. Further developments as they come."

Roarke snapped off the video. Summerset, bless him, was holding out his greatcoat. "I thought you'd want to get back to New York, sir."

"You thought right!" Shrugging into his coat, Roarke ran for his airplane, the faithful Summerset right behind him. As he scrambled up and into the plane, he was promising himself that he'd find whoever had done this, if it had been deliberate.

And if it had been a deliberate attempt on his cop's life…there would be vengeance.

Rayleen Straffo

Rayleen had to call on all the acting talent she had developed in her years in prison to keep a calm and rather disinterested façade when the news came through to the reunion. She wanted to glue herself to the screen and devour every bit of information she could, but in her persona as Jane Mollenbeek, mild-mannered aide and assistant to one of the wealthiest women in New York City, she had to pretend only moderate interest.

Luckily for her, Mame was one of the most charitable people she had ever met. The second she found out what had happened, Mame was figuring out how she could help out the injured.

"Jane, dear, I know you'll be disappointed, but we're going to have to cut this trip short. You know I'm a patron of several New York hospitals, and I need to be there to see if there's anything they need. This awful thing…" For a second, Mame looked older. She seemed to be staring into the distance, at something only she could see. "I thought that I'd left this behind the day the Urban Wars ended."

"I understand, ma'am. Do you think your friend Ms. Charles will want to help out?" While Rayleen couldn't have cared any less than she did about the collateral damage done, she had to keep up appearances around Mame.

"Of course! We may end up putting on a benefit concert for those who need financial help. I'll call Mavis, and some others I know. I'm sure they'll be eager to assist." Mame grinned. "Of course, darling, as my assistant, you'll get in for free."

"Thank you, Mame." Jane finished packing their gear, and the women swept on out to get a cab to the airport to get back to New York as fast as they could. Inside, Rayleen was exulting. This time she had an absolutely steel-clad alibi! She had dozens…no, hundreds…of eyewitnesses that she had been in Boston at the time of Eve Dallas' assassination!

She regretted that she didn't dare check in with Willow until they were safely back in New York at Mame's town house, and she was in her quarters and unobserved. The flight was short, but seemed to take forever.

Eve Dallas

Eve opened her eyes, with an effort. She was staring into a bright light. As her eyes focussed, the light resolved itself into a ceiling fixture, in a white ceiling. She groaned.

"Oh, you've recovered consciousness!" A silhouette head wearing what looked like a nurse's cap came into view. "Please hold still, Lieutenant Dallas. You've been injured, and we're still running tests to see how badly you've been hurt."

Eve didn't worry about herself. There were others to think of. "Sean?" she croaked. "Peabody?" She felt a wave of fear at the thought that her son had been hurt, or worse, killed.

"Young Mr. Roarke is being treated as we speak, Lieutenant. Captain Peabody took a lot of the blast from your chair, though. She's in Intensive Care, along with Detective Sergeant Morgan and her brother."

Right at that moment, Eve couldn't have cared less about the newcomers from Miami. She was too worried about her son, and her longtime partner and best friend. Just then, someone stuck her in the arm with a needle, and she felt herself drifting back off to sleep.

Roarke

Roarke sped up to the hospital in his limousine, leaping out as it came to a halt outside. He knew his driver had enough sense to make sure the car was parked safely. At the moment, all his thoughts were on his wife. With Summerset right behind him, he stormed into the hospital lobby.

They'd been expecting him. A man in a white coat stepped forward. "Sir? Lieutenant Dallas is currently under sedation in the Intensive Care Unit. Please come this way." The next thing Roarke knew, he was bending over his cop, who was lying in a bed with all sorts of complicated gadgets wired to her.

Roarke was no hospital newcomer. He read the readouts on the EKG and EEG, and relaxed slightly. His wife was unconscious, and clearly hurt badly, but showing no signs of dying. Then he remembered. "Who else was hurt?" he snapped.

"Your son, sir. Young Mr. Roarke is in the next room over. Would you like to see him?"

"Of course!" Soon Roarke was standing by his son's bed. Sean slowly opened his eyes, smiling to see his father.

"Dad?"

"Son! You're hurt!"

Sean managed to crack a smile. "Not so bad as all that, Dad. They're keeping me here mostly to make sure I didn't take any brain injury. I did crack my head against the sidewalk pretty hard." He gestured to his head. It was wrapped up in a white bandage, rather like an Indian turban. "I also got some broken bones." Sure enough, one arm and both legs were encased in casts. "The docs say that unless I show signs of brain injury, I'll be out of here shortly." He quirked a grin. "Mom and I can be cripples together." Then his face went serious. "Mom's all right, isn't she?"

"As far as I know, she is, son. She was hurt badly, and she's now unconscious." Roarke drew up a chair. "Now, tell me what happened."

Sean closed his eyes, remembering. "It's hard to say, Dad. All I remember is Mom's wheelchair blowing up, and then awakening here."

"I'll want to have a look at that wheelchair, or the remains," muttered Roarke. He reached out and touched his son's hand. "In the meantime, rest and get well. We're looking forward to having you back at home."

"Will do, Dad. By the way, there was a girl…no, a woman…I'd just met that I really liked the look of. She's apparently a sergeant in the NYPSD, up from Miami. Her name is Deborah Morgan. Could you see that she's all right, too?"

"Of course!" As Roarke got up to leave, he wondered if his elusive son had finally been captured by a woman. If so, and if that woman was still alive, he, Roarke, would run the ruler over her. He and Sean both knew that Sean was "target-for-today" for every woman in the Northeast, at least. And while he, Roarke, had been extremely fortunate in his marriage, he knew of quite a few of his peers or near-peers who had not been so lucky. A wrongly-chosen spouse could be emotionally and financially ruinous.

Of course, if this "Sergeant Morgan" was a policewoman herself, and had risen to sergeant rank on her own merits, that was a point in her favor. Too many wealthy women, who could be considered less likely to target Sean solely for his money, were vapid airheads who lazed away their days doing nothing much. Roarke felt his son deserved an intelligent, tough woman, one who could be a true partner in his life.

A thought occurred to him, and he smiled to himself. Perhaps his son had decided that his old Dad had a good idea, and had decided to follow in his father's footsteps?

Rayleen Straffo

Once they were back in New York, Mame, Rayleen and Agnes Gooch were plunged into a whirlwind of activity. Mame was on the horn to her friends in the entertainment industry, setting up a benefit concert for the explosion's victims.

Vera Charles was eager to help. "During the Urbans, I trained as a medic, and I still remember a lot of what I learned. I don't think they need my help on that front, but I'm always up for helping the sick and injured!" She scowled. "I wonder how that explosion happened, anyway?"

Mame tapped her front teeth with the eraser on the pencil she was holding. "I don't know myself, dear. The reports I have aren't very clear. I do know that dear Lieutnant Dallas was apparently at the epicenter of the explosion. She's alive, at last report, but in a bad way in the hospital."

"Thank God!" Vera looked quite sincere when she said that, but Rayleen never forgot that Vera was a professional actress, quite well able to fake emotion on command. She was always very wary around Vera, since Vera was one of the people likeliest to see through her act. "But there were quite a few others injured, as well."

"That's true. The odd thing is, there was an explosion in the Davis Hotel, up on the fifth floor. The damage was confined to one room, but that room was overlooking the park in front of the Police Academy. The police think that had something to do with the earlier explosion in the park."

"No kiddin'? Who'd have thunk it?" Vera grinned evilly, and held out her glass to have her martini refilled. Wordlessly, Rayleen poured from the pitcher, and Vera sipped, giving Rayleen a nod of thanks. Rayleen did have to admit that Mame's close, intimate friends did treat her very well indeed. Mame herself was very egalitarian, not having been born to wealth.

As soon as she could do so discreetly, Rayleen excused herself. Once she was in her room, with the door securely locked and barred, she hugged herself in sheer happiness. It looked like they had done it!

Roarke

Roarke was talking with the owner of the Davis Hotel. He had known the man for years, and they understood each other. He was from a family with long connections to the NYPSD, which also helped. "Tell me about this explosion up on the fifth floor!"

Danny Reagan turned on his computer. "Here's the security cameras' view of things, Roarke. As you can see, everything seems normal, until the explosion. The explosion gutted Room 524, but didn't affect anything outside of it. Thanks to our fireproof doors, the damage was confined to Room 524."

Roarke peered at the security videos. "I don't see anybody going into or coming out of Room 524."

"No, and that's the odd thing. The room was occupied…a young man from out of town. He was very quiet, stayed in almost all the time as far as we can tell, ate from room service. We can't find any trace of him, and he doesn't show up on any of the surveillance vids."

"Let me see the records you have on him." While Roarke had no official standing, Danny Reagan knew better than to antagonize him. The Reagans were real-estate people themselves, but they were aware that to someone like Roarke, or even Mame Burnside, they were like mice dealing with elephants. Danny nodded and called up the check-in records.

"I'll want to get these compared with the official records," Roarke said. "If this man isn't the person who tried to assassinate my wife, and hurt all those other people, I'll be very surprised!"

"I'm a mile ahead of you, Roarke," said Danny. "The records are already on their way to Police Central."