Ritual in Death (4 page)

He lay across the bed, tangled in the bloody sheets. She swept the room and the adjoining bath, though instinct told her Brian Trosky hadn’t been attacked, that the hammer that had caved his skull—to stop the pain?—had been wielded by his own hand.

Six

Same side, Roarke thought as he walked into Spirit Quest, different angles. Eve would always search for the logical, the rational. He was a bit more flexible. And so he’d come to talk to the witch.

The shop was pretty, even festive in its way with its crystals and stones, its bells and candles, its colorful bowls and thriving herbs. Its scent was spring meadow, he thought, with a hint of moonlight.

In the small space with the murmur of harps and flutes as background, people browsed. He watched a woman in a flowing white dress carry a ball of smoky crystal to the counter where the young, fresh-faced clerk instructed her solemnly on how to charge the ball by moonlight, how to cleanse it.

When the purchase had been made, wrapped and bagged, Roarke took a step toward the counter. He needn’t have bothered, as she stepped out of the back room with an awareness in her dark eyes that told him she’d sensed him—or in the more pedestrian method, had seen him on a security screen.

“Welcome back.”

“Isis.” He took the hand she offered, held it—and yes, felt that frisson of something. Some connection.

“You’re not here to shop,” she said in her warm, throaty voice, “which is too bad considering the depths of your pockets. Come upstairs, we’ll be comfortable and you can tell me what you need to know.”

She led the way, through the back, up the stairs. She moved gracefully, athletically, an Amazon goddess of considerable height and generous curves. Her flaming hair fell in mad curls nearly to the waist of the snug white top she wore, just teasing the back of the first of the many layers of her skirt, a rainbow of hues. She turned at the door, smiled at him out of those onyx eyes. Her face was bold, broad featured with skin of a dull, dreamy gold.

“Once, in another life, we sought comfort together for more than talk.” Her smile faded. “But now it’s death, again it’s death that brings you here. And weighs on you. I’m sorry.”

She stepped into the living area of an apartment as exotic and appealing as her shop. “Your Eve is well?”

“Yes. Chas?”

She let out a laugh. “Snuck down to the deli for coffee,” she said, referring to her lover. “We pretend he’s having a walk. But you can’t live with and love another and not know at least some of their secrets.”

He stared into her dark eyes, so compelling—so eerily familiar. “Did I know yours, once upon a time?”

She gestured to a chair, took her own. “We knew each other, and loved very well. But I was not your love, your only. You found her then, as you’ve found her again. And always will. You knew when you first saw her. At the first scent, the first touch.”

“I did. It was . . .” He smiled a little, remembering his first contact with Eve. “Annoying.”

“Does she know you’ve come?”

“No. We don’t always follow the same lines, even though we usually end in the same place. I don’t know if you can help, or if I have a right to bring death to your door.”

“Not ordinary death.” Isis took a long, slow breath. “Has someone used the arts to cause harm?”

“I don’t know. They have, at least, used the illusion of them to kill an innocent woman. You haven’t heard of this?”

“We’ve only just opened this morning, and I don’t listen to the media reports.” Rings glittered and gleamed on her fingers as she laid her hands on the arms of her chair, settled back. “What would I have heard?”

He told her then, watched her lovely skin pale, her eyes go darker yet. “Do you know of them? The Asant Group?”

“No, and I would have.” Her fingers stroked the smooth blue stone of the pendant she wore, as if for comfort. “I hear both the dark and the light. Suite 606. Or 666 with such little change. You didn’t know this girl?”

“No.”

“You brought nothing of hers, nothing she owned, wore, touched?”

“I’m sorry, no.”

Still pale, Isis nodded. “Then to help you, you need to take me there. To where they sacrificed her.”

Eve shot over to the West Side Clinic. “They had to troll for the victim here. Scoop up the new doctor, connect with Mika. Somebody on staff, a patient, one of the goddamn cleaning crew.”

“Do you really think Pike or Mika might try to kill themselves like Trosky?”

“Mira’s notified. It won’t happen. It’s not even noon,” Eve replied.

“Sure could use lunch though.”

“Maybe he did slip out on them, or came to sooner than they figured. Walked into the party. Impromptu party, Maxia just planned it the day before. Couldn’t know he’d walk right in to another penthouse. Couldn’t know a cop and the owner of the hotel would be right there, that we’d find the body minutes later.”

“Without the party he might’ve wandered around the floor for hours, or . . . gotten down to a lower floor, even the lobby,” Peabody agreed. “Nobody would’ve zeroed right in on 606.”

“What you’d get is a lot of civilian screaming, running, security taking him down. Cops get called in. At some point, they’re going to check the discs, but they don’t know the exact time frame, so it’d take a while, and a while longer to pinpoint 606 and find her. If three of the key players kill themselves before we interview them thoroughly, before they’re examined by a professional, what’ve we got?”

“What looks like the new guy in town luring a pretty girl to her death, and being in league with the other two, being part of a cult.”

“Yeah, you could waste some time on that. They may not be ready for us.” Eve swung toward the curb, coldly double-parking. “Not quite ready.” She flipped on her On Duty sign, stepped out, and walked to the clinic.

Babies cried. Why, she wondered, did they always sound like invading aliens? People sat with the dead-eyed stare of the ill or the terminally bored. Eve crossed over to the check-in desk where a brunette looked at her with tear-ravaged eyes.

“I’m sorry, we’re not taking walk-ins today. I can refer you to—” She broke off when Eve laid her badge on the counter. “Oh. Oh. Ava.” Tears popped out, fat and fast. “It’s about Ava.”

“Who’s in charge here?”

“I—I—Ava really managed the clinic. She really handled everything. I don’t understand how—”

“Sarah.” Another woman in a smart suit stepped up, touched the receptionist’s shoulder. “Go on into the break-room for a little while. It’s all right.”

“I’m sorry, Leah. I just can’t stand it.” She rose, fled.

“I’m Leah Burke.” The older brunette held out a hand, gave Eve’s a firm shake. “One of the nurse practitioners. We only heard about Ava a couple of hours ago. We’re all just . . . Well, we’re reeling. Please, come back. I need to find someone to cover the desk. We can use Dr. Slone’s office, he’s with a patient. Left, then right, then the third door on the right. I’ll be right with you.”

Eve tried to ignore the images of what might be going on behind the closed doors of examination rooms. She hated clinics, hospitals, doctors, MTs. If they were medicals, she wanted them to keep their damn distance.

Slone’s office was polished and prim. Diplomas in black frames made the walls important, while a photo of a hot blonde on the desk added that personal touch. Sturdy, straight-back chairs ranged in back and in front of the wide desk.

“Run her,” Eve told Peabody.

“Already am. Forty-eight years old, divorced. One child, female, deceased. Aw, jeez, hit while crossing the street. Drunk driver. Graduated Columbia Medical School. Put in ten years at the free clinic in Alphabet City, took five years as professional mother, did another two in Alphabet City, unemployed for a year after her kid died, then came here. Six years in. No criminal. She—”

At Eve’s signal, Peabody lowered her PPC. A moment later Leah hurried in. “I’m very sorry. We’re all turned around and upset today. We’re scrambling to reschedule appointments, and deal with patients when we can’t. Do you want Ava’s medical and employment records? Dr. Collins authorized us to turn them over to the police if you came for them.”

“Yeah, we’ll take them. And Dr. Pike’s.”

“Jack?” She seemed to sink. “We were afraid . . . We haven’t been able to reach him, and he didn’t come in for his shift. They were together last night. Their first date.”

“Is that so?”

“Ava was so nervous, and Jack was so sweet. I can’t believe they’re dead.”

“She is; he isn’t. Where were they going?”

“What? He’s all right?” Her eyes widened, went shiny with tears. “Jack’s all right?”

“He’ll do. Do you know where they were going?”

“Ah, just something casual. Dinner and vid, maybe a club. What happened? Can you tell us what happened? The reports don’t make any sense, and when we call for information, we can’t get any. We’re all—”

She stepped aside as the door opened. He was an imposing man, maybe six-two, lean as a whip with a sharply chiseled face. His eyes were green with a touch of gold, his hair a deep bronze.

“Dr. Slone, this is . . . I’m sorry, I’m so turned around. I didn’t get the names. The police.”

“Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody.”

“Yes, of course. Leah, see to Sarah, will you? She should go home.” He went to his desk, sat behind it. “What happened to Ava?”

“She was murdered.”

“Mutilated, the reports say. The word was ‘mutilated.’ ”

“That would be accurate.”

He breathed slowly in, slowly out. “In a hotel room. I find it hard to believe Ava would go to a hotel room with Jack on a first date. With anyone for that matter.”

“She was a young healthy woman. Young healthy women often go to hotel rooms on a date.”

“She was shy, and what I’m sure you’d think of as old fashioned.” The flare of anger brought out the gold in his eyes. “She must have been forced to go there, and Jack would never force her, or anyone. Where is Dr. Pike?”

“He’s in custody.”

Now Slone rose from his seat. “You’ve arrested him? For this?”

“I said he was in custody, not that he was under arrest.”

Disdain tightened his face as he stared holes through Eve. “Does he have a lawyer?”

“He hasn’t requested one.”

“I won’t have that boy accused of this. I brought him here. Do you understand? I brought him here.”

“You recruited him,” Eve said, thinking of Roarke’s earlier statement.

“He’s a fine doctor, a fine young man. A healer, not a killer. I’ll personally arrange for his counsel.”

“That’s your choice. Where were you last night, Dr. Slone?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Eve often wondered why people used that phrase when they really meant “fuck you.”

“It’s routine. What time did you leave the clinic?”

“I left about four, and walked home. I believe I arrived close to five.”

“Can anyone verify that? Your wife, your staff?”

“It was our housekeeper’s day off,” he said stiffly. “My wife was out. She got home shortly after seven. I resent the implications of this.”

“I’m going to implicate the same to the rest of the staff and employees of the clinic. I can use your office, or conduct the implications downtown.”

“We’ll see what my lawyer has to say about that.”

Before he could reach for his ’link, Eve snatched Peabody’s bag, and pulled out the still of Ava at the crime scene.

“Take a look, take a good one.” Eve slapped the photo on his desk. “Then curl your lip at my implications and call your damn lawyer.”

He didn’t pale; he didn’t tremble. But he looked for a very long time. And when he raised his head his eyes were hard, and they were cold. “She was hardly more than a child. Use the office. I’ll notify the others. They’ll have to speak with you between patients.”

He strode out, shut the door behind him.

“He’s got a mean bedside manner,” Eve commented.

“So do you, sir.”

With a shrug, Eve dipped her hands into her pockets. “Run him. Run them all.”

Seven

While Isis gathered what she needed, Roarke took out his ’link to contact Eve. He struggled against the resentment that burned through him at the idea he felt obligated to get clearance from his wife to enter his own property. And, he realized, resented the struggle against the resentment.

Bloody cops, he thought, and their bloody procedure. And then, bloody hell when he was dumped straight to her voice mail.

“Well then, if you can’t be bothered to answer your ’link, I’ll tell you that I’ve my own expert. I want her to have a pass at the crime scene, so I’ll be taking her there shortly. Any problem with that, well, you’ll have to get back to me, won’t you? And we’ll see if I can be bothered answering my ’link.”

When he clicked off he saw Isis watching him with amusement dancing in her eyes. “Two strong-headed, strong-willed people, both not only used to giving orders but to having them obeyed. It must be an interesting and stimulating life you have together.”

“There are times I wonder how we ever managed to get through two hours together much less two years. And other times I wonder how either of us survived before we found each other.”

“She’ll be angry with you for taking me to this place.”

“No, what she’ll be is right pissed. But they used my place, you see, and at least one of my people. So pissed she’ll have to be. I’m grateful to you for doing this.”

“Gifts aren’t free. What I have, what I am makes its own demands. Will you take this?” She held out a small white silk bag tied with a silver cord.

“What is it?”

“A protection charm. I’d like you to carry it when we go in that room together.”

“All right.” He slipped it in his pocket, felt it bump lightly against the gray button he habitually carried there. Eve’s button, he mused, and wasn’t that a kind of charm? “I’ve been in before.”

“Yes. And what did you feel?”

“Beyond the anger, the pity? I suppose if I were a fanciful man I’d say I caught the scent of hell. It’s not sulphur and brimstone. It’s the stench of cruelty.”

Isis took a long breath. “Then we’ll go. And we’ll look.”

In Slone’s office, Eve glanced at the readout on her ’link, and let the transmission go to voice mail. Roarke would have to wait, she decided, and turned back to Sarah Meeks. The receptionist had a soother in her now, but tears still trembled.

“Where were Ava and Jack going?”

“They weren’t sure. They both wanted to keep it light, you know? First date, and you work in the same place, so if it doesn’t work out . . .”

“Did they leave together, from here?”

“No—I mean, I don’t think so. She was—they were—still here when I left. But I know she planned to go home first. Even though it was casual, Ava wanted to fuss a little, so she was going home to change.”

“What time did you leave?”

“About three. I came on at seven yesterday, and left around three.”

“Who else was here when you left?”

“Oh, let’s see. Dr. Slone, and Dr. Collins, and Dr. Pratt. Um, Leah, Kiki, Roger, one of our physician assistants, and . . .”

Eve took notes as Sarah listed names.

“Was Ava seeing anyone else?”

“No. I mean, she dated sometimes, but not a lot, and nothing serious. There was just this spark, you know, between her and Jack. We all thought they might . . .”

“Did she have any interest in the occult?”

“The what? You mean, like ghosts or something?”

“Or something.”

“I don’t think so. Ava was . . .” She trailed off again, as if trying to find the word. “Grounded. That’s it. She was just really real. She loved her job here, and was so good at it. Good with the staff, the patients. She remembered people’s names, and what they came in for, and what everybody liked in their coffee.”

“Was there anyone who showed a particular interest in her—other than Jack?”

“Everyone did. She was like that. Everybody loved Ava.”

Eve sent Sarah out, sniffling. “Anything pop on those runs?” she askedPeabody .

“Nothing that sings. You’ve got a lot of highly educated people on staff. Slone’s married, two kids, no criminal. Wife’s an interior designer. Homes in the city, in theHamptons , and inColorado . Collins, Dr. Lawrence, second marriage, two offspring from each, no criminal. Current wife is professional mother. Upper West Side digs here, and a home inCosta Rica . Pratt—”

“Copy the data to my pocket unit.” Eve paced the office. “This is going to take a while. We need to split up. Go over and check Ava’s apartment. Have EDD pick up her electronics. I’ll meet you back at Central when we’re done here.”

“Okay. You know,Dallas , we’re both going to need sleep at some point.”

“We’ll get to that. Tell them to get someone else in here.”

At least one of the killers was here, Eve thought. She was sure of it. The vic hadn’t been in the city two full years, and from what Eve had learned, most of her time and energy and interest funnelled into her work. These were her contacts, her people.

Pike, brand-spanking-new.

It was possible they’d run afoul of someone at Ava’s apartment—andPeabody would ferret that out, if so. But logic said both Ava and Jack had known at least one of her killers well enough to trust.

And what easier place was there to drug someone than in a health center? The place was full of drugs—and people who, in Eve’s opinion, just loved sticking them into other people. Subdue them here, she speculated, give them enough happy juice to make them compliant and transport them to the hotel, where one or more partners has already dealt with Mika and Trosky.

Get them upstairs, she imagined, and let the party begin. Had to be early. The whole thing had been done by twenty-three hundred, latest. It took time to eat, drink, orgy, and perform a human sacrifice.

She glanced up as the door opened. The man who hurried in was about five-ten and carrying a good five excess pounds in the belly. His round face held a pleasant if harried smile. Eyes of faded green radiated both fatigue and kindness. He scooped his hand through his short tangle of brown hair.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. We’re . . . well, we’re short-staffed today, as you know. We didn’t have enough time to notify all the staff, the patients, and close today.” He sat, wearily. “I think we’re all running on sheer nerves. Sorry, I’m Dr. Collins, Larry Collins.”

“Lieutenant Dallas. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It’s incomprehensible. At least a half dozen times today I’ve started to ask Ava for something. In the six months or so since she’s been here, she’s become the hub of the practice.”

“You’re aware she was planning to see Dr. Pike last night, socially.”

“Yes. We were all invested, a bunch of matchmakers.” His lips compressed on the term. “And now . . . Jack couldn’t have hurt her, Lieutenant. It’s just not possible.”

“What time did she leave yesterday?”

“Ah, let me think. I believe she was still here when I left, and that would have been close to five. Yes, yes, because I said good night to her and—” He broke off, looked away, struggled for composure. “—and good luck.”

“Where did you go?”

“I went home, and had a drink.” He smiled a little. “My last patient of the day was a very, let’s say, active and opinionated five-year-old.”

“You’re a pediatrician?”

“That’s right.”

Eve nodded, watching him. “I have to ask, it’s routine. Is there anyone who can verify your whereabouts from five P.M. to midnight?”

“My wife. She fixed me the drink, bless her. We had a quiet evening at home as the kids were spending the night with friends.”

“All right. Who was here when you left, other than Ava?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” He furrowed his brow in thought. “I think Rodney, one of our nurses, and Kiki, a lab tech. I know the waiting room was clear, because I commented on it to Ava. We try to close at five, but realistically it’s nearer to six most days.”

“Dr. Pike? Was he still here?”

“I didn’t see him. Of course, he may have been with a patient.”

“Thanks for your time. I may have some followups later, but for now, that’s it. Would you send either Kiki or Rodney in?”

“I think Rodney’s on his lunch break, but I’ll see that Kiki’s told you’re waiting.” He rose, walked to the desk where she sat, offered a hand. “Thank you, Lieutenant, for all you’re doing.”

She got to her feet first so their eyes would be level. She thought of when she might grab a meal, and took his hand. “It’s my job.”

“All the same.” He held her hand, her eyes a moment longer, then released it. “Thank you.”

She waited until he’d left the room before she spoke for her recorder. “Note, Dr. Lawrence Collins is a sensitive. And one who doesn’t mind poking into another’s mind without permission.”

Hope he enjoyed her thoughts of pepperoni pizza, Eve mused. Then checking the time, pulled out her ’link to check her messages.

She was snarling and steaming before Roarke’s message played out. “Son of a bitch!” She tagged him back. “You’d better answer, goddamn it, you’d just better—Stay out of my crime scene,” she snapped out when his face came on screen.

“That crime scene is a suite in my hotel.”

“Look, pal—”

“You look for a change. One of my people is in custody. Another, I’ve just been informed, is dead by his own hand. I won’t sit and do nothing.”

“I’m getting somewhere here, and I’ll be in contact with Mira within the hour. She’ll have finished the initial exams, and if she gets the results I think I may have enough for a search warrant.”

“That’s all very well, and good for you. Meanwhile, I’ve my own line to tug, and at the end of it, you may have enough for arrest warrants.”

“You can’t just walk into a crime scene and take someone with you. Who the hell is with you?”

“Isis.”

There was a long, stunned silence. “You’re taking a witch into my crime scene? What the hell’s wrong with you? If the two of you compromise—”

“Your sweepers and techs have been through, the scene’s been recorded and photographed, evidence removed and logged. You’ve been over that suite top to bottom yourself. Added to that, goddamn right back at you, I didn’t come down in the last shower of rain. I know what’s to be done to protect the bleeding scene.”

“You both need a nap,” Eve heard Isis say, very pleasantly.

“Listen. I’m on the Upper West Side, finishing up interviews with the staff at the health center. I’ll be done in about thirty minutes, and can be at the hotel in forty. Wait. Just wait until I get there.”

There was another silence, then she saw him nod. “Forty minutes,” he said and clicked off.

Eve hissed out a breath, kicked Slone’s desk. She might have kicked it a second time, but the door opened.

The woman who came in reeked of Neo-Goth. The black hair, red lips, and the silver hoop through her pierced left brow projected a kind of careless defiance that merged with the tattoo that peeked out from the slope of her breast.

Eve might have considered it all a matter of personal style, along with the snug black top and pants, the chunky black boots, but for the smug gleam in the black-lined eyes.

Weak link, Eve thought, and smiled. “Hello, Kiki.”

“I’m swamped.” She dumped herself in a chair. “So let’s cut to it. I left about five—Ava, the pure and wholesome—was still here, all shiny-eyed about her date with Dr. Dull. I lit out, met up with some friends downtown. We hit some clubs, got trashed, hung out, and I got home about two. Is that it?”

“Not quite. I’ll need the names and contact information for your friends.”

Kiki shrugged, rattled off names and ’link numbers.

“You didn’t like Ava?”

“Wasn’t my type, that’s all. Too bad she’s dead and all that. Saint Jack probably freaked when she wouldn’t put out, and did her.” Now those eyes glittered. “But since I wasn’t there, I don’t know. Ava and I weren’t buds, so I got no clue what she was into. You need more, you’ll have to catch me later. I’m backed up.”

“Thanks for your time.”

“Whatev.”

Eve waited a few seconds, then walked to the door, stepped out. She saw Kiki at the end of the corridor in an intense conversation with Leah Burke. The moment Leah spotted Eve coming toward them, she squeezed a hand on Kiki’s arm to silence her, and started forward. “Lieutenant, can I help you?”

“I’d like to speak to Rodney.”

“He’s not back from his break.” She checked her wrist unit. “He should be only a few more minutes. He’s very prompt.”

“Okay, I’ll take Dr. Pratt.”

“He’s still with a patient. I can’t—”

“I’ll keep it short. I’m sure we’ll all be happy when this is done. Before you interrupt him, what time did you leave last night?”

“Me? Ah, just after five.”

“Was Ava still here?”

“No, she’d just left. I, ah, scooted her along, actually, so she could get ready for her date. I closed up last night.”

“You were the last to leave?”

“That’s right.”

“And where did you go?”

“I went home. I, ah, walked home, changed, had some dinner.”

“You didn’t go out again?”

“No.”

“Make or receive any calls, have any visitors?”

“No, it was a quiet night. Lieutenant, I have patients myself.”

“Okay. I’ve only got a couple more staff members, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Eve stepped back into Slone’s office. Collins, Burke, and Kiki, she thought, were top of her suspect list. She scanned Silas Pratt’s data, but he didn’t keep her waiting long.

He strode in, a sharply handsome man with an air of confidence. His eyes were a laser blast of blue, and she could admit they gave her a jolt. When he offered his hand she allowed herself to think just that: Here’s a great-looking man with killer eyes.

He smiled at her. “Lieutenant, I’m Silas Pratt.”

Her heart pumped a little harder as he squeezed her hand. She felt the probe of his gaze, and yes, of his power, like heat along her brain. “Have a seat, Dr. Pratt,” she said and removed her hand from his.

“Can you tell me if you have any leads? Other than Jack. No one who knows him will believe Jack did this to our Ava.”

“You’ve only known him a couple of weeks.”