Death In The Shell Ch 02

It was decided by Roarke, that they would make contact with Motoko Kusanagi via Roarke's private office with the Unregistered, to hide any record of the conversation. Because Eve had the exact code to Motoko's link, she was able to place the call directly to her teacher without much incident.

Motoko still looked the way she did when she rescued Eve in Texas, still wearing the purple hair and red eyes and this time wearing her officers uniform. She looked at Eve with a smile through that big screen.

"How have you been doing, little one?"

It gave Eve a sense of warmth to have Motoko call her that after all these years, even as her mind was all serious.

"Major, I need your help with something."

Motoko raised her hand on screen, "Say no more, Dallas, I've been hearing about what's happened on screen."

"Then you know I've been suspended because I've been suspected of murdering a fellow officer?"

"That but I've also been hearing about you investigating the deaths of the sidewalk sleepers this past week," Motoko replied in between sips of her coffee and finally began to notice Roarke. "Is that your husband right beside you?"

Eve nodded, "He's the only one who knows about you, Major, I had to tell him because I was going to need your help."

"She didn't give you much of a shock, did she, Roarke?" Motoko asked referring to Eve blowing her cover story.

Roarke took a few minutes to look at Eve again then back at Motoko and the physical similarities they shared. Similar hair and facial features but Motoko having a bigger chest size compared to Eve's.

"Yes at first," he replied. "I almost felt a little sick to my stomach, but then I realized that she was still the woman I love, she's my heart and my soul."

Eve turned to look at Roarke to see him give a smile, "My cop."

Motoko gave a smile that mirrored Roarke's "She really is something, isn't she?"

Before Roarke could answer, Eve said, "Alright, guys, this is no time to get mushy we need to get to work."

"Of course, Eve." Motoko using her name meant that it was time to get serious. "Give me details of your case to the best of your knowledge."

Like Eve would give a verbal briefing to Whitney, she briefed The Major on everything from the murder of Samuel Petrinsky, Erin Spindler, Jilessa Brown and Ellen Bowers. She even gave details on her conversations with other officers in London, France and Chicago about similar incidences that happened on their watch.

Roarke listened to Eve give every detail of the case to Motoko and didn't make an effort to hide how mildly impressed his girl was at the memory she was able to retain. 'This was probably a product of Motoko's training.' Roarke thought.

"So we got someone out there killing sidewalk sleepers, licensed companions and a cop who caused your suspension?" Motoko asked.

"Yes, Major, and I may add that prior to my suspension, I was asked by East Washington to be removed from this case, it made me realize that this case might be a lot deeper than either me or my peers anticipated."

Motoko nodded in agreement, "When you got multiple murders happening in multiple parts of the globe, the world would start to worry about their safety."

Just then a beep from Roarke's personal link came from his pants pocket, he proceeded to excuse himself from the office so he could answer it.

"That's why I'm calling for you, Major," Eve said after Roarke left the room. "There's cause for you and The Ghost Organization to claim jurisdiction on this case. I'm not exactly asking to be let back on this case, but if there's anyone that can solve it and solve it thoroughly, I know it's you."

Before Eve could say another word, Motoko raised a hand to silence her. "There's not a doubt in my mind that this murderer is causing international chaos, we obviously don't know why, but we do have to find him and stop him before he rabbits out of New York. Therefore The Ghost Organization will talk with Chief Tibble and request for any and all relevant case-files."

Just then Roarke came back in the office, "Summerset has informed me that Baxter has come in and requested for your interview."

"Just give me a few minutes Roarke, I'm almost done." Eve replied before looking back at Motoko. "Is there anything I need to do, Major?"

Motoko nodded, "I need you to give your statement to your detective but not before you give him this."

Just then a piece of paper was printed from the Unregistered's U-shape console and Eve picked up the paper to give it a quick scan. She quickly realized it was a letter of resignation. The words she read made her stomach mildly uncomfortable, but she was able to put it aside when she looked back at the Major.

"You'll more than likely be cleared of suspected wrongdoing and they will likely let you back in," Motoko said as if she read the Lieutenant's mind. "But before you go back, I'm going to need your help with a case Batou and I have been working on."

"But are you going to let me back in this case?"

Motoko nodded "You will become an interim agent of The Ghost Organization and you will be under my command and Batou's. I request that you stay with us until you help us solve our own case."

Eve and Motoko knew that this conversation had a yes or no option. If Eve wanted to ride the suspension, she could tell Motoko to not let Ghost take over the case and let Feeney handle it. But if there was one thing she learned from Motoko and Batou, it was to never leave a case wide open, to always close it by any legal means necessary. And if her resigning from the NYPSD would help her solve this case, she'd be damned if anyone was going to do it but her.

"Very well, Major, I accept your terms."

Motoko gave Eve a small smile and said "Go ahead and take care of business, little one and I will expect you to report at the Ghost Building at 0900."

"Yes, Major," was the last thing Eve said before the call ended.

ooooOOOOoooo

"Little one?" Roarke asked Eve as they exited the private office.

"It's always been her nickname for me, Ace," Eve replied with her nickname for Roarke. "It's what she called me when I woke up in that hospital."

Roarke then told Summerset to send Baxter up to his office but he wasn't allowed to use the elevator.

"Why are you making him take the stairs?" Eve asked.

"I need to talk to you for a few minutes more, Eve," Roarke gazed at the paper in your hand. "Your friends are going to be sad when they find out about you resigning."

"I know," Eve agreed. "Left me nearly sick to my stomach when I read it."

But without hesitation, Eve reached for Roarke's desk pen to sign the resignation letter. "I've worked cases with The Ghost Organization before I joined the NYPSD, those cases had potential to wipe out Countries, Governments, Financial Sectors and the Internet. Whatever case they may be working on, I have a strong feeling that it might involve the potential destruction of New York."

"You realized that you gave them a yes answer without consulting me," Roarke's face got serious. "There's a chance that whatever you need to help them on, might have you taken out of the country, or off planet."

Eve nodded in acknowledgment. "And I owe you an apology for it, Roarke. But that flashback dream I had with Motoko made me realize that I need to be away from the NYPSD and that I need to think about where I stand."

"I don't want to lose you, Eve, ever." Roarke skimmed a finger down the dent in her chin, "That's why I'm coming with you."

"Then put your trust in The Major and we'll make it out alive, Roarke." Eve placed a chaste kiss on his lips to seal the promise.

ooooOOOOoooo

Detective David Baxter entered Roarke's office, being forced to take the stairs by Roarke's personal butler Summerset. He gave Roarke a long, wary look then turned to Eve. "I've got something to say before we go on record."

"Okay." She stuck her hands in her pockets, nodded. "Go ahead."

"This bites."

Her lips twitched, her shoulders relaxed. He looked a great deal more uncomfortable and unhappy than she felt. "Yeah, it does. So let's get it over with."

"You call your lawyer?"

"No." She shifted her gaze to Roarke's. "He's my rep for this little party."

"Alright," Baxter replied on a sigh. "I don't want him doing any funny business." He pulled out his recorder, then just held it gripped in his hand. Misery was all over his face. "Damn it. We go back some way, you know, Dallas."

"Yeah, I know. Just do the job, Baxter. It'll be easier all around."

"Nothing easy about it," he muttered, then switched the recorder on, set it on the desk. He read off the time and date data, the revised Miranda. "You know the drill, right?"

"I know my rights and obligations." Because her legs were a little weak, she sat. It was different, she thought dully, so very different to be on this side of the line. "I want to make a statement. Then you can go for the details."

It was like a report, Eve told herself. Like any of the hundreds of reports she'd written and filed over the years.

Routine.

She would think of it that way, had to think of it that way to keep that icy ball out of her gut. Facts to be recorded. Observations to be made.

But her voice wasn't quite steady as she began. "When I responded to the scene of the Petrinsky homicide, I didn't remember Officer Ellen Bowers. Subsequently, I learned we had done some time at the academy together. I don't remember any encounters, conversations, or interactions with her before the meeting at the crime scene. Her work on-scene was inefficient, her attitude poor. As superior officer and primary on-scene, I reprimanded her for both problems. This incident is on record."

"We have Peabody's on-scene records. They're being evaluated," Baxter said.

The ball of ice tried to form, but she willed it away. And this time, her voice was stronger. "Bowers's trainee," Eve continued, "Officer Trueheart, proved to be observant and to know the residents of the area in question. I requested his assistance in interviewing a witness who was known to him, and his assistance proved helpful. This action on my part was not a personal decision but a professional one. Shortly thereafter, Officer Bowers filed a complaint against me, citing abusive language and other technical infractions. The complaint was answered."

"Those files and reports are also under evaluation." Baxter's voice was neutral, but his eyes signaled her to keep going. Get out her facts, tell her story clearly.

"Officer Bowers was again first on when I reported to the scene in the matter of Jilessa Brown. That incident is also on record and shows Bowers's insubordinate and unprofessional behavior. Her accusation that I contacted her with threatening remarks will be proved groundless when voice prints are examined. And her subsequent complaint has no base. She was an irritant to me, nothing more."

She wished she had water, just one quick sip, but didn't want to stop. "At the time she was killed, I was en route from Central to this location. As I understand it, this time frame gives me little opportunity to have sought Bowers out and to have killed her in the manner determined to have caused her death. My log records can be checked to verify, and I will, if required, submit to truth testing and evaluation so as to aid your investigation and the closing of this case."

Baxter looked at Eve and nodded. "You're sure as hell making my job easier."

She was half-tempted to bring up her resignation letter, but decided to keep silent.

"We've got to answer motive here. Ah..." His gaze shifted briefly, warily, to Roarke. He couldn't say he cared for—or trusted—the cold, blue stare that answered him. "Bowers's logs and diaries make certain accusations regarding you and certain members of the NYPSD. Ah... trading sex for professional gain."

"Have you ever known me to trade sex for anything, Baxter?" Her tone was dry, faintly amused. She worked fiercely to make it so. "I've managed to resist all your offers over the years."

His color rose. "Come on, Dallas." He cleared his throat when Roarke dipped his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. "You know all that's just the usual bull."

"Yeah, I know that." He was often a pain in the ass, she thought—not without some affection. He was also a good cop and a decent man. "And this is unusual bull. Straight out, then. I have never offered, traded, or engaged in any sexual behavior in order to receive special treatment in training or on the job. I earned my badge, and when I wore it... I respected it."

"You'll get it back."

"We both know there's no guarantee of that." Misery came back, swirled in her eyes as they met his. "But my chances are better if you find out who killed her and why. So you've got my cooperation."

"Okay. You say you didn't remember Bowers from the academy, yet she details a number of incidents about you in various logs over nearly twelve years. Logically, there must have been some contact between you."

"None that I'm aware of. I can't explain it, logically or otherwise."

"She claims knowledge of your misrepresentation of evidence, of mishandling of witnesses, of falsifying reports in order to close cases and enhance your record."

"Those are groundless accusations. I would demand to see proof." Temper began to inch up, washing healthy color back into her face and a steely gleam into her eyes. "She could have written any damn thing—that she had a flaming affair with Roarke, had six of his children, and raised golden retrievers in Connecticut. Where's the proof, Baxter?" She leaned forward, misery replaced by insult. "I can't do anything but deny, deny, deny. I can't even face her, because somebody took her out. She can't be officially interviewed, sanctioned, or reprimanded. Is anybody asking why she was murdered and my butt left swinging when I was investigating a series of deaths certain high levels didn't want investigated?"

He opened his mouth, shut it again. "I can't discuss departmental business with you, Dallas. You know that."

"No, you can't discuss shit with me, but I can speculate." She pushed out of the chair and began to pace. "Taking my badge doesn't mean they took my goddamn brain. If somebody wanted to cause me trouble, they didn't have to look far. Bowers fell right into their laps. Push her obsession, or whatever the hell it was she had for me, twist her up with it, then take her out in a brutal manner so the finger can point in my direction. I'm not only off the case, I'm out. I'm out," she repeated. "There's a new investigation, and the department's in the middle of a media frenzy screaming corruption, sex, and scandal that can't help but bog down the works and give whoever's slicing out parts of people time to cover more tracks."

She whirled back to him. "You want to close your case, Baxter, then look at the one I had to leave behind and find the link. There's a goddamn link, and Bowers was nothing more than a handy tool, easily disposed of. She meant nothing to me," she said, and for the first time, there was some pity in her voice. "She meant less to whoever had her killed. I was the target."

"The investigation is ongoing," Baxter reminded her. "Feeney's got your load."

"Yeah." Considering, she nodded slowly. "They miscalculated there."

The rest was form, and they both knew it. Standard questions with standard responses. And as the interview was drawing to a close, Eve immediately gave Baxter her the manila envelope. If her giving her badge and weapon to Whitney was like tearing a piece of her pride, the manila envelope would be like giving the other half of that pride. But if Whitney and Tibble didn't have a choice, then Eve didn't have any other choice but to go back to the people who raised her.

"You handled that very well," Roarke commented after Baxter left the office.

"He went easy on me. His heart wasn't in it."

"And I can tell your heart wasn't into apologizing for giving that folder to him."

"Because my heart wasn't in it," Eve said with a shaky breath. "He's a good cop. The NYPSD needs good cops, right now. It's going to wreck them to the core when they find out that they're going to have one less good cop."

Not able to hold back her sadness anymore, Eve laid her head against Roarke's chest and wept silently for a good long while. Roarke understood why she was weeping almost immediately. She was weeping for the fact that she may never see the people she called her friends ever again and that she wept over the fact that she was practically ending a dream that she had since she was a child.

When she finally calmed down, Eve looked at Roarke and said "They're going to get all the information related to the case, Roarke."

"How are they going to do that?"

"Because Motoko and her boys are part of the United Nations, they have a high-security clearance and have the right to reserve jurisdiction over any cases that they have an interest in. This case is more than enough for them to take over from the NYPSD."

"Do you plan to make the transfer a permanent fix?"

"It's for the best, Roarke, there would've been a likely chance that they may not reinstate me as a form of damage control. I'm better off serving the damage control myself and not deal with the red tape from it."

"They're going to suffer a deep loss, Eve."

"So am I, but this is something we need to do."

Suddenly, as if it hadn't done so in her time of grief, she felt her stomach growl.

"Well I know one thing that your stomach needs to have. Let us have some dinner, shall we, Lieutenant?"

Eve let out a smile as they made their way to their bedroom dining area for Roarke to prepare dinner.