Ceremony in Death (20 page)

“I stood back, separate, cynical, and secretly enraged. I hated them for their simplicity and their devotion. Hadn’t I seen that same captured look on the faces of those who’d gathered to hear my father speak? I wanted nothing to do with it, with them, but I was drawn back. Three times I went back and watched, and though I didn’t know it, I had begun to heal. And one night, on Alban Eilir, the Spring Equinox, Isis asked me into her home. When we were alone, she told me that she had recognized me. I panicked. I’d tried so hard to bury all of that, all of him. She said she hadn’t meant from this life, though I could see in her eyes that she knew. She knew who I was, what I’d come from. She told me I had a great capacity for healing, and I would discover it once I had healed myself. Then she seduced me.”

He gave a short laugh, and in it was great warmth. “Imagine my surprise when this beautiful woman led me to her bed. I went along like a puppy, half eager, half terrified. She was the first woman I’d had, and the only one I’ve been with. And on the night of the Spring Equinox, that hard, secret knot inside me began to dissolve.

“She loves me. And the miracle of that made me believe in other miracles. I became Wiccan, I embraced and was embraced by the craft. I learned to heal myself and others. The only person I’ve ever harmed in my life has been myself. But I understand better than Isis with all her insights, the lure of violence, of selfishness, of bowing to another master.”

She believed him, yet too much of his past mirrored her own for her to trust her instincts. “You’ve gone to a great deal of effort to hide your connection with your father.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Did Alice know?”

“Alice was innocence. She was youth. There were no David Baines Conroys in her life. Until Selina Cross.”

“And Cross is an intelligent and vindictive woman. If she’d discovered your secret, she might have used Alice, and others, to blackmail you. Would the members of your cult trust you if they knew your history?”

“Since that’s never been tested, I don’t have the answer. I’d prefer, certainly, to keep my privacy.”

“And on the night Alice was killed, you were here. Alone with Isis.”

“Yes, and we were here, alone, on the night Lobar was killed. You know I was on hand at the last murder, again with Isis. And yes.” He smiled slightly. “I have no doubt she would lie for me. But while she would live with a murderer’s son, she would never live with a murderer. It’s against everything she is.”

“She loves you.”

“Yes.”

“And you love her.”

“Yes.” He blinked, and horror filled his eyes. “You can’t believe she’d have a part in any of this, beyond the fact that she loved Alice, cared for her as a mother would a sick child. She’s incapable of hurting anyone.”

“Mr. Forte, everyone is capable.”

“You don’t think he’s involved,” Peabody said as they started down the outside stairs.

“There’s history of aberrant behavior in his family. He has an expert knowledge of chemicals, including hallucinogens and herbals. He has no alibi for any of the incidents. He was associated with Alice, closely enough that she may have stumbled across the secret he’s been hiding for years, and that exposed, could destroy his cult.”

She paused, tapping her fingers against the rail as she ticked off her mental list. “He has good reason to hate Selina Cross and her membership, to want to punish them as he couldn’t punish his father. He was on hand when Wineburg started to break, and could have easily circled around and killed him. That gives him motive and opportunity, and with his background, the potential for violent behavior.”

“He’s made himself a decent life after a nightmare childhood,” Peabody protested. “You can’t condemn him for what his father did.”

Eve stared out at the street and fought her own demons. “I’m not condemning him, Peabody, I’m investigating every possibility. Consider this.” She turned. “If Alice knew, and told Frank, his reaction might very well have been to demand she break off the connection. It’s likely, following this line of speculation, that he confronted Forte himself, even threatened him with exposure if he didn’t break off his influence. He was in Homicide when Conroy was taken in, and he’d have known and remembered every filthy detail.”

“Yes, but — “

“And Alice moved into her own place. She continued to work part time for Isis, but she no longer lived here. Why did she move out, away from here, when she was afraid?”

“I don’t know,” Peabody admitted.

“And we can’t ask her.” Eve turned back, started down the stairs again, then swore when she saw the boy leaning on her vehicle. “Well, hell.”

She strode down, straight over to Jamie. “Get your butt off my hood. This is an official vehicle.”

“An official piece of shit,” he corrected with a quick, sassy grin. “The city puts you cops into recycled garbage heaps. A high-profile detective like you ought to have better.”

“I’ll tell the chief you said so next time I’m in the Tower. What are you doing here?”

“Just hanging.” His grin flashed again. “And I ditched the shadow you put on me. He’s good.” Jamie tucked his thumbs in his pockets. “I’m better.”

“Why aren’t you in school?”

“Don’t bother to call the Truant Brigade, Lieutenant, it’s Saturday.”

How the hell was she supposed to keep track? “Then why aren’t you terrorizing one of the sky malls like a normal delinquent?”

His grin spread. “I hate sky malls. They’re so yesterday. Caught you on Channel 75.”

“Did you drop by for my autograph?”

“You scrawl it on a credit slip, I could outfit this heap of yours and make it rock.” He looked past her toward the shop. “I got a load of the witch through the glass. She’s doing some heavy retail today.”

Eve glanced back, noted the customers browsing inside. “You’ve seen her before.”

“Yeah, couple times when I tailed Alice.”

“Ever see anything interesting?”

“Nope. Everybody’s always wearing clothes in there.” He wiggled his brows. “A guy has to hope. I studied up on Wicca. They liked to be naked a lot. Did see the head witch kick a guy out of the shop once.”

“Really.” It was Eve’s turn to lean on the hood. “Why?”

“Couldn’t say, but she was maximum pissed. I could see they were having words, and I thought she was going to belt him. Especially when he shoved her.”

“He shoved her.”

“Yeah. I thought about going in then, though she was a hell of a lot bigger than he was. Still, guys got no business pushing women around. But whatever she said had him backing off. Backing way off until he was backing right out of the door. And he went off in a big hurry.”

“What did he look like?”

“Skinny dude, five ten, maybe a hundred and twenty-five. Couple years older than me. Long black hair, red tips. Long face, with his incisors fanged. Red eyes. Light complexion. Turned out in tight black leather, no shirt, couple of tattoos, but I was too far away to make them out.”

He shot her a smile, grim around the edges. “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Last time I saw him, he wasn’t looking so jazzy.”

Lobar, Eve thought, exchanging a glance with Peabody. The kid had given a solid and nearly professional description. “And when was this? When did you see the incident?”

“The day — ” His voice cracked a little, so he cleared his throat. “The day before Alice died.”

“And what did Isis do after Lobar?”

“She made a call. Couple minutes later the dude she lives with came on the run. They talked for a couple minutes, real intense, then she put up the Closed sign and they went into the back room. Ticked me off,” he added. “I could have followed the leather guy.”

“You want to stop tailing people, Jamie. They make you, they tend to get annoyed.”

“People I tail don’t make me. I’m too good.”

“You thought you were good at B and E too,” she reminded him dryly and watched as his color rose.

“That was different. Look, the guy that was stabbed, he was right there, at Alice’s viewing. It has to be connected, to her, to that Lobar creep, and I got a right to know.”

She straightened. “Are you requesting the status of my investigation?”

“Yeah, yeah, right.” He rolled his eyes skyward. “What’s the status of your investigation?”

“Ongoing,” she said shortly, then jerked a thumb. “Now, scram.”

“I got a right to know,” he insisted. “Survivors of victims, and all that.”

“You’re the grandson of a cop,” she reminded him. “You know I’m not going to tell you anything. And you’re a minor. I don’t have to tell you anything. Now, go play somewhere else, kid, before I have Peabody here roust you for loitering.”

The muscles of his jaw tightened and jumped. “I’m not a kid. And if you don’t deal with Alice’s killer, I will.”

Eve snagged his arm by the jacket before he could storm away. “Don’t cross the line,” she said very quietly. She kept her face close to his, forcing him to look directly into her eyes. “You want justice, you’ll get it. I’ll by God get it for you. You want revenge, I’ll slap you in a cage. You remember what Frank stood for, and what your sister was, and then you think it all through again. Now, get out of here.”

“I loved them.” He jerked his arm free, but not before she saw tears rush into his eyes. “Fuck your justice. And fuck you.”

She let him walk because, though the language had been an adult’s, the tears had been a child’s.

“The kid’s hurting,” Peabody murmured.

“I know.” So was she now. “Tail him, will you, just to be sure he doesn’t get in any trouble. Give it thirty minutes, until he calms down, then beep your location. I’ll pick you up.”

“You going to talk to Isis?”

“Yeah, let’s see what she and Lobar had to say to each other. Oh, and Peabody, watch your step. Jamie’s a clever kid. If he made one of Roarke’s men, he’s likely to make you.”

Peabody flashed a smile. “I think I can manage to tail a kid for a few blocks.”

Trusting her aide to keep Jamie out of trouble, Eve walked into Spirit Quest. The air swam with incense and the scented melted wax from dozens of candles. The October sun was strong and gleamed in shooting colors through hanging prisms.

The look Isis sent her held none of that exotic welcome.

“You’ve finished with Chas, Lieutenant?”

“For now. I’d like a few minutes.”

Isis turned to answer a question from a customer on a blend of herbs to enhance memory. “Steep it for five minutes,” Isis told her. “Then strain it. You’ll need to drink it daily for at least a week. If it doesn’t help, let me know.” She turned her head back to Eve. “As you can see, this is a bad time.”

“I’ll be quick. I’m just curious about the visit you had from Lobar here, a few days before he ended up with his throat slashed.”

She’d kept her voice down, but left her intention clear. They would talk, in private, or in public. The location was up to Isis.

“I don’t think I misjudged you,” Isis said quietly, “but you make me doubt myself.” She signaled to a young woman Eve recognized from the initiation rite. “Jane will handle the customers,” Isis said as she started toward the back room. “But I don’t want to leave her long. She’s very new at shop work.”

“Alice’s replacement.”

Isis’s eyes burned. “No one could replace Alice.”

She entered what appeared to be a combination of office and storeroom. On the reinforced plastic shelves were gargoyles, candles, sealed bins of dried herbs, clear stoppered bottles filled with liquids of varying hues.

On the small desk was a very modern and efficient computer and communication system. “Jazzy equipment,” Eve commented. “Very now.”

“We don’t eschew technology, Lieutenant. We adapt, and we use what is available to us. It’s always been so.” She gestured to a chair with a high, carved back, took another for herself, one with armrests shaped like wings. “You said you would be quick. But first I need to know if you intend to leave Chas in peace.”

“My priority is closing a case, not the peace of mind of a suspect.”

“How could you suspect him?” Her hands curled around the armrests as she leaned forward. “You, of all people, know what he’s overcome.”

“If his past is relevant — “

“Is yours?” Isis demanded. “Is the fact that you survived a nightmare to your credit or to your detriment?”

“My past is my business,” Eve said evenly, “and you know nothing about it.”

“What comes to me, comes in flashes and impressions. Stronger in some cases than others. I know you suffered and were innocent. Just as Chas is. I know you carry scars and harbor doubts. As he does. I know you struggle to make your own peace. And I see a room.”

Her voice changed, deepened, just as her eyes did. “A small, cold room washed with dirty red light. And a child, battered and bleeding, huddled in a corner. The pain is unspeakable, beyond endurance. And I see a man. He’s covered with blood. His face is — “

“Stop it.” Eve’s heart was hammering, choking off her air. For a moment, she’d been back there, back in that child who’d crawled whimpering like an animal into the corner with blood staining her hands. “Damn you.”

“I’m sorry.” Isis lifted a hand to press it to her own heart, and it trembled. “I’m so very sorry. That’s not my way. I let anger take over.” She shut her eyes tight. “I’m so very sorry.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Eve lurched out of the chair. There was no room to pace, to prowl, to steam off the dregs of memory. “I’m aware,” she began coldly, “that you have what is commonly called heightened psychic skill. HPS is still being studied. I have a report on my desk right now. So you’ve got a talent, Isis. Congratulations. Now, stay the hell out of my head.”

“I will.” Pity swam in her eyes and couldn’t be blinked away. She’d seen much more than she’d expected or intended. “I can only apologize again. Part of me wanted to hurt you. I didn’t control it.”

“It must be hard to control it when you’re angry. When you’re threatened. When you see a weakness and can exploit it.”

Isis took a careful breath. Her system was still rocked, not only by what she’d seen, but what she’d done. “It isn’t my way. It’s against the foundation of my faith. I will cause no harm.” She lifted her hands, rubbing her fingertips under her eyes to dry them. “I’ll answer your questions. You wanted to know about Lobar.”

“You were seen arguing with him here in the store, the day before Alice died.”

“Was I?” She drew her composure back, cloaked it over her. “It’s always a mistake to believe yourself alone. Yes, he was here. Yes, we had words.”

“About?”

“Alice, most specifically. He was a misguided young man, filled with a dangerous self-importance. He thought himself powerful. He was not.”

“Alice wasn’t here, she wasn’t working that day?”

“No. I’d hoped she’d spend time with her family, connect with them again through her grandfather’s death. That was the primary reason I’d encouraged her to move out of here and into a place of her own. I’d asked her not to come in for a few days. Lobar expected her to be here. I don’t believe he was sent, but came on his own. Maybe to prove himself.”

“And you argued.”

“Yes. He said that I couldn’t hide her, that she’d never get away. She’d broken the law — the law that Cross and those who belong to her subscribe to. He said her punishment would be torture and pain and death.”

“He threatened her life, and you didn’t tell me. I was here before, and I questioned you.”

“No, I didn’t tell you. I considered it no more than a clash of wills, his against mine. He was no more than a pawn. I didn’t require HPS to intuit that. He only wanted to upset me, to prove his superiority. His way of doing so was to describe, graphically, what he had done to Alice sexually.” She drew another breath. “And he told me that I had been promised to him. That when I was taken in, when my power was crushed, he would be the first to lay hands on me. Then he told me what he intended to do and how much I would enjoy it. He invited me to sample some of his many talents then and there, so that I would see how much more of a man he was than Chas. I laughed at him.”

“Did he assault you?”

“He pushed me. He was angry. I’d deliberately baited him into it. Then I used it. An old spell,” she said with a flick of her hand. “What you might call a mirror or boomerang spell, so that what he was sending toward me — all the darkness, the violence, the hate — was reflected back at him, and when reflected, enlarged.” She smiled a little. “He left quickly, and very frightened. He didn’t come back.”

“And you were frightened?”

“Yes, on a physical level, I was.”

“You called Forte.”

“He’s my mate.” Isis lifted her chin. “I have no secrets from him, and I depend on him.”

“He’d have been angry.”

“No.” Eyes level, she shook her head. “Concerned, yes. We cast a circle, performed a rite for protection and for purification. We were content. I should have seen,” she continued, with regret shimmering in her voice. “I should have seen that Alice was their goal. Pride made me believe they would turn on me, that they wouldn’t dare touch her while she was under my protection. Maybe I wasn’t as honest with you as I might have been, Dallas, because without my pride blinding me, I know Alice might still be alive.”

Guilt was there, Eve decided as she drove off to pick up Peabody. And guilt could lead to retribution. Frank and Alice had been killed by a different method than Lobar and Wineburg. The deaths were connected, she was certain, but the connection didn’t mean they’d all been committed by the same hand.

She wanted to get back to Central, run a probability scan. There was enough data for it now. And if the numbers warranted it, she could go to Whitney and request the manpower for a twenty-four-seven watch on both groups of suspects.

Damn the budget, she thought as she fought traffic. She’d need a high probability ratio to wangle the expense of time, money, and manpower. But Peabody and Feeney weren’t enough to keep round-the-clock tabs on everyone involved.

Including Jamie, she thought. The kid was looking for trouble. She believed he was smart enough to find it.

Peabody hopped in when Eve swung to the curb at Seventh and Forty-seventh. Across the sidewalk, the rowdy noise and computerized warfare of a VR den spilled out of the open doorway. It nicked the ordinance on noise pollution, but Eve figured the proprietors were willing to risk a fine or two in order to lure in tourists and the bored.

“He in there?”

“Yes, sir.” Peabody looked hopefully at the rising steam from a glida grill. She could smell fresh soy burgers and oil fries. It was near enough to lunch to make her stomach yearn and her heart sink at the thought of facing the slop served at the Eatery back at Central. “Do you mind if I grab something from this cart?”

Eve shot an impatient look out the window. “Aren’t you supposed to starve a cold or something?”

“I never could keep that straight. Anyway,” Peabody took a long deep breath through her nose, “I feel great. That tea did the trick.”

“Yeah, yeah. Make it quick, and eat it on the way.”

“Do you want anything?” Peabody asked over her shoulder as she pushed out of the car.

“No. Snap it up and let’s roll.”

Drugs, sex, Satan, and power, Eve mused. A religious war? Hadn’t humans fought and died for beliefs since the dawn of time? Animals fought for territory; people fought for territory as well. And for gain, for passion, for beliefs. For the hell of it.

They killed, she thought, very much for the same reasons.

“Got two of everything,” Peabody announced and set the thin cardboard filled with food on the seat between them. “Just in case. If you don’t want it, I can probably choke it down. It’s the first time I’ve had an appetite in two days.”

She bit into the loaded burger while Eve waited for a break in traffic. “The kid led me on quite a route. Walked off his mad for ten blocks, caught an uptown tram, got off, headed west. And talk about appetite. He hit a cart on Sixth and downed two real pig dogs, and a mega scoop of fries. Hit another a block down for an orange Freezie, which happens to be a personal favorite of mine. Before he went into the VR den, he tagged this guy for three candy bars.” “Growing boy,” Eve commented, and shot out like a bullet when she saw a slim gap in traffic. Horns bellowed in protest. “As long as he’s eating junk and playing VR, he should stay out of trouble.”

Inside the whoops and whistles of the arcade, Jamie sneered at the holograms battling on his personal screen. He listened to the exchange in Eve’s car, courtesy of his earpiece, and the micro recorder and location device he’d planted.

Yeah, it had been worth the risk, he decided, diddling with the VR controls with his mind wandering. Of course, it hadn’t been that much of a challenge. Not only was the cop car a rolling heap of refuse, but its security system was rinky. At least when it came up against the skills of the master of electronics.

Dallas wouldn’t tell him what was going on, he thought grimly and destroyed the holo image of an urban tough. He’d just keep tabs on things his own way. And he’d deal with things his own way.

Whoever had killed his sister had better prepare to die.

Eve ran the probability program with mixed results. The computer agreed, by a ninety-six percentile, that the four cases were connected. The numbers dropped ten points when it came to tagging different perpetrators.

Charles Forte scored high on the index, as did Selina Cross. For Alban, she continued to run up against insufficient data.

Frustrated, she buzzed Feeney. “I’ve got some data I want to download on you. For a probability scan. Can you see what you can do with the numbers?”

He wiggled his brows. “You want them higher or lower?”

She laughed, shook her head. “I want them higher, but I want it solid. Could be I’m missing something.”

“Shoot it over, I’ll take a look.”

“Appreciate it. And there’s something else. I’m running into blanks every time I try to access data on this Alban character. The guy’s in his thirties. There has to be more on him. I’m not getting education, medical, family history. There’s no criminal record, not even an illegal zone stop. My take is he had it wiped.”

“Takes a lot of talent and a lot of money to wipe it clean. Something’s always somewhere.”

She thought of Roarke, and the suspiciously limited data on record. Well, he had a lot of talent, she reminded herself. And a lot of money. “I figured if anybody could find anything…”

“Yeah, flatter me, kid.” He winked. “I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks, Feeney.”

“Was that Feeney?” Mavis bounced in, literally, on new air pump, stack-heeled, neon yellow sneakers. “Shoot, you zipped off. I wanted to talk to him.”

Eve ran her tongue around her teeth. Mavis was decked out in classic Mavis style. Her hair matched her sneakers and made the eyes burn. She wore it in a spiral mass of curls that exploded up as much as down. Her slacks were glossy simulated rubber, dipped well below the glinting red stone in her navel, and hugged every curve. Her blouse, if it could be called that, was a snug band of material that matched the slacks and almost covered her breasts.

Over it all she wore a transparent duster.

“Anybody try to arrest you on the way in?”

“No, but I think the desk sergeant had an orgasm.” Mavis fluttered emerald green lashes and dropped into a chair. “Great outfit, huh? Just off Leonardo’s drawing board. So, are you ready?”

“Ready? For what?”

“We’ve got a salon date. Trina shuffled you in. I left the message on your unit. Twice.” She narrowed her eyes at Eve. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get it, because I know you did. You logged it out.”

Logged it out, Eve remembered. And ignored it. “Mavis, I don’t have time to play hair.”

“You haven’t taken lunch today. I checked with the desk sarge,” Mavis said smugly. “Before his orgasm. You can eat while Trina whips you into shape.”

“I don’t want to be whipped into shape.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if you hadn’t hacked at it again yourself.” Mavis rose, picked up Eve’s jacket. “You might as well come quietly. I’m just going to keep hounding you. Log out for lunch, take an hour. You’ll be back and making our city safe by one thirty.”

Because it was easier than arguing, Eve snatched the jacket, shrugged it on. “Just the hair. I’m not having her put all the gunk on my face.”

“Dallas, relax.” Mavis began to tug her out. “Enjoy being a girl.”

Eve snapped out her log book to mark time, scanning Mavis’s rubber clad butt bouncing along. “I don’t think that means the same thing to you as it does to me.”

Maybe it was the fumes — the potions and lotions, the oils and dyes and lacquers so typical in salons — but Eve found inspiration striking as she tipped back in her treatment chair.

She wasn’t sure how they’d gotten her to take off her clothes, submit to the indignity of the body smoother, the facial, the poking and prodding. She had managed to put her foot down — her bare, now toenail-painted foot down — when the discussion had veered toward temporary tattoos and body piercing.

Otherwise, she was a hostage, coated with goop, her hair covered with the spermlike cream Trina swore by. Privately, she could admit she was deeply terrified of Trina with her snapping scissors and green glop. That’s why she kept her eyes shut during the procedure, so as not to imagine herself emerging looking like a Trina clone with frizzed fuchsia hair and torpedo breasts.

“Been too long,” Trina lectured. “I told you, you need regular treatments. You got the basics, but you don’t enhance, you lose the edge. If you came in regular, it wouldn’t take so long to bring you back.”

She didn’t want to be brought back, Eve thought. She wanted to be left alone. She suppressed a shudder as she felt something buzzing around her eyes. Brow shaping, she reminded herself and struggled to calm. Trina was not tattooing a smiley face on her forehead.

“I’ve got to get back. I’ve got work.”

“Don’t rush me. Magic takes time.”

Magic, Eve thought and rolled her eyes, causing Trina to hiss at her. Everybody was obsessed with magic, it seemed.

She frowned, listening to Mavis chirp happily about a new body polish that gave the skin a gold glow. “This is mag, Trina. I’ve got to try it full body. Leonardo would lap it up.”

“You can get it temp, and edible. Six flavors on the market now. Apricot’s real popular.”

Potions and lotions, Eve thought. Smoke and mirrors. Rites and rituals. She opened her eyes to slits, saw Mavis and Trina huddled over a vial of gold liquid. Mavis with her neon hair, she thought with odd affection, Trina with her pink frizz.

Weird sisters.

Weird sisters, she thought again and sat up. Trina let out another hiss.

“Back down, Dallas. You got two minutes left.”

“Mavis, you said you used to run a psychic con.”

“Sure.” Mavis fluttered her newly painted neon nails. “Madam Electra sees all, knows all. Or Ariel, the sad-eyed sprite.” She dipped her head, managed to look delicate and forlorn. “I guess I had about six grifts on that theme.”

“You could spot somebody pulling the same grift?”

“Shit, are you kidding? From three blocks with sunshades on.”

“You were good,” Eve considered. “I never saw you in that gig, but you were good in the others.”

“You busted me.”

“I’m better.” Eve flashed a smile and felt the glop on her face ooze. “Listen; there’s this place you could check out for me,” she began as Trina marched over and shoved her back into the horizontal. “Both of you,” she added, eyeing Trina.