Indulgence in Death (3 page)

He laughed again, took her hand, gave it a swing. “We should call the rest in, and you can show me around.”

“Sure.”

The kid bolted for the playground the second he got the signal and set to scrambling up ladders, hanging from bars, swinging on poles like a freckle-faced monkey.

Eve supposed it was a solid endorsement.

Before long, Sinead and more of the family who came along set up food on picnic tables where dogs were shooed away.

When Sinead walked over to sit on the lip of the fountain, Roarke followed, sat beside her. She took his hand, sat for a moment in silence.

“It’s good to know my grandchildren and those that come after will play here, and laugh and fight and run. It’s good something lasting and kind can come out of the sorrow and loss. Your wife knows your heart, and that makes you a rich man.”

“It does. You put in a great deal of time on this.”

“Oh, I’ve some to spare, and it was a gift to me, too. To my brothers, to all of us. Our mother cried when I told her what Eve wanted to do. Good tears. All of us shed too many sorrowful ones for Siobhan, so good tears wash clean. Your woman knows death and sorrow. They sit on her, move in her, and have made her sensitive.” She glanced at him. “She has a gift, a touch of sight that doesn’t come through the eyes, but the heart and the belly.”

“She’d call it instinct, training, cop sense.”

“Hardly matters what it’s called, does it? Ah now, look here.” She laughed, drew him to his feet. “Here’s a friend come to play with you.”

Puzzled, he looked around. Grinned. “Well, it’s Brian, come from Dublin.”

“I thought you’d enjoy a childhood friend on such a day. Go on then, as it looks as if he’s making time with your wife.”

Brian Kelly’s grin stretched across his wide, ruddy face as he pulled Eve into a hug. “Ah, Lieutenant darling.” He crushed an enthusiastic kiss to her mouth. “The minute you’re ready to toss Roarke aside, I’ll be there.”

“Always good to have backup.”

He barked out a laugh, then draped an arm over her shoulders as Roarke strode toward them. “I’ll fight you for her. And fight dirty.”

“Who could blame you?”

He chuckled, releasing Eve to give Roarke the same greeting—a crushing hug and kiss. “You always were a lucky bastard.”

“It’s good to see you, Brian.”

“Your aunt was kind enough to ask me.” He eased back to look around the pretty little park. “Well, isn’t this a thing now. Isn’t this a fine thing?”

Eve looked down when Sean tugged on her hand. “What?”

“The dogs’ve run off in the woods over there.”

“Okay.”

“They won’t come back when I call, just go on barking.”

“And?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Well, you’re a detective, aren’t you? I’m not allowed to go in on my own, so you’ll have to come with me to find them.”

“I will?”

“Aye, of course,” he said matter-of-factly. “They might’ve found something. Like a treasure, or a clue to a mystery.”

“Or a squirrel.”

He gazed at her darkly. “You can’t know until you know.”

Brian spoke up. “I could use a bit of a walk to stretch my legs after the drive from Dublin. I could use some treasure as well.”

Sean beamed at Brian. “We’ll go then, but she has to come. She’d be in charge as she’s a lieutenant.”

“Fair enough. Up for a bit of search and rescue?” he asked Roarke.

“I’ll show you the way!” The boy raced ahead.

“Come on, Lieutenant.” Roarke took her hand. “You’re in charge. How are things at the pub, Brian?”

“Oh, much the same. I pull the pints, listen to the gossip and the woes.” He winked over Eve’s head at his friend. “It’s the quiet life for me now.”

“How do you say
bullshit
in Irish?” Eve wondered.

“Now, Lieutenant darling, I’m a reformed man since this one led me onto the wayward path in my youth. You come to Dublin again soon, see for yourself. I’ll stand you both to all you can drink.”

They walked easily, though the boy raced back and forth urging them to hurry. Eve heard the dogs now, high, excited, insistent barking.

“Why are dogs always running off to find something to sniff at, pee on, or chase?”

“Every day’s a holiday when you’re a dog,” Brian observed. “Especially when there’s a boy in the mix.”

When they reached the verge of the trees she resigned herself to tromping through nature—a dangerous bitch in her opinion.

Moss grew green on rock and tree with sunlight filtering with a greenish hue through the leaves. Gnarled branches twisted themselves into strange shapes as they rose up or spread out.

“Mind the faeries,” Brian said with a grin. “Christ, it’s been years since I stepped into a country wood. Roarke, do you remember when we skinned those Germans in the hotel, then hid out for two days with travelers in the wood down in Wexford till the heat was off?”

“Jesus, I’m standing right here,” Eve pointed out. “Cop.”

“There was that girl,” Brian continued, unabashed. “Ah, the sultry beauty. And no matter how I tried to charm her, she only had eyes for you.”

“Again, right here. Married.”

“It was long ago and far away.”

“You lost half your take at dice before we were done there,” Roarke reminded him.

“I did, yes, but had a fine time.”

“Where’s the kid?” Eve stopped a moment.

“He’s just run ahead a bit,” Roarke said. “He’s having an adventure.”

They heard him call out. “There you are, you great stupids!”

“And he’s got the dogs.”

“Good, he can bring them back or whatever.” She stood where she was, scanning. “Is it creepy in here, or is it just me?”

“Just you, darling.” Roarke started to call Sean back, when he heard the sound of running. “Here he comes.”

The boy flew down the path, the freckles standing out starkly on his white face, his eyes huge. “You have to come.”

“Is one of the dogs hurt?” Roarke moved forward, but the boy shook his head, grabbed Eve’s arm.

“Hurry. You have to see.”

“See what?”

“Her. The dogs found her.” He pulled and dragged. “Please. She’s awfully dead.”

Eve started to snap something, but the look in Sean’s eyes killed annoyance, awoke instinct. The kid wasn’t having a harmless adventure now. “Show me.”

“An animal,” Brian began, “or a bird. Dogs will find the dead.”

But Eve let Sean guide her off the rough path, through the thickets, over moss-coated rocks to where the dogs sat, quiet now, quivering.

“There.”

Sean pointed, but she’d already seen.

The body lay belly down, one high-heeled shoe tipping loosely off the right foot. The face, livid with bruising, was turned toward her, eyes filmed, sightless as the pale green light showered down.

The kid was right, she thought. That was awfully dead.

“No.” She yanked him back when he took another step forward. “That’s close enough. Keep those dogs away. They’ve already compromised the scene.”

Her hand automatically reached up for the recorder that wasn’t on her lapel. So, she etched the scene in her mind.

“I don’t know who the hell to call in around here.”

“I’ll see to it.” Roarke pulled out his pocket ’link. “Brian, take Sean and the dogs back, would you?”

“No. I’m staying.” Sean dug in, hands fisted at his sides. “I found her, so I should stay with her. Someone killed her. Someone killed her and left her alone. I found her so I have to look after her now.”

Before Roarke could object, Eve turned to the boy. She’d thought to dismiss him, but something on that young, freckled face changed her mind. “If you stay, you have to do what you’re told.”

“You’re in charge.”

“That’s right.” Until the locals got there. “Did you touch her? Don’t lie, it’s important.”

“I didn’t. I swear. I saw the dogs, and I ran up. Then I saw her, and I tried to yell, but . . .” He flushed a little. “I couldn’t make anything come out. I made the dogs come away from her, and sit, and stay.”

“You did just right. Do you know her?”

He shook his head, slowly, solemnly, from side to side. “What do we do?”

“You already secured the scene, so we keep it secured until the police come.”

“You’re the police.”

“I don’t have authority here.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not New York. How far is this from a road?”

“It’s not far that way to the road that goes right by my school.” He pointed. “We cut through sometimes, if I was with some of the older cousins, when they were putting up the playground and such.”

“Who else comes in here?”

“I don’t know. Anyone who wants to.”

“Garda’s coming,” Roarke told her.

“Sean, do me a solid and walk Roarke to the road you told me about. I’ll stay with her,” she assured him before he could object. “I want to know how long it takes to walk it.”

“Is it a clue?”

“It might be.”

When they were out of earshot, Eve said, “Fuck.”

“Aye,” Brian agreed. “She’s young, I think.”

“Early twenties. About five-five and a hundred and twenty. Mixed race female, blond with blue and red streaks, brown eyes, tats on inner left ankle—small bird—and back of right shoulder—flaming sun. Pierced eyebrow and nose, multiple ear piercings. She’s city. She’s still wearing the rings and studs, rings on three fingers.”

“Well, I can’t say I noticed all of that, but see it right enough now. How did she die?”

“Best guess, from the bruising, strangulation with some smacking around prior. She’s fully dressed, but there could have been sexual assault.”

“Poor child. A hard end to a short life.”

Eve said nothing, but thought murder was always a hard end however short or long the life. She turned as she heard Roarke and the boy come back.

“It’s no more than a two-minute walk to the road, and the path’s clear enough. Street lighting would come on at dusk, as it’s near the school.” He waited a moment. “I could put together a makeshift field kit without too much trouble.”

She itched for it. “It’s not my place, not my case.”

“We found her,” Sean argued, with considerable stubborn in his tone.

“That makes us witnesses.”

Once again she heard rustling, footsteps. A uniformed cop came into view on the path. Young, she thought, and nearly sighed. As young as the dead with the open, pink-cheeked face of innocence.

“I’d be Officer Leary,” he began. “You reported a bit of trouble? What . . .” He trailed off, turned the same pale green as the light, when he saw the body.

Eve grabbed his arm, turned him away. “Soldier up, Leary. You’ve got a DB, and don’t want to compromise the scene by booting on the vic.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You would be if you puked. Where’s your superior?”

“I—my—ah—Sergeant Duffy’s in Ballybunion with his family on holiday. He only left this morning. Who are you? Are you the Yank cop from New York City? Roarke’s cop?”

“I’m Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD. Put your damn recorder on, Leary,” she muttered.

“Yes. Sorry. I’ve never . . . we don’t. I’m not quite sure what I’m about.”

“You’re about to take a witness report, secure this scene, then call in whoever it is around here who investigates homicides.”

“There really isn’t anyone—that is, not right around here. I’ll have to contact the sergeant. We just don’t have this happen here. Not here.” He looked at her. “Would you help me? I don’t want to make a mistake.”

“Names. You have mine. That’s Roarke. This is Brian Kelly, a friend from Dublin. This is Sean Lannigan.”

“Yeah, I know Sean here. How’s it all going then?”

“I found her.”

“Are you doing all right there, lad?”

“Sean, tell the officer what you know, what you did.”

“Well, see, we were all over at the park there, having another picnic, and the dogs ran off in here. They wouldn’t come back and were barking like the mad. So I asked my lieutenant cousin to come find them with me. We all came in the wood, and I went on ahead to where the dogs were barking. And I saw her there, the dead girl, and I ran back and brought our cop to see.”

“That’s a good lad.” Leary looked appealingly at Eve.

“We’ve remained here since the discovery. Roarke and Sean walked to the road and back. The dogs have been all over the scene, as you can see from their prints in the softer ground. You can also observe shoe prints, which would most likely belong to whoever put her here, as none of us have gone closer than we are now.”

“Shoe prints. Aye, I see. All right. I can’t say I recognize her.”

“She’s not from around here.” Eve dug for patience. “She’s city. Multiple tats and piercings, neon polish, fingers and toes. Look at the shoe. She didn’t walk in here wearing those. This is a dump site.”

“You’re meaning she wasn’t killed here, but put here, as you said before.”

“There’s no sign of struggle here. No bruising on her wrists or ankles, so she wasn’t restrained. Somebody punches you in the face a few times, chokes you to death, you generally put up a fight. You need to record her, call in your ME, forensics. You need to ID her and determine time of death. The animals haven’t been at her, so she can’t have been here very long.”

He nodded, kept nodding, then pulled an ID pad out of his pocket. “I’ve got this, but I’ve never used it.”

Eve walked him through it.

“She’s Holly Curlow. Lives in—lived in—Limerick.”

Eve tipped her head to read the data. Twenty-two, single, bar waitress, a couple of illegals pops. Next of kin, mother from someplace called Newmarket-on-Fergus.

Where did they get these names?

“I’ll, ah, need to get the other equipment—and I’ll contact the sergeant. Would you mind staying, to secure the scene? To keep it that way, I’m meaning. This is a bleeding mess, and I want to do right by her.”

“I’ll wait. You’re doing okay.”

“Thanks for that. I’ll be back quick as I can.”

She turned to Sean. “We’ve got her now, okay? I’ll stay with her, but you need to go back. You and Brian need to go back, take the dogs. Leave this to me now.”

“She has a name. She’s Holly. I’ll remember it.”

“You stood up, Sean. You stood up for her. That’s the first thing a cop has to do.”