-=O=-***-=O=-
In just over an hour, she was standing, with Peabody, at another door. Bayliss lived in a stylish neighborhood in a stylish suburb of New York. His home was a graceful if unimaginative two-story dwelling in a tidy forest of others like it. Lawns were rigorously mowed, tastefully fenced, and security lighted.
The house itself was dark and silent, with a discreet plaque by the door warning that the premises was guarded by Alarm Dog Security Systems, Inc.
Still, when she rang the bell, the summons was almost immediately answered by a polite request for identification.
"Police." Eve held up her badge. "I have a warrant. You're required to open the door.
It was opened, quickly, by an attractive house droid in a simple gray maid's uniform. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant, neither Captain nor Mrs. Bayliss are at home this evening."
"And where would they be?"
"Mrs. Bayliss is in Paris on a spring shopping trip with her sister. She has been from home for three days. I am unable to tell you where Captain Bayliss is this evening. He is not at home."
"This warrant allows me to enter the premises and ascertain that for myself."
"Yes, Lieutenant. I am fully programmed on the law." She stepped back. "But you will find the captain is not at home this evening."
Eve stepped in. "Has he been home today?"
"Oh yes. He arrived home at shortly after four o'clock this afternoon. He left approximately fifty-eight minutes later. I do not expect him to return tonight."
"And why is that?"
"The captain left with a suitcase."
"Where's his room? His bedroom?"
"On the second level, first door to the left. Would you like me to escort you?"
"No." Eve bounded up the stairs, shoved into the room, swore.
He'd been in a hurry, she thought. The closet door was open, two drawers were open as well.
"Another clothes horse," she muttered. "Hard to say how much he took. Peabody, find out where the wife's staying in Paris. He's got a weekend place, vacation home, whatever. I think it was the Hamptons. Get the address."
"Do you think he's gone under?"
"I think he's gone," Eve said sharply. "Get the addresses. He's got to have an office in this place. I'm going to check it out."
She found his office on the first level and had already formed an opinion of Bayliss's lifestyle by the time she reached it. The house was as cold and as organized as a computer. Everything in its place.
And, she'd noted, he and his wife didn't share a bedroom. Or, she assumed, a bed, as the bedroom down the hall from Bayliss's was an obvious feminine retreat, complete with dressing area, two-level walk-in closet, and a sitting area that had contained a desk holding fancy writing paper with his wife's name at the top.
His office was ruthlessly organized as well, and she saw immediately he'd run through it quickly. The desk chair was pushed back, and a file box of discs stood with its cover not quite straight.
Nerves, she thought. Nerves that made him not quite so smart and not quite so careful this time. What are you afraid of, Bayliss?
She pulled out her palm-link and, using her badge and identification, ran checks on transportation to Paris. Though she found nothing under Bayliss's name, she couldn't be sure he hadn't used an alias.
She walked to the door, gave a shout to Peabody, who came on the run. "I have the information for you." She ran it off.
"Good. We're going to stretch the warrant to its limit. I want you to contact Feeney. That unit," she said, jerking her thumb back. "I want it gone over with microgoggles. He took data with him, but Feeney will find what's on the machine. While he's doing that, I want you going over this house inch by inch."
"Yes, sir. Where are you going?" she asked as Eve strode out.
"I'm going to the beach."