“Serious about his work,” she murmured. “Lived his work.”

She backtracked to the stairs and up to the officer on the door of the holo-room.

“This door was secured?”

“The girlfriend states it was, sir, and the coms shut down. The droid confirms. It had emergency bypass clearance. The log shows the victim entering, then securing the room at sixteen thirty-three. No other entry or attempted entry until nine-eighteen this morning.”

“Okay.” Both Eve and Peabody opened their field kits, sealed up. “Record on,” she said and stepped to the doorway.

She wasn’t often surprised. She’d been a cop nearly a dozen years, and though she knew she hadn’t seen it all-you never did-she’d seen plenty.

But her long brown eyes widened briefly as she took in the scene. “Now, this is something you don’t see every day.”

“Man. Oh, man.” Peabody sucked in a sharp breath.

“Don’t even think about booting.”

“Have to think about it.” Peabody swallowed hard. “Won’t do it.”

The body lay sprawled, arms and legs splayed in the bloody pool that spread over the floor. The head sat several feet away, the filmed eyes wide, the mouth in a gaping O.

“It must be said the victim lost his head, which is a pretty good guess for cause of death. Alone in a secured holo-room, no weapons. Interesting. Well, let’s have a look.”

She heard Peabody swallow again.

“Take the play board, see what he programmed,” she ordered. “And I want all security discs and logs, building and for this unit.”

“On that,” Peabody said, grateful for the reprieve as Eve crossed to the body.

For the record, Eve verified the fingerprints.