“Ah, Jack. Jack Carter.”
“Carter, Jack, regarding the unattended death of Mathias, Drew. Carter, you shared suite ten thirty-six with the deceased.”
“Yeah, for the past five months. We were friends.”
“Tell me about tonight. What time did you get home?”
“I don’t know. About twelve thirty, I guess. I had a date. I’ve been seeing someone—Lisa Cardeaux—she’s one of the landscape designers. We wanted to check out the entertainment complex. They were showing a new video. After that, we went to the Athena Club. It’s open to the complex employees. We had a couple of drinks, listened to some music. She’s got an early day tomorrow, so we didn’t stay late. I took her home.” He smiled weakly. “Tried to talk her into letting me come up, but she wasn’t having any.”
“Okay, so you struck out with Lisa. Did you come straight home?”
“Yeah. She’s just over at the staff bungalow. She likes it there. Doesn’t want to close herself up in a hotel room. That’s what she says. It only takes a couple minutes on the glide to get back here. I came up.” He drew a breath, rubbed a hand over his heart as if to calm it. “Drew had the door secured. He had a thing about that. Some of the crew leave the locks off, but Drew had all that equipment, and he was paranoid about anybody messing with it.”
“Is the palm plate coded for anyone but the two of you?”
“No.”
“Okay, then what?”
“I saw him. Right away. That’s when I went up to you.”
“All right. When’s the last time you saw him alive?”
“This morning.” Carter rubbed his eyes, trying to visualize the normality of it. Light, food, mumbling conversation. “We had some breakfast.”
“How was he? Upset, depressed?”
“No,” Carter’s eyes focused then, and were for the first time animated. “That’s what I can’t get through my head. He was fine. He was joking around, yanking my chain about Lisa because I haven’t—you know—scored. We were needling each other, just friendly shit. I said he hadn’t scored in so long he wouldn’t know it if he did. And why didn’t he get himself a woman and come along with us tonight to see how it was done.”
“Was he seeing anyone?”
“No. He always talked about this babe he was hung up on. She wasn’t on the station. The babe. That’s what he called her. He was going to use his next free cycle to pay her a visit. He said she had it all, brains, beauty, body, and a sex drive that wouldn’t quit. Why should he play with lesser models when he had state of the art?”
“You don’t know her name?”
“No. She was just The Babe. To be honest, I figure he made her up. Drew wasn’t what you’d call babe material, you know. And he was shy around women and really into fantasy games and his autotronics. He was always working on something.”
“What about other friends?”
“He didn’t have many. He was quiet around a lot of people, internal, you know?”
“He use chemicals, Carter?”
“Sure, your basic stimulant if he was pulling an all-nighter.”
“Illegals, Carter. Did he use?”
“Drew?” His tired eyes popped wide. “No way. Absolutely no way. He was a total arrow, straight as they come. He wouldn’t mess with illegals, Lieutenant. He had a good mind, and he wanted to keep it that way. And he wanted to keep his job, move up. You get tossed for that kind of shit. Only takes one time on a spot check.”
“Are you sure you’d have known if he decided to experiment?”
“You know someone you hang with for five months.” Carter’s eyes went sad again. “You get used to them—habits and everything. Like I said, he didn’t hang with other people much. He was happier alone, fiddling with his equipment, diving into his role-playing programs.”
“A loner then, internal.”
“Yeah, that was his way. But he wasn’t upset, he wasn’t depressed. He kept saying that he was onto something big, some new toy. He was always onto a new toy,” Carter murmured. “He said just last week that he was going to make a fortune this time, and give Roarke a run for his money.”
“Roarke?”