-=O=-***-=O=-

Eve pushed through the doors and tried not to sigh over the line for the security scan. She chose the shortest for police and city officials, inched her way forward, and had just cleared when all hell broke loose.

She heard the shouts from the second level where Lewis's hearing was scheduled and, charging up the stairs, pushed her way through the crowd of lawyers and court groupies that had already gathered.

Lewis was on the floor, his face gray, his eyes rolled back.

"He just keeled over!" someone called out. "Just keeled right over. Somebody call the MTs. Get a doctor."

She was swearing as she charged forward, crouched down.

"Ma'am, you'll have to move back."

She looked up at the uniform. "Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. This one's mine."

"Sorry, Lieutenant. I've called for medical."

"He's not breathing." She straddled him, ripped open his shirt, and started CPR. "Get these people back. Lock down the area -- "

"Lock down -- "

"Lock it down," she ordered, and gave her breath to Lewis, knowing it was futile.

She worked on him until the medical techs arrived and pronounced him. Disgusted, she cornered his guard. "Report. I want to know everything that happened from the time you got him out of his cell."

"Standard, sir, right down the line." The uniform was ready to be resentful that anyone would point the finger at him because some hired hammer's heart went bad. "Due to the charges, the subject was cuffed, then transported here."

"Who was in the transport?"

"Myself and my partner. The orders were that he wasn't to come into contact with the other three suspects. We walked him through, walked him up to this level."

"You didn't use the secured elevator?"

"No, sir." He twitched very slightly at that. "It was jammed, Lieutenant. We brought him up the steps. He didn't give us any trouble. His lawyer was here and asked us to wait a moment until he'd finished up a consult with another client, via palm-link. We stood by, then the subject staggered and fell. He gasped for breath, and while my partner checked him over, I attempted to keep the crowd at a distance. Shortly thereafter, you arrived on the scene."

"What precinct are you with?" She skimmed a glance over his nameplate. "Officer Harmon."

"Sir, I'm assigned to Central, Security Division."

"Who approached or had contact with the subject?"

"No one, sir. My partner and I flanked him, per procedure."

"Are you telling me no one came close to this guy before he dropped?"

"No. That is, we went through security, as required. There were a number of people on line, and a number moving through the area. But no one spoke to the deceased or had physical contact with him. Someone stopped my partner and inquired about directions to the civil court area."

"The person who wanted directions -- how close did he get to the subject?"

"She, sir. It was a female. She appeared to be in some distress and stopped as we were walking by each other."

"Get a good look at her, Harmon?"

"Yes, sir. Early twenties, blonde, blue eyes, fair complexion. She'd been crying, sir, was crying but trying not to, if you understand me. She was visibly distressed, and when she dropped her handbag some of the contents scattered."

"I bet you and your partner were very helpful picking up those items for her."

Her tone alerted him, and Harmon began to feel slightly ill. "Sir. It couldn't have taken more than ten seconds, and the suspect was restrained and never out of our sight."

"Let me show you something, Harmon, and you can tell your partner once he finishes jerking off." She signaled the MTs aside. "Come down here," she ordered, once again crouching by the body. "Do you see this faint red mark, the small circular mark over the deceased's heart?"

He had to look hard, but since he was now close to terrified, Harmon all but jammed his nose against Lewis's chest. "Yes, sir."

"Do you know what that is, Officer?"

"No, sir. No, sir, I don't."

"It's the mark left by a pressure syringe. Your weepy blonde assassinated your charge under your goddamn nose."