Read Ceremony in Death Online

Authors: J. D. Robb

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #New York (N.Y.), #Women Sleuths, #Mystery Fiction, #Police, #Romantic suspense fiction, #Police Procedural, #Political, #Policewomen, #Police - New York (State) - New York, #Dallas; Eve (Fictitious Character)

Ceremony in Death (6 page)

Eve engaged the ‘link, requested a replay of the last call transmitted or received. And the room rilled with low, rhythmic chanting.

“What the hell is that?”

“I don’t know.” Uneasy, Peabody stepped closer.

“Replay,” Eve demanded.

“Hear the names. Hear the names and fear them. Loki, Beelzebub, Baphomet. I am annihilation. I am revenge. In nomine Dei nostri Santanas Luciferi excelsi. Vengeance for you who strayed from the law. Hear the names and fear.”

“Stop.” Eve gave a quick, involuntary shudder. “Beelzebub, that’s devil shit, isn’t it? The bastards were playing with her, tormenting her. And she was already on the edge. No wonder she ran out of here. Where were you, you son of a bitch, where were you? Location of last transmission. Display.” Her mouth thinned as she read the data. “Tenth and Seventh, right down the goddamn street. Probably a public ‘link. Fuckers. She was heading right for them.”

“There wasn’t anyone there.” But Peabody was watching Eve’s face now, and the fury that fired in her eyes. “Even with the fog, the rain, I would have seen someone if they’d been laying for her. There wasn’t anything there but a cat.”

Eve’s heart took a bad jump. “A what?”

“Just a cat. I caught a glimpse of a cat, but there was no one on the street.”

“A cat.” Eve walked to the window. Suddenly, she felt the need for a good gulp of air. There, on the sill, she saw the long, black feather. “And a bird,” she murmured. She took out tweezers, held the feather up to the light. “We’ve still got the occasional crow in New York. A crow’s the same thing as a raven, isn’t it?”

“More or less. I think.”

“Bag it,” Eve ordered. “I want it analyzed.” She rubbed her fingers over her eyes as if to push away fatigue. “Next of kin would be Brenda Wojinski, mother. Run that for an address.”

“Yes, sir.” Peabody took out her PPC, then simply held it while shame washed over her. “Lieutenant, I’d like to apologize for my earlier comment and my behavior.”

Eve took the disc from the ‘link, sealed it herself. “I don’t recall any comment, Peabody, or any unsatisfactory behavior.” She gave Peabody a level look. “While the recorder is still engaged, do another scan of the apartment.”

Understanding, Peabody inclined her head. “I’m aware the recorder is still engaged, Lieutenant. I want this on the record. I was insubordinate and out of line both professionally and personally.”

Damn stiff-necked idiot, Eve thought and bit back an oath. “There was no insubordination in my opinion or in my recollection, Officer.”

“Dallas.” Peabody loosed a sigh. “I damn well was. I was shaky and having a hard time dealing with the situation. It’s one thing to see a body after it’s done, and another to see a woman get tossed ten feet in the air and land on the pavement. She was under my watch.”

“I was rough on you.”

“Yes, sir, you were. And you needed to be. I thought that because you were able to maintain, you were able to do your job, it meant you didn’t care. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

“Acknowledged. Now, put this on record, Peabody. You followed orders, you followed procedure. You were not at fault for what happened tonight. You could not have prevented it. Now, put it aside so we can find out why she’s dead.”

Eve thought that a cop’s daughter knew when another cop knocked on the door at five in the morning, it was with news of the worst kind. She saw, the minute Brenda recognized her, that she was right.

“Oh God. Oh God. Mama?”

“No, it’s not your mother, Ms. Wojinski.” There was only one way, Eve knew, and that was fast. “It’s Alice. May we come in?”

“Alice?” She blinked glazed eyes, propped a hand on the door for balance. “Alice?”

“I think we should go inside.” As gently as possible, Eve took her arm, stepped through the door. “Let’s go in and sit down.”

“Alice?” she said again. Grief cracked the glaze over her eyes. Tears poured through. “Oh no, not my Alice. Not my baby.”

Brenda swayed, would have slid to the floor, but Eve tightened her grip and headed quickly for the nearest seat. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for your loss, Ms. Wojinski. There was an accident early this morning, and Alice was killed.”

“An accident? No, you’ve made a mistake. It was someone else. It wasn’t Alice.” She clutched at Eve, flooded eyes pleading. “You can’t be sure it was my Alice.”

“It was. I’m sorry.”

She collapsed then, burying her face in her hands, pressing her hands to her knees so her body was balled in a defensive shield.

“I could make her some tea,” Peabody murmured.

“Yeah, go.” It was the part of the job that made Eve feel the most helpless, the most inadequate. There was no solution for fresh grief. “Is there someone I can call for you? Do you want me to contact your mother? Your brother?”

“Mama. Oh God, Alice. How will we bear it?”

There was no answer for that, Eve thought. Yet they would. Life demanded it. “I can give you a soother, or contact your doctor, if you’d prefer.”

“Mom?”

As Brenda continued to rock, Eve looked over. The boy stood in the doorway, blinking sleepy, confused eyes. His hair was tousled from sleep and he wore grubby sweatpants with holes at the knees.

Alice’s brother, Eve remembered. She’d forgotten.

Then he focused on Eve, his eyes suddenly alert, and much too adult. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. “What’s happened?”

What the hell was his name? Eve struggled to remember, then decided it didn’t matter at the moment. She rose. He was a tall boy, she realized, with sleep creases in his cheeks and a body already braced to take the worst. “There’s been an accident. I’m sorry but — “

“It’s Alice.” His chin quivered, but his eyes stayed steady on hers. “She’s dead.”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

He continued to stare at her as Peabody came in with a cup of tea, set it awkwardly on the table. “What kind of accident?”

“She was hit by a car early this morning.”

“Hit and run?”

“No.” Eve watched him carefully, considering. “She stepped into the path of a cab. The driver was unable to stop. We’re in the process of analyzing his vehicle and the scene, but there was a witness who corroborates the driver’s statement. I don’t believe he was at fault. He didn’t attempt to flee the scene, and his driving record is clean.”

The boy simply nodded, dry-eyed, while his mother’s weeping filled the room. “I’ll take care of her. It’d be best if you left us alone now.”

“All right. If you have any questions, you can reach me at Cop Central. I’m Lieutenant Dallas.”

“I know who you are. Leave us alone now,” he repeated and went to sit by his mother.

“The kid knows something,” Eve stated as they stepped outside.

“That would be my take. Maybe Alice felt more comfortable talking to him than other members of the family. They were pretty close in age. Brothers and sisters squabble, but they confide in each other.”

“I wouldn’t know.” She started her car, pined for coffee. “Where the hell do you live, Peabody?”

“Why?”

“I’ll drop you at home. You can catch some sleep, report to Central at eleven.”

“Is that what you’re going to do, catch some sleep?”

“Yeah.” That was probably a lie, but it served her purposes. “Which way?”

“I live on Houston.”

Eve winced only a little. “Well, if it’s going to be inconvenient, it might as well be way inconvenient.” She headed south. “Houston? Peabody, you bohemian.”

“It was my cousin’s place. When she decided to move to Colorado and weave rugs, I took it over. Rent control.”

“A likely story. You probably spend all your free time hanging at poetry bars and performance art clubs.”

“Actually, I prefer the mating lounges. Better food.”

“You’d probably get more sex if you didn’t think about it so much.”

“No, I tried that, too.” She yawned, abruptly and hugely. “Sorry.”

“You’re entitled. When you report in, check on the status of the autopsy. I want to be sure there’s nothing weird in the tox report. And make sure to change out of that silly dress.”

Peabody shifted on her seat. “It’s not that silly. A couple guys at the Aquarian seemed to like it. So did Roarke.”

“Yeah, he mentioned it.”

Jaw dropped, Peabody swiveled her head. “He did? Really?”

Foolishness, Eve thought, helped soothe. “He said something about you looking appealing. So I hit him. Just in case.”

“Appealing. Jesus.” Peabody patted her heart. “I’m going to have to dig through some of the other stuff my mother’s made for me. Appealing.” She sighed. “Roarke doesn’t have any brothers, cousins, uncles, does he?”

“As far as I know, Peabody, he’s one of a kind.”

She found him dozing. Not in bed, but on the sofa in the sitting area of the master suite. The moment she stepped into the room, his eyes opened.

“You’ve had a long, rough one, Lieutenant.” He reached out a hand. “Come here.”

“I’m going to grab a shower, some coffee. I’ve got some calls to make.”

He’d tagged onto the police scanner and knew exactly what she’d been dealing with. “Come here,” he repeated, and closed his hand over hers when she reluctantly obliged. “Are the calls going to make any difference if you make them an hour from now?”

“No, but — “

So he tugged until she tumbled onto the sofa with him. Because her struggle was only halfhearted, he managed to snuggle her down beside him quickly. And wrapping an arm around her, he kissed her hair. “Sleep a little,” he said quietly. “There’s no need to exhaust yourself.”

“She was so young, Roarke.”

“I know. Close it off, just for a little while.”

“The data? Frank’s log. Did you find anything?”

“We’ll talk about it after you sleep.”

“An hour. Just an hour.” Linking her fingers with his, she let herself go under.

CHAPTER FIVE

Sleep helped. So did the hot shower and the food Roarke ordered up. Eve shoveled eggs into her mouth as she studied the data he’d unearthed on-screen.

“More like a diary than an investigative log,” she decided. “Lots of personal comments, and obviously he was worried about Alice. ‘I’m not sure how deeply they’ve influenced her mind, or hurt her heart.’ He was thinking like a grandfather, not like a cop. You got this off his home unit?”

“Yes. He had it coded and passkeyed. I suspect he didn’t want his wife stumbling across it.”

“If he had it coded, how did you access?”

Roarke took a cigarette from a carved box, studied it. “You don’t really want me to explain that, do you? Lieutenant?”

“No.” Eve forked up more eggs. “Guess not. Still, his personal thoughts and worries aren’t going to be a lot of help. I need to know what he found out, and how far his private investigation went before he died.”

“There’s more.” Roarke scrolled over dates. “There, he talks about tailing Selina Cross, and lists some of her… associates.”

“But there’s nothing there. He suspects she’s dealing illegals. He believes she’s holding unacceptable ceremonies in her club and perhaps her home. He observes suspicious characters coming and going, but he bases it all on emotion. No facts. Frank had been off the streets too long.” Eve set her plate aside and rose. “If he didn’t want to involve cops, why the hell didn’t he at least hire a PI to handle the leg-work? What’s this?”

Frowning, she stepped closer to the screen.

I think she made me. Can’t be sure, but it’s almost as though she’s leading me along now. I’m going to have to make a move soon. Alice is terrified, begging me to stay away from Cross, and from her. The poor kid spends too much time with that Isis character. Isis may be a harmless weirdo, but she can’t be a good influence on Alice. I’ve told Sally I’m working late. Tonight, I’m going in. Cross spends Thursday nights at the club. The apartment should be empty. If I can get inside and find anything, anything at all to prove Alice saw a child murdered, I can report to Whitney anonymously. She’s going to pay for what she and her filthy lover did to my little girl. One way or the other, she’s going to pay.

“Christ, nighttime breaking and entering, illegal search and seizure.” Frustrated, Eve dragged both hands through her hair. “What the hell was he thinking? He had to know that anything he found would get tossed out in court. He’d never nail them this way.”

“I have a feeling he wasn’t worried about court, Eve. He wanted justice.”

“And now he’s dead, isn’t he? And so’s Alice. Where’s the rest?”

Roarke scrolled to the last entry.

Security’s too tight on the building, couldn’t get through it. I’ve been off the streets too damn long. I may have to tag someone to help me on this after all. I’m going to see that witch pays if it’s the last thing I do.

“That’s all on this — that entry was logged on the night before he died. There may be more, under a different code.”

So, he hadn’t made her pay, Eve thought. And he hadn’t had time to get help. Not enough time, she thought again with twin surges of relief and sorrow. The entries went a long way toward clearing both Frank and Feeney.

“But you don’t think so. You don’t think there’s anything else.”

“No, I don’t. There’s the timing, of course. And he wasn’t that clever with electronics,” Roarke explained. “It was child’s play to find this. Still, we’ll look. It’ll take some time to break through if there’s anything there. And it’ll have to be later. I have several meetings this morning.”

She turned to him. Odd, she realized, she’d forgotten for a moment he wasn’t working with her. His business and the direction of it was in a much different sphere from hers. “So many billions, so little time.”

“How true. But I should be able to fiddle a bit more this evening.”

She knew he hadn’t so much as glanced at the stock reports or taken the morning calls that never failed to come in daily. “I’m taking up a lot of your time.”

“You are, indeed.” He came around the console, leaned back against it. “And the payment will be your time, Lieutenant. A day or two away when we can both manage it.” Then his smile faded. He took her hand, ran his thumb over the carving on her wedding ring. “Eve, I don’t like to interfere with your work, but I’ll ask you to be particularly careful in this matter.”

“A good cop’s always careful.”

“No,” Roarke said, looking into her eyes, “she’s not. She’s courageous, she’s smart, she’s driven, but she’s not always careful.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve dealt with worse than Selina Cross.” She kissed him lightly. “I’ve got to go in, check on some reports. I’ll try to let you know if I’m going to be late.”

“Do that,” he murmured, and watched her go.

She was wrong, he mused. He doubted very much if she’d ever dealt with worse than Selina Cross. And he had no intention of letting her deal with it alone. Moving to the ‘link, Roarke called his assistant and arranged to have all his off-planet and out-of-town trips for the next month canceled.

He intended to stay very close to home. And his wife.

“No drugs,” Eve stated as she looked over the toxicology report on Alice. “No alcohol. She wasn’t under the influence. But you heard her talking to someone who wasn’t there, and she runs out into the path of an oncoming cab. She’s worked herself up into a state of terror, then was triggered by the chanting on the phone. They knew how to get to her, how to manipulate her.”

“It’s not illegal to chant over a ‘link.”

“No.” Eve considered. “But is it illegal to threaten to harm over a public transmitter.”

“That’s reaching,” Peabody returned. “And it’s only a misdemeanor.”

“It’s a start. If we manage to tie the transmission to Selina Cross, we can hassle her. In any case, I think it’s time we met. How about a little trip to Hell, Peabody?”

“I’ve been dying to go.”

“Who isn’t?” But before she could rise, Feeney burst into her office. His eyes were shadowed, his face unshaven.

“Why are you primary on Alice’s case? A traffic accident. Why the hell is a homicide lieutenant handling a traffic fatality?”

“Feeney — “

“She was my goddaughter. You didn’t even call me. I heard it on the goddamn news.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Sit down, Feeney.”

He jerked away when she touched his arm. “I don’t need to sit down. I want answers, Dallas. I want some fucking answers.”

“Peabody,” Eve murmured, and waited until her aide had gone out and closed the door. “I am sorry, Feeney, I didn’t know you were her godfather. I spoke to her mother and her brother, and simply assumed they would let the rest of the family know.”

“Brenda’s under sedation,” Feeney tossed out. “What the hell do you expect? She lost her father and her daughter within days of each other. Jamie’s only sixteen. By the time he called a doctor and saw to his mother, got a hold of Sally, I’d already heard it on-screen. Jesus, Jesus, she was just a kid.”

He turned away, pulled at his hair. “I used to give her piggyback rides, sneak her candy.”

This was what it was like to lose someone you loved, she thought. And was grateful she loved so few. “Please sit down, Feeney. You shouldn’t have come in today.”

“I said I don’t need to sit down.” His voice leveled as he turned back to study her. “I want an answer, Dallas. Why are you on Alice’s accident?”

She couldn’t afford to hesitate, couldn’t afford not to lie. “Peabody was a witness,” she began, grateful she could give him that much. “She was on a free evening, and she’d been to a club. She saw the accident. It shook her, Feeney, and she called me. It was knee-jerk, I guess. I couldn’t be sure what had happened, so I told her to relay to Dispatch, to secure the scene, and I responded. Since I had, and I had all the data, I notified next of kin. I figured it would be easier on the family if I handled it.” She moved her shoulders, bitterly ashamed at using old friends. “I thought it was the least I could do, for Frank.”

He never took his eyes off her face. “Is that all of it?”

“What else is there? Listen, I just got the tox report. She wasn’t using, Feeney. She wasn’t drunk. Maybe she was still upset about Frank, or something else. I don’t know. Could be she didn’t even see the damn cab. It was a lousy night, fog, rain.”

“The bastard was speeding, wasn’t he?”

“No.” She couldn’t give him anyone to blame, couldn’t offer even that prickly comfort. “He was within the limit. His record’s clean, and so was the on-site drug and alcohol. Feeney, she bolted out in front of him, and there was nothing he could do. I want you to understand that. I talked with the driver myself, and I investigated the scene. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s.”

It had to be someone’s, he thought. He couldn’t lose two people back to back for no reason. “I want to talk to Peabody.”

“Give her a little time, will you?” Layers of guilt added onto the burden she already carried. “It really wrecked her. I’d really like to keep her focused on something else until she settles with it.”

He drew a deep breath, shuddered it out. Beneath his tearing grief was gratitude that someone he trusted would care for his godchild. “You’ll close it then, personally? And give me all the data?”

“I’ll close it, Feeney. I promise you.”

He nodded, rubbed his hands over his face. “Okay. I’m sorry I jumped you.”

“It’s all right. It doesn’t matter.” She hesitated, then put her hand on his arm, squeezed lightly. “Go home, Feeney. You don’t want to be here today.”

“I guess I will.” He put a hand on the door. “She was a sweetheart, Dallas,” he said quietly. “My God, I don’t want to go to another funeral.”

When he left, Eve sank into her chair. Misery and guilt and anger twisted around her throat like barbs. She rose again, grabbed her bag. She was, she told herself, in the perfect mood to meet Selina Cross.

“How do you want to play it?” Peabody asked as they pulled up in front of an elegant old building downtown.

“Straight. I want her to know Alice talked to me, and that I suspect her of harassment, dealing, and conspiracy to murder. If she’s got any brains, she’ll know I don’t have anything solid. But I’ll give her something to think about.”

Eve stepped out of the car, ran her gaze over the building with its carved glass windows and grinning gargoyles. “She lives here, she’s not hurting financially. We’re going to have to find out just where she gets her money. I want everything on record, Peabody, and keep your eyes open. I want your impressions.”

“I’ll give you one right now.” Peabody clamped her recorder onto her uniform jacket, but kept her eyes on the topmost window of the building, a wide, round glass intricately carved. “That’s another inverted pentagram. Satanic symbol. And those gargoyles don’t look friendly.” She smiled wanly. “You ask me, they look hungry.”

“Impressions, Peabody. Try to keep the fantasies down to a minimum.” Eve approached the security screen.

“Please state your name and your business.”

“Lieutenant Eve Dallas and aide, NYPSD.” She held up her badge to be scanned. “To see Selina Cross.”

“Are you expected?”

“Oh, I don’t think she’ll be surprised.”

“One moment.”

While she waited, Eve studied the street. There was plenty of pedestrian and vehicular traffic, she noted. But most of those who walked used the other side of the street, and many of those eyed her and the building warily.

Oddly, there wasn’t a single glida grill or street hawker in sight.

“You are cleared to enter, Lieutenant. Please proceed to elevator one. It is already programmed.”

“Fine.” Eve looked up, caught the shadow of movement behind the topmost glass. “Look official, Peabody,” she murmured as they approached the heavily grilled front doors. “We’re under observation.”

The grills slid back, locks snicked open. The light on a recessed security panel blinked from red to green. “A lot of hardware for an apartment building,” Peabody commented, and ignoring the fluttering in her stomach, stepped in behind Eve.

Like a viewing parlor, the lobby area was heavily into red. A two-headed serpent slithered over the bloodred carpet, the gold threads of its eyes glinted as it watched a black-robed figure slice a curved knife over the throat of a white goat.

“Lovely art.” Eve lifted a brow as Peabody carefully picked her way around the snake. “Wool doesn’t bite.”

“You can’t be too careful.” She glanced back as they stepped to the elevator. “I really hate snakes. My brother used to catch them out in the woods and chase me with them. Always had a phobia.”

The ride up was smooth and fast, but it gave Eve enough time to detect yet another security camera in the small, black-mirrored car.

The doors opened into a spacious foyer with floors of black marble. Twin red velvet settees flanked an archway and boasted carved arms of snarling wolves. A floral arrangement speared out of a pot shaped like a boar’s head.

“Wolfbane,” Peabody said quietly, “belladonna, foxglove, skullcap, peyote.” She shrugged at Eve’s considering look. “My mother’s an amateur botanist. I can tell you that’s not your usual flower arrangement.”

“But the usual is so tedious, isn’t it?”

They got their first face-to-face look at Selina Cross exactly as she wanted to be seen. Flanked by the archway in a snug black dress that brushed the floor, her feet bare with the toenails painted a violent red, she posed. And smiled.

Her skin was vampire white, the slash of red over her full lips glossy as fresh blood. Her eyes glittered green and feline in a narrow, undoubtedly witchlike face that wasn’t beautiful, but was eerily compelling. Her hair fell, black against black, from that rigid center part, to her waist.

The hand she gestured with held rings on every finger and her thumb. A silver chain was attached to each and twisted into an intricate mesh over the back of her hand.

“Lieutenant Dallas and Officer Peabody, isn’t it? What interesting visitors on such a dull day. Will you come in… to my parlor?”

“Are you alone, Ms. Cross? It would simplify this if we could speak with Mr. Alban as well.”

“Oh, what a shame.” She turned, silks whispering, and slipped through the arch. “Alban’s busy this morning. Sit down.” She gestured again, encompassing a generous room crowded with furniture. Every seat boasted the heads or claws or beaks of some predator. “Can I offer you something?”

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