Salvation in Death (17 page)

Satisfied, she walked with Roarke to the elevator. “It’s not as much fun to intimidate droids.”

“We have to take our small disappointments. Think of how you’ll enjoy interrogating Ulla.”

“Yeah.” She stepped on the elevator. “Maybe that’ll make up for it. I also could be chasing my tail by looking at this as essentially unconnected to my first murder, instead of going with the overt and obvious.”

“Trusting your instincts instead of the hard facts?”

“If I were to run a probability right now, I’m pretty damn sure I’d get high eighties that we’ve got the same killer on both.”

“And you think not.”

“I think not. I think I know who killed Jenkins. Not sure why yet.”

Eve got off the elevator, walked down to 1203. The Do Not Disturb light beamed from the door. She ignored it and knocked.

“Ulla Pintz, this is the police. Open the door.”

After several seconds of silence, Eve knocked again, gave the same command.

“Hello?” A high, quavery voice spoke through the speaker. “I’m, ah, indisposed. They said I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone until tomorrow.”

“They were wrong. You need to open the door, Ulla, or I’ll secure authorization to use my master.”

“I don’t understand.” Sniffles accompanied the words now as locks clicked off. “Samuel said we could come back, and not talk to anyone.” The door opened. “He’s a lawyer and everything.”

“I’m a cop and everything. Lieutenant Dallas,” Eve added, and deliberately said nothing about Roarke as they stepped in. “Rough night, huh, Ulla?”

“It’s so horrible.” Ulla wiped at her eyes. She’d taken off the poofy dress and wore the hotel’s white robe. She’d had enough time to remove several layers of stage makeup so her face was naked, pale, splotchy. And very young. “He
died.
Right in front of us. I don’t know how.”

Recognizing one who didn’t play damsel but simply was one, Roarke took her arm. “Why don’t you sit down?”

The room was small, but managed to cram in a tiny sitting area in addition to the bed. Roarke led her to a chair.

“Thank you. We’re all so upset. Jimmy Jay was so big and healthy and, and larger than life, so full of the energy of the Lord.” She made what Eve could only describe as a blubbery sound, then buried her face in a tissue. “I don’t know how he could be
gone
!”

“I’m working on finding out. Why don’t you tell me about your relationship with Jimmy Jay?”

As she lifted her head again, Ulla’s eyes popped wide, actually jittered. “Why do you say that? I sing. We sing. Me and Patsy and Carmella and Wanda, we’re the Eternal Lights. We make a joyful noise.”

It was late, Eve thought, and there wasn’t any point in screwing around. She sat on the foot of the bed so that her eyes were level with Ulla’s swimming ones. “We know, Ulla.”

Ulla’s gaze shot up, rolled away. Like a kid’s might when he denies snitching cookies even when his hand is stuck in the jar. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Ulla.”

When Roarke spoke before she could, Eve scowled at him. But his attention was focused on Ulla.

“Jimmy Jay would want you to tell us the truth. He needs your help. Someone killed him.”

“Oh my goodness. Oh gosh.”

“He needs you to tell us the truth so that we can find out who did this, so we can find the answers for those who loved him, who followed him. Who believed in him.”

Ulla clasped her hands together, pressed them in the deep valley between her very impressive breasts. “We all did. I think we’ll be lost without him, I really
do.
I don’t know how we’ll find the path to Enlightenment again.”

“The truth is the first step on the path.”

She blinked, her watery brown eyes fixed on Roarke. “Really?”

“You’re carrying a burden now, the burden of a secret. He wants you to lay it down and take that first step on the path. I’m sure of it.”

“Oh.” Her eyes stayed riveted on Roarke’s. “If I could! But I don’t want to do anything that would hurt him, or Jolene, or the girls. I’d just never forgive myself.”

“Telling us will help them, not hurt them. If they don’t need to know this answer, it won’t leave this room.”

She closed her eyes a moment while her lips moved in silent prayer. “I’m so confused. So sick in my heart. I want to help. I want to stay on the path.” Ulla spoke to Roarke. It was, Eve realized, as if she herself had poofed like smoke.

“I guess you could say that Jimmy Jay and I had a special bond. A relationship that transcended earthy barriers.”

“You loved each other,” Roarke prompted.

“We did. We did.” Gratitude poured through her voice at his understanding. “In a different way from the way he loved Jolene, and his girls, and how I love my almost fiancé, Earl, back in Tupelo.”

Ulla glanced at the photo beside her bed of a skinny man with a big, gummy grin.

“We created light with each other. And I helped him, with my body, gain the strength to preach the Word. It wasn’t just physical, you see. It wasn’t like, well, sex.”

Eve resisted, by a thin, thin thread, asking what the hell it was like if it wasn’t like sex.

“Though we gave each other pleasure, I don’t deny it.” Eyes leaking, and pleading for understanding, Ulla caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “But through the pleasure, we gained a deeper understanding. Not everyone understands the understanding, so we had to keep it just between the two of us.”

“Can I ask how long you had this special bond?” Eve put in.

“Four months, two weeks, and five days.” Ulla smiled sweetly. “We both prayed on it first, and that power—the spiritual power—was so strong, we knew it was right.”

“And how often did you . . . create light with each other?”

“Oh, two or three times a week.”

“Including this afternoon.”

“Yes. Tonight was a very big night, for all of us. It was so important that Jimmy Jay have all the light and energy we could make.”

She took another tissue, blew her nose delicately. “He came here this afternoon. I stayed in when the girls went out to do a little sightseeing before going to rehearsal. It took almost an hour. It was a special, special night, so we had to create a lot of light.”

“Did he ever give you anything?” Eve asked. “Money, presents.”

“Oh no, oh goodness. That would be wrong.”

“Uh-huh. Did you ever go out together? Travel together, a holiday, out to dinner?”

“No, oh no. We just came together in my room wherever we were. For the light. Or maybe, once or twice, backstage somewhere if he needed a little extra closer to preaching.”

“And you didn’t worry that you might be found out by someone who didn’t understand the understanding.”

“Well, I was, a little. But Jimmy Jay felt that we were shielded by our higher purpose, and our pure intentions.”

“No one ever confronted you about your relationship?”

Her lips moved into a soft, sad pout. “Not until now.”

“You never told, or hinted, to your friends? The other singers, your, ah, almost fiancé.”

“No, I didn’t. I was bound by my word. Jimmy Jay and I both swore right on the Bible that we’d never tell anyone. I hope it’s all right I’ve told you. You said—”

“It’s different now,” Roarke assured her.

“Because he’s gone to the angels. I’m so tired. I just want to say my prayers and go to bed now. Is that all right?”

 Back on the sidewalk, Eve leaned back against the side of her vehicle. “No way that was an act. She really is that gullible. She really is dumb as a sack of moondust.”

“Yet very sweet.”

Eve rolled her eyes toward him. “I think you have to have a penis to get that impression.”

“I do, and did.”

“Despite that—or probably because of it—you pushed the right buttons up there. You handled her very well, and got her to tell us without me having to threaten to haul her silly tits downtown.” She couldn’t stop the grin. “Set down the burden of the secret and step onto the path of righteousness.”

“Well, it was a theme. In any case, she’s the type who looks to the penis, in a manner of speaking, to tell her what to do, what to think. Jenkins used that. Or maybe he actually believed what he told her.”

“Either way, it’s an angle.” She opened the car door. When they were inside, she glanced at Roarke. “Could they both be dim enough to believe nobody suspected, got the sex vibe? Nothing? Two or three times a week for months, and the occasional booster backstage. Backstage, as we’ve seen, that’s swarming with people.”

“Someone found them out, as you put it,” Roarke said as he drove them home, “and killed Jenkins because of it?”

“It’s an angle. What would have happened to the church—its rep, its mission, its coffers—if this
understanding
got out, was made public.”

“Sex has toppled countries, and buried leaders. I imagine it would have done considerable damage.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking more, lots more than the death of the founder and figurehead. The murder of that figurehead by what could be taken as a killer targeting men of God. You could get play out of that, if you spin it right. You could take a few hits, but more, you could drum up more business. The outraged, the sympathetic. You could hold the line until a new figurehead stepped in.”

Oh yeah, she thought. It played. It played a marching tune. “Meanwhile, you’ve got the widow, the family, grieving and steadfast. You’ll have media coverage out your ass, that will charge right through the memorial. Hell, if you know what you’re doing, you can make this a big plus.”

“Who knows what they’re doing?”

“Oh. It’s his manager. Billy Crocker.”

Roarke let out a quick laugh. “And you know this from one interview with him—I assume—and a few hours on the investigation.”

She rolled her shoulders, rubbed her eyes. “I should’ve said I like the manager for it. I’m tired, starting to feel punchy. I like the manager for it if it’s a separate killing. If I’m wrong and it’s connected to Flores/ Lino, I’m fucked if I know.”

She yawned, hugely. “Not enough coffee,” she muttered. “I think I need a couple hours down, let my brain play with it while I’m out.” She checked the time, cursed. “Okay two hours max, since I’ve got to get my report in order before Peabody comes on. And I need time to do a couple runs, and plug in your financials summary. If I do a probability, even with Ulla’s statement, it’s going to slap me back. I need some more.”

Roarke drove through the gates. “I take it you and I won’t be creating light together this morning?”

She gave a sleepy laugh. “Pal, I’m looking for the dark.”

“Fair enough. Two hours down and an energy shake in the morning.”

“They’re revolting.”

“We have a new flavor. Peachy Keen.”

“Revolting and silly. Yum.”

But since that was two hours away, she wasn’t going to worry about it. She concentrated on getting upstairs, stripping down, and falling into the bed where Galahad already curled, looking annoyed at the interruption.

By the time the cat relocated to her feet, and she’d snugged herself against Roarke, she was out.

And out, she walked onto the stage in the great arena of
Madison
Square
Garden
. The altar stood under a white wash of light. Both Lino, in his priest robes, and Jenkins, in his white suit, stood behind it.

The black and the white, under the brilliance of light.

“We’re all sinners here,” Jenkins said, beaming at her. “Just takes the price of a ticket. SRO, and every one a sinner.”

“Sins aren’t my jurisdiction,” Eve told him. “Crimes are. Murder is my religion.”

“You got an early start.” Lino picked up a silver chalice, toasted her, drank. “Why is it the blood of Christ has to be transfigured out of cheap wine. Want a shot?” he asked Jenkins.

“Got my own,
padre.
” Jenkins lifted his water bottle. “Every man to his own poison. Brothers and sisters!” He raised his voice, spread his arms. “Let us pray for this fellow sinner, that she will find her path, find the light. That she repents!”