Against a Brightening Sky (27 page)

“I must admit I've never been acquainted with a spiritualist before. This is all new territory for me and I'm looking forward to seeing how you work.” Lieutenant Lynch stepped back and waved Dora toward the sidewalk. “After you, Miss Bobet.”

Gabe gave the order for his men to stay where they were and led us down the drive on one side of the church. A coroner's van and a cluster of patrol cars sat on a patch of lawn in front of the rectory. We must have looked an odd procession to the young priest watching from an upper window.

“Gabe—”

“I see him, Dee. Pretend he's not there.” He took the basket from me, using the opportunity to get a good look at the window without appearing to stare. “I'm willing to wager that Father Sakovich wasn't involved in the murder, but he was with the cleaning lady who found the body. Right now he's in shock.”

“Unless I miss my guess, he's under pressure from the older priest too.” Lynch tugged a rumpled handkerchief from an inside pocket and mopped his face. “That smell's getting worse, Gabe. I shouldn't be able to smell anything, let alone all the way out here.”

“Smell?” Dora looked between Gabe and the lieutenant. “What in the world are you talking about? I can't smell anything.”

“You should be glad of that.” Randy slipped an arm around her waist, prepared to keep her on her feet if need be. “We've fished bodies out of the Bay that don't smell this bad.”

Dora's eyes narrowed, confirming my first instinct. The necromancer was undoubtedly involved in Eve Rigaux's death. “Really … how long ago did they find the body?”

“Not more than three, four hours ago.” Randy looked between me and Isadora. “What are the two of you thinking?”

Gabe's squad had seen enough strange things in the last four years that they took anything Dora or I said in stride. Even those who couldn't bring themselves to fully believe in ghosts or other creatures from the spirit realm kept an open mind. And they'd seen what helping Gabe with his cases did to Dora far too often to think it anything but real. Most of the squad members were very protective of her as a result.

A stranger's reaction was always in question. I cleared my throat, keenly aware of Lieutenant Lynch watching. “The moment of death generates a kind of … of spiritual energy. Some texts say this energy is evidence of the soul leaving the body, or some kind of life force released back into the world. Whether it's the soul or something else, when that energy is drained away purposely, the body decays faster. Ghosts are formed out of the same energy.”

“Ghosts?” Lieutenant Lynch frowned. “I haven't heard anyone talk about ghosts and spirits in a very long time, not since my grandma passed on. Grandma used to hang old bottles in all the trees around her house. She said they were ghost traps and that if she ever caught me throwing rocks at them, I'd be pulling weeds every day for the next month.”

Dora's smile was arch and knowing. “Did she ever catch you, Lieutenant?”

“No, ma'am, she never caught me.” He scratched the side of his neck and limped toward the open back door. “I could never hit one either. They kept moving out of the way.”

The room we entered was cluttered, full of pasteboard boxes, wooden folding chairs, and an old piano that had seen better days. A door into the sanctuary stood partly open, giving me a glimpse of dark oak pews and one of the stained glass windows I'd seen from the outside. I didn't see the body until we'd come around the piano.

Randy's telephone call had warned Dora and me that the murder was recently done, the body posed in strange ways that made him and Gabe uneasy. We'd prepared as well as we could on short notice and set off for the church. I'd known that whatever we found would be bad, but warnings and preparations paled in the face of reality.

In all the cases I'd worked on with Jack and Gabe and Dora, I'd never seen a body lying cold and still on the floor. This wasn't a shadow of someone's past or a spirit remembering a day lived long ago. I held tight to Gabe's arm, staring and trying not to think of how recently Eve Rigaux's life had been ripped away.

Gabe spoke quietly in my ear, no doubt thinking only I could hear. “Are you all right?”

Dora rolled her eyes, making no attempt to hide her exasperation. “Shame on you for asking such a silly question. No, Gabe, she's not all right. You know perfectly well that a fresh corpse isn't near the same thing as a ghost. Give Dee a moment to find her feet. This is all new to her.”

Lieutenant Lynch turned to her, his tone stern and almost scolding. “And this isn't new to you, Miss Bobet?”

She smiled her sweetest smile, a sure sign that Dora was annoyed. “This is far from new for me, Lieutenant. The first murder case I assisted with was more than fifteen years ago, and frankly, I find that smug tone annoying. Feeling how someone died isn't at all pleasant, it's extremely painful. And yet I'm still here, all because Gabe needs my help. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

He looked past Dora, studying Eve Rigaux's body. Lieutenant Lynch cleared his throat and looked Isadora in the eye. “My apologies, Miss Bobet. My wife always said I turned into a pompous ass when I wasn't sure of my ground. Chances are I'm worse since she passed away. I can't say I've ever been less sure of what's going on than I am right now. That's no excuse for being rude.”

“Apology accepted. You're not the only one here who's unsure.” Dora let go of Randy, testing her balance before stepping away. “Dee, bring the salt. We'll contain the smell first and then we can try to discover what surprises the killer left for us.”

Dora walked a circle around the body, one arm outstretched toward Eve's remains and reciting charms in a soft voice. I followed behind, pouring salt onto the floor. If I concentrated on staying precisely three steps behind Isadora and not treading on her heels, or on not letting the salt line waver or drift away from Dora's path, it was easier to forget a corpse lay inches away.

Twice we went around, leaving white crystals gleaming on the oak floor. At the end of the second circuit, Dora brought her hands together over the thick line of salt, sealing the circle.

Wind rushed past me and sped toward the open back door, rattling lids on pasteboard boxes and blowing sheet music off the piano and onto the floor. Lieutenant Lynch's hat blew away, sending Randy scrambling across the room to retrieve it for him. The gale ended quickly, leaving an eerily calm behind.

Lieutenant Lynch took his hat from Randy with a nod of thanks, his expression a mixture of surprise and speculation. Dora looked tired, but also vaguely smug. The thought was uncharitable of me, but I suspected she'd called the wind to impress on the lieutenant that she wasn't playing games.

Gabe sighed, and the green cast left his face. Dora's smile held only the tiniest bit of teasing. “Better, Gabe?”

“Much. Thank you, Dora.” He moved closer, careful not to disturb the salt. “Was that what you thought?”

“Advanced decay? No.” She paced next to Eve's body, hands clutched into fists and frowning. “This was the equivalent of a parlor trick, one targeted specifically at you and your men. My best guess is the killer wanted all of you sick and unable to function. Fear was a small part of it as well, but frightening a cop is extremely difficult. He misjudged that badly.”

“What aren't you saying, Dora?” Randy knew her as well as I did. He stepped in front of her, forcing her to be still and face him. “Tell me what else is wrong.”

She smiled affectionately and patted his cheek. “Dearest Randy, you have so much faith that all the answers are tucked up my sleeve. In this case, I have to disappoint you.
Something
is wrong; I just can't say
what
. Why he went to the trouble to set all this up is very puzzling. Any power he might have gathered from Eve's death would be wasted keeping that illusion of rot and decay going. That makes very little sense.”

“But it makes perfect sense if he's not interested in accumulating power.” The words were spoken before I thought. I hugged the nearly empty bag of salt, forcing myself to look, really look, at Eve Rigaux. “Making people see what he wants them to see, or making them feel a particular way, is more important. Some of your books have sketches of martyrs and saints that were crucified. When I look at Mrs. Rigaux, that's what I see, Dora. That's what he wants us all to see. The only thing that's missing is a cross.”

“Or a stake for burning.” She stood next to Randy, lips pressed tight together. “I can see what you're saying, Dee, but the coins don't fit. A coin placed on the eyes of the dead is an old tradition that dates from long before the Romans. The coins were meant to pay the ferryman who carried you across the river to the land of the dead. I've never seen them associated with martyrs before.”

“Maybe that's not what they mean, Miss Bobet. From what Gabe said, Mrs. Rigaux was rich.” Lieutenant Lynch's cane thumped hollowly on the floor as he moved to stand near Eve's head. He watched where he set his feet, just as careful as the rest of us not to break the circle of salt. “The locket we found in her hand was worth a fortune. My guess is the killer wanted us to know that money couldn't save her.”

Dora groped for Randy's arm, staring at Eve Rigaux's hands and swaying on her feet. “Dear Lord, the coroner did that to her fingers, not the killer. No wonder the feel of violence is so strong.”

Gabe shoved his hands deep into his trouser pockets, visibly uncomfortable. “We didn't have a choice. Rigor had set in and we couldn't get her hands open.” He pointed at a pair of tongs lying next to the body. A thin metal tube coated in what must be dried blood was locked into the jaws. “That was in one hand, the locket in the other. Jordan—Lieutenant Lynch—says that's part of a cobbler's awl. I'm positive the murderer used that to kill her and broke the handle off later.”

Suddenly the halo of congealed blood under her head made all too much sense. Now I wanted to be sick, but I couldn't be any less brave than Dora. “Who has the locket now? We need to see it.”

“It's on top of the piano.” He shrugged, sheepish and slightly embarrassed. “I had the locket in my pocket for a while, but that didn't feel safe once we all started feeling ill. I didn't want to risk anyone else handling it until you and Dora had a chance to look it over.”

“You did exactly the right thing, Gabe.” Dora was exceedingly pale and leaned heavily on Randy, but in this case, her prior experience with crime scenes did carry the day. She plowed through the pain and discomfort, doing what needed to be done. “Making you nauseated was a minor annoyance, but this man could have planted something truly nasty on the jewelry. Gems can hold power and spells for a very long time. Randy, be a dear and bring the locket to me.”

Lieutenant Lynch was clearly puzzled as he watched Randy cross the room. “Excuse me for asking, Miss Bobet, but won't that be just as dangerous for Officer Dodd?”

“Call me Dora. All this formality is exhausting.” She never took her eyes off Randy, but there was no doubt her small smile was meant for the lieutenant. “I wouldn't risk Randy for anything in this world. The same goes for Gabe and Dee, and you, Lieutenant. Randy has a special sort of immunity to this kind of thing, or I wouldn't ask. There's nothing the killer could attach to the locket that has the power to hurt him.”

He studied her face, thoughtful and utterly serious. Trust was a fragile thing, constructed on a foundation that grew slowly over time. Time was one thing we didn't have, not if we were to find this killer and keep Alina safe. We were asking a great deal of Lieutenant Lynch, not the least of which was to accept that all the bizarre, outlandish things we told him were true.

“All right. I'll make the same agreement with you that I did with Gabe.” Jordan Lynch pulled himself up to his full height, both hands resting on the head of his cane. “I'll call you Dora if you'll call me Jordan, but only in private. People might misunderstand if we're too familiar in public where they can hear. I'd be pleased if you do the same, Mrs. Ryan.”

Dora's face fell, just for an instant, before she gave Jordan her brightest smile. She'd sensed what that admission had cost him. Having spent almost half my life with Annie, watching shopkeepers ignore her and speak to me instead, I knew the cost all too well. Jordan Lynch suffered blows to his pride and dignity every day.

Randy came back, a glassine envelope on his palm. Diamonds ringing the oval locket caught the overhead electric light, glittering with brilliant white sparks. The mother-of-pearl center shimmered with softer, multicolored rainbows. Jordan had been right; the locket was worth a large sum of money.

Dora passed her hand over the envelope on Randy's palm, careful not to touch it. She frowned and shut her eyes, concentrating while holding her hand perfectly still.

“Nothing. He didn't hide anything in the locket.” She pulled her hand back, wiping it up and down on the front of her coat. I took her hand before she rubbed the skin raw. “Faint echoes of her death and the terror of knowing this man was going to kill her, but nothing else. She wasn't wearing the locket when she died, or the residue would be much stronger.”

I squeezed her fingers. “Are you all right?”

How long Dora took to answer and how hard she trembled frightened me. “I will be. Give me a moment.”

Gabe glanced at Dora for permission before taking the locket from Randy. He shook it out of the envelope, fumbling for a few seconds before finding the clasp and popping it open. A tiny sprig of dried flowers fell to the floor, crumbling to dust when Randy tried to pick them up. Gabe stared at the inside, his face closed off, expressionless.

“Randy, get everyone back inside. Have them finish up so Dr. West can take the body to the morgue.” Gabe wrapped my hand around the open locket and kissed my cheek. “I need to call Jack and have him send a few telegrams. I'll be right back.”