Title: Double Templars
Day/Theme: May 23: Sooner or later, he brings up the Templars
Series: "In Death" series by J.D. Robb
Characters: Eve, Peabody and McNab - along with a Roarke cameo
Rating: Upper PG-13, for Eve's language
Disclaimer: The In Death series and its characters are the property of J.D. Robb/Nora Roberts and not mine. For anyone confused about this author's policy on fanfiction, they can refer to this post.
Summary: A murder in Central Park during a gathering of medieval history lovers could possibly be tied back to the original Knights Templar.
Eve’s eyes burned with exhaustion. She took a moment to press her palms to her closed eyes in an exercise Dr. Mira had shown her one day. It surprised Eve when she realized the move actually worked and relieved some of the pressure. “Peabody, how many pots of coffee are we on?”
“Not counting the one McNab swiped when he went into Roarke’s office? Six.” Peabody pushed through data and for once, wasn’t able to appreciate the luxury of being able to work out of Eve’s home office.
It was suppose to be a very simple case, something open and shut. On the surface, the murder seemed very ordinary. A gathering in Central Park of medieval lovers had turned deadly when one of the costumed players got a little too involved in his role and decided to take out someone dressed as an opposing knight. But as Eve and Peabody dug further into the case, they learned that what seemed to be an accident had really been planned all along.
“Harold, Conor,” Eve recited, pulling up the case file for the victim once more. “Originally of Cambridge, England. Born 4 January 2030. Known activist in the Society for Creative Anachronism and apparently got a little too much into the make-believe. But not as much as the guy who decided to skew him with a lance did. Were you ever able to pop anything on a past record, Peabody?”
“No, Dallas.” Peabody pushed back from her unit and mimicked Eve’s earlier move with her eyes. “I did some cross-checks with various spellings of the name, just to see if anything springs.”
“Keep on it.” Eve stared at the files. “Thousands of people, Peabody, and not one fucking person thought to stop and question this bozo about the fact that he just took out another member of his team.”
“Many of them were dressed similar,” Peabody pointed out. “The killer was part of the group playing the Knights Templar. He probably had a change of clothes underneath the robes.”
A picture was beginning to form in Eve’s head. “I can see it,” she said, nodding. “One sweep of the robes and he would look like any other person going to see the show.” Eve crossed over to the door connecting hers and Roarke’s offices. “Check with the sweepers, Peabody,” she ordered as the door slid open. “I want them to check the bathrooms, trash cans, anything for a discarded set of those robes. I’m going to see if McNab actually wants to start playing cop instead of drooling all over Roarke’s toys.”
Peabody sniffed a little. “McNab playing a cop would be a new one to me, Sir.”
“Now, you’re just jealous because EDD got those system upgrades before you did, She-Body,” McNab replied as he walked out of Roarke’s office. “But that’s nothing compared to the model Roarke Industries has coming out next month. It’s the ult. It’s...”
“You can have your technological orgasm later,” Eve snapped, nudging McNabb back into her office. She spotted Roarke at his desk, giving the group an amused look. “I’ll have the three-ring circus back at Central after they finish fumigating my office.”
“It amazes me, Lieutenant, how you managed to have rat poison in lethal doses in your office, especially after Peabody told me you had to call Maintenance about your vehicle once again,” Roarke said lightly.
“Annual extermination sweep, my ass. When I get done with Maintenance, they’ll be the ones exterminated,” Eve vowed and stepped back over the threshold into her own office. Amused, Roarke followed.
“Now, let’s get back to murder.” Eve picked up Conor Harold’s picture and tacked it to her murder board. She took a step back, studied it. “What the hell is a Templar?”
“The Templars?” McNab’s head shot up the couch, where he sat bent over a portable unit. “They’re mag! You think one of the members has something to do with this?”
“No,” Peabody snapped at him. She rolled her eyes. “Sooner or later, he has to bring up the Templars. Not those Templars, McNabb. Think medieval times.”
“The Knights Templar was a group of warrior-monks during the Middle Ages. The Templars that Ian mentioned are a punk rock group originally formed in the 1990s,” Roarke explained. “They are named for the original knights, however.”
“They’re skinheads,” McNab added. “The music rocks though. Lots of this came from these old vids based around the concept that the scorned Templars came back to life in order to get revenge on those who killed them.”
Eve glanced at McNab, catching onto the last sentence he said. “Really? Elaborate.”
“I’ll get another pot of coffee,” Peabody volunteered and ducked into the mini-kitchen as McNabb prepared to share with Eve everything he knew about the punk rock band.