Secrets of the Dead (15 page)

The performer began a trick that had the tassels dangling from her breasts spinning in opposite directions. Malsovic was certain he’d lost Sorenson’s attention for good. His chair scraped back as he stood. “Contact me immediately tomorrow with what you find out.”

Mouth open slightly, Sorenson only nodded. Turning on his heel, Malsovic strode quickly away, scarcely able to control his exuberance. The Americans had a saying: to catch a break. He knew this was his. At the very least Sorenson would be able to discover a release date for the old woman. Once that was known, her car could be followed. He could verify what Gallagher was telling them about the location of the boy.

Malsovic pushed through the door, ducking his head at the cutting wind as he walked into the darkness. Perhaps something could be hidden in her luggage or in the car that she would ride in. Something that would facilitate his access to the area.

Ideas swirled in his mind. He’d have to think of something fast. This was his chance to beat Shuang. He let himself bask in the thrill of outwitting her. She’d make a powerful enemy.

But once the boy was his, Malsovic would have power. Far more than hers. Enough to finally win him the financial rewards he’d always dreamed of.

_______

“You can stay
in the waiting room. I’ll only be an hour or so.”

Eve’s tone was frigid. She hadn’t yet forgiven him for the incident in the store. The salesclerk, scenting an imminent sale, had been unshakeable, even going so far as to whisk back the curtain of Eve’s dressing room numerous times to provide her with even more items that would be “just perfect for her.” She’d been coerced a couple times to walk out to show Declan what she was wearing. And he hadn’t been able to fault the clerk’s taste, especially in one particular instance.

It might be a while before he forgot the sight of Eve in that snug sparkly blue dress that had left her shoulders and half her thighs bare and clung…just about everywhere. The clerk had gushed about it being the perfect holiday party dress. Declan had little experience with holiday parties, but the dress had been perfect. And the mental image of her in it was going to be difficult to banish from his memory.

“Raiker wants us to stick together.” He sent a careful eye around the hospital lobby and turned so he could see anyone pulling up to the bay out front. They’d lost the tail. He was certain of it. The man hadn’t been in position to see them leave the dress shop through the back entrance. Wouldn’t have had time to summon a cab to follow even if he had sighted them.

But you didn’t survive in deep cover by underestimating the enemy.

They passed the volunteer seated at the front desk and walked toward a bank of elevators all the while she continued her objections in Scottish. “Your presence can’t be as easily explained today as it was last night. I’d prefer not to have to lie to my parents about why you’re here.”

“No dishonesty will be required.” They paused before the elevators and he tapped the earbuds that dangled from her neck. “We’re working tonight. Doing some time-sensitive translation.”

Still she made no move toward to press the button that would take them to her father’s floor. “You can wait outside his room.”

It was a concession, and because he could see what it cost her Declan nodded. That would be close enough to ensure against the infinitesimal chance they’d been followed, while still giving her a modicum of privacy with her family. And though there was a curiosity blooming inside him regarding the people who had raised Eve, he wasn’t the type to go barging through others’ privacy barriers.

At least he never had been before.

They stepped into the first elevator going up with a handful of others, and she reached forward to stab a finger at the button that would take them to the fifth floor. He was content to trail behind her when the doors slid silently open. She marched down to the room without a glance at the nurse’s station and, easing the door open, went inside.

Declan took up stance against the wall next to the door, arms folded across his chest. He could clearly hear the voices in the room as Eve greeted her mother and father.

“Such a fuss.” The masculine tone was just a bit querulous and bore more than a slight resemblance to Vincent Larrison’s. “I’m fine. Could have gone home today if not for this blasted temperature. But the doctor said tomorrow for certain.”

“He said maybe.” The cool brisk tone that disputed the man was feminine. “But given that your fever has broken, if it doesn’t return I’m sure you’ll browbeat the staff into releasing you. The good news, Savvy, is that with a proper regimen of medication, exercise and diet, your father may be able to avoid surgery.”

Savvy. Declan’s interest was piqued. Her brother had called Eve that a couple times last night. A nickname, perhaps. He found himself more than a little curious about what it was short for. He’d asked her about it last night, but she’d deflected.

With determined mental effort he skirted the memory of the minutes he’d spent putting her to bed. This assignment was getting snarled up, and he was a man who liked things smooth. He needed some time and space to put things together starting with every detail of what had gone down in the hotel today.

“There’s really no use for Leslie and Vincent to come here later this evening,” Eve’s mother was saying. “Eve, why don’t you step out to the waiting room down the hall and call them to tell them so? You can’t use cells in this room because of your father’s machine.”

“They may already be on their way.” He was just able to pick up Eve’s reply.

“Then they can go back home. It’s a needless trip, and they have the children at home to consider. Don’t you agree, Ronald?”

“It’s not necessary.” Masculine tones sounded again. “I’m fine. I don’t need to be fussed over.”

“All right, I’ll try to reach them. I’ll be right back.” A moment later Eve came through the door. Without more than a warning glance in his direction, she headed toward the waiting area they’d passed when they’d gotten off the elevators.

“Oh, and Eve.” The door pushed open again and a woman stepped out. When she saw him she stopped in her tracks. “Who are you? And why are you lurking outside my husband’s room?”

Pushing away from the wall, Declan said, “You must be Eve’s mother. I’m Declan Gallagher. I work with Eve. As a matter of fact, we’re going to be working late tonight, but she wanted to stop by and see her father first.”

Here at last was one family member who bore a bit of resemblance to Eve. They were a similar height, but the older woman’s graying blond hair was worn in a no-nonsense short cut. Her features were sharper, more angular than her youngest daughter’s. And Declan had never seen that sort of suspicion in Eve’s expression.

“Gallagher.” Her eyes were a couple shades lighter blue than Eve’s. The expression in them shrewd. “Vincent mentioned that you’d brought Eve here last night. How odd that you’re together again today.”

Her inflection gave “odd” a very different definition altogether. Declan tried for a disarming smile. “The job we’re currently tasked with is a thorny one, and time sensitive. That’s why we’re putting in extra hours. Of course, if you need Eve here tonight, I’m sure I can manage the work myself.”

“Nonsense.” She stared in the direction Eve had disappeared. “Ronald doesn’t want a fuss, and we certainly understand the demands of a career. Even Savvy’s.”

He wondered about the qualifier, but her use of the nickname again interested him more. “Savvy. I heard your son call Eve that, too. Is it a family nickname?”

“Oh.” The woman gave a flutter of a hand. “It’s just a silly family joke. She has this talent for languages, you know. But she was always hopeless with upper level applied science or mathematics. For the longest time Ronald and I thought she was being deliberately obtuse. She had tutors and the finest schools. Vincent, her brother, once quipped that she was an idiot-savant. Which is a gross exaggeration, of course. There’s certainly nothing wrong with being average. And that savant-like ear of hers for languages has found her a niche, hasn’t it?”

Declan froze at her words, but she seemed not to notice. “I’m sorry, I really need to catch Eve so I can speak to her siblings, if she hasn’t already disconnected. Excuse me.” She hurried off.

A slow burn of anger ignited in his chest as he stared after her. Idiot-savant? The remark was so carelessly offensive on so many levels he could hardly wrap his head around it. What sort of family would dismiss Eve’s gift so callously?

I’m the mutant in the family, disappointingly average.

And Declan knew he’d just been handed one more piece to the puzzle that was Eve Lassiter. And it was one he would have felt far better to have not learned at all.

Chapter 8

“Where are you?”

At Raiker’s question, Declan moved in the direction of the waiting room that Eve had vacated a half hour earlier, his cell to his ear. “George Washington University Hospital. Eve’s father was admitted last night. Apparently he’ll be released tomorrow.”

“Perfect. You’re less than twenty minutes from the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner. How soon can you leave?”

“Ah…” Declan glanced in the direction of the closed hospital door. After making the phone calls, Eve and her mother had gone back in Larrison’s room and neither had exited again. “As soon as we need to, I guess. Why?” The fifth floor waiting room was very nearly isolated at this time of the evening. He found a corner with no one nearby and dropped into a chair there.

“After your report earlier this evening I made some calls. One was to Detective Ramos, who caught Hobart’s case. I told him we’d received a tip that the same killer might have struck again. Or at least dumped another body. Thought it might be worthwhile for him to check the interagency crime databases and see if anything had shown up in the area around the C&O Canal.”

Declan’s gut knotted. “And something did.”

“A woman’s body was fished out of the Potomac early this afternoon near Great Falls. A park ranger spotted something caught on the rocks this morning. It took the rescue unit most of the day to fish the body out. I called Cal Stillions, our case contact in the Bureau. He’s handling your invitation to the OCME to facilitate a possible identification of the body.”

Declan sent a sober glance toward Larrison’s room. “That means Eve will need to communicate with Brina again tomorrow.” He’d agreed with Raiker’s assessment earlier that day. He’d feel a lot better to have Eve in his sight for the remainder of time they were in the hotel. Especially when he thought of how easily her lost earring could have shown up in a far more dangerous spot.

“If the housekeeper IDs this woman as her missing friend, it lends instant credibility to her story and fast tracks the eventual raid on the hotel to rescue those women. It’s important to get as much information as we can out of your cover in the next twenty-four hours. Once the feds open a trafficking investigation your assignment will be curtailed.”

He’d had the same thought. “It was only supposed to take two or three days anyway. We’ll have enough by then.” They’d have to in order to ensure Royce Raiker’s safety.

“Things are moving fast. I’ll need more frequent updates tomorrow as they occur. Have Eve use the cell I provided to send emails as needed. It’s secure. Tell her to ask the housekeeper about any identifying marks the missing woman might have.” He broke off and Declan heard him speaking in an undertone to someone else. Then he was back. “You know what to do. Stay safe.” The call ended.

Declan walked back toward Larrison’s room, his mood grim. Staying safe was the problem. How did he keep Eve secure when she was out of his sight tomorrow? He was going to have to rethink his strategy with the cameras. Today he’d focused on trying to make alterations slight enough to garner no attention before they were switched back. That might not be an option the next day, at least not without making Shuang’s men suspicious. He sent her a text.
AR called. Need to leave.

It was less than five minutes before she was joining him outside the room, a quizzical expression on her face. “Something’s come up since we last spoke to him?” she asked in a low voice as he guided her toward the elevators. “Whatever it is, we’re stopping at the cafeteria first. We didn’t have dinner. And those chips I brought in this afternoon aren’t going to hold me for much longer.”

“Suck it up,” he advised her, drilling the down button with a forefinger. “Something tells me you aren’t going to want a full stomach for our visit to the morgue.”

_______

“Gallagher and Larrison?”
FBI agent Gilbert Stillions was tall and lean to the point of looking skeletal. An unfortunate descriptor, Eve thought, given the setting. The man unfolded himself from a chair just inside the OCME lobby and pushed open the doors to allow them entrance into the semi-darkened building. He flashed his shield then pulled out his phone and silently compared them to pictures Raiker must have sent of them. “All right,” he said finally, turning on his heel and heading down a hallway. “Follow me.”

In the daylight the building wouldn’t seem in the least spooky, Eve thought. It was fairly new, with light colored walls and tile floor that might appear bright in proper lighting. But the place was deserted and dimly lit. “Office hours close at four-thirty,” the man said over his shoulder. “But they have a technician staffing the place round the clock. She’ll give us a quick look at the body.”

“We won’t be able to ID it,” Declan said. He drew abreast with the man as they walked, their footsteps echoing hollowly in the empty hallway. “But if we get photos we can show them to someone tomorrow who possibly could.”

The agent grunted. “Hopefully. I hear it got pretty banged up in the water. There’s no ice on the river around the Great Falls. Current’s too fast there.” He said nothing more until they reached the morgue area, where they stopped in front of locked metal doors. Stillions pressed a button on the wall and waited.

It took a minute for a female in scrubs to approach and open the door. “These are the two I’ve been waiting for,” the agent said.

Silently she turned and headed down another hallway. “The autopsy won’t be scheduled for another day or two.” Her words trailed behind her as she walked. “You can view the body, but any information about it has to come from one of the ME’s.”

“We’re just after a viewing for now,” Stillions assured her. They followed the woman into another room she had to unlock. Eve had been bracing herself for the smells they would encounter, but the overwhelming scent in the room was one of antiseptic. One wall was lined with white metal doors, each two foot by three foot. The doors were stacked three high. Stopping at one midway down the row, the woman opened its heavy silver handle and pulled out the long metal table inside. Declan stepped forward to the side of the covered body. Even being braced for the expected odor didn’t prepare Eve for the reality of it. The overpowering smells of river water and decaying flesh had her swallowing hard a couple times before crossing to stand beside the technician.

Without ceremony, the woman lifted the sheet from the face of the corpse and folded it back. “Not badly bloated,” Declan observed. Amazingly, his voice was neutral.

“I’m told the body got hung up on the boulders, which tells me it must have been dumped upstream a ways. If it had gone over the falls it likely would have been worse.”

The agent’s words had a wave of nausea rocked Eve. It wasn’t facial puffiness that was going to impede this woman’s identification. The face was covered with slices in the skin, faintly purpled. No doubt the damage had occurred when it had come in contact with the rocks and debris in the river. The lips were shriveled and pink. The fingers were similarly withered. “How far away was the body from the C&O Canal area?”

Stillions scratched his head. His haircut was so short his scalp was visible. “If this is the same guy who offed Hobart, he doesn’t stray far from his favorite spot. Probably thought dumping the body in the water in that spot meant it would travel miles in a couple days. The current there is pretty powerful. The body probably would have been long gone by tomorrow if it hadn’t gotten hung up on that boulder.”

Eve forced herself to study the corpse. Was it Dajana, Brina’s friend? The hair was dark, as were the wide staring eyes that had pinpoints of red in them. She brought her coat sleeve up to her nose. Breathed through her mouth as she bent closer. There seemed to be bruising around her throat, which had to have occurred before death. The woman was thin. Brina was too, Eve recalled, as had been the other housekeepers she’d approached. Malsovic probably kept them half starved, as well as imprisoned.

The thought had her looking at the tech. “Can I see her ankles?”

The woman sent a look to the FBI agent and shrugged, silently lifting away the sheet that covered the rest of the body. Eve moved further down the table. Brina’s electronic bracelet had been on her right foot, she recalled, but there was no matching one on the victim. If this was Dajana, it would almost certainly have been removed before disposing of the body. She peered more closely before looking at the tech. “That looks like bruising around her right ankle.”

The technician looked in the direction Eve was indicating. “Those would have occurred ante-mortem, before death.”

Would Brina sport the same faint blue smudges on her skin from the constant friction of the heavy bracelet? Eve had to believe she would. “She was dumped nude?”

“Any clothes or covering that had been used to wrap her in would have been torn away by the current.” Declan’s words had Stillions giving him a closer look. “It’ll take the autopsy to answer the question of what kind of damage was sustained before death.”

And if the victim was Dajana, only Brina could give voice to the emotional damage done to the woman. Only she could bring the dead woman justice.

With unsteady hands, Eve drew her cell out of her purse. “I need to take pictures to show my contact tomorrow for a possible ID,” she told Stillions. The man nodded permission. Eve took several shots of the body from different angles, including a few of the feet. The faint bruises there seemed telling, but she knew they wouldn’t be enough for a positive identification. And there were no other identifying marks she could see on the body.

When she’d finished, she replaced the phone and stepped away from the table. Her lungs felt strangled from avoiding deep breaths, and she was more than ready to exit the room. But Eve knew she wouldn’t be leaving the image of the unidentified body behind.

She intercepted Declan’s quizzical look and nodded. “I think we’re done here,” he said to the federal agent, and the three of them stepped away from the table to leave the room. When they got to the hallway outside the area, Eve gulped in a deep breath, uncaring of the look the two men exchanged.

“I’d like to be notified once you hear from your contact regarding the identification,” Stillions said.

“Raiker will let you know immediately,” Declan assured him.

“What if she can’t make a positive ID from the pictures I took?” Eve thought of the damage to the face of the corpse, the forceful battering the body had taken in the river.

The agent shrugged as he drew on leather gloves that matched his drab brown winter jacket. “There are other methods of identification. Does she have access to items belonging to the missing woman that we could get DNA from? Or know of a dentist she might have visited? Even a photo from when the victim was alive could be used by a forensic anthropologist to do a match to the unidentified victim in the morgue. We have other avenues open to us.”

His smile looked more like a grimace. “It just would be faster if she can make an identification from the pictures you took.”

They separated in the parking lot outside the OCME building without saying anything more, Eve and Declan moving toward the cab they’d kept waiting while they were inside. “Where to next?” the driver asked once they’d gotten in.

Declan looked at Eve. “I assume our next stop is a restaurant.”

She turned her face to the window, a vivid mental image in her mind of the body they’d left behind. A woman who would never have another meal. Never see her family again. “Let’s go back to the apartment. I’m not very hungry.”

_______

In the end
he called ahead for takeout from Luigi’s Pizza, because it was on the way—sort of—and he didn’t trust Eve’s appetite not to return. The session in the morgue had rocked her; that much had been clear. And while they still needed to talk over the details of the day, he could give her time to regain her equilibrium. Declan still remembered his first dead body. The experience had left marks. It should. Too often those who took death lightly were the ones who dealt it.

So he followed her into the apartment, pretending not to notice that their tail from earlier this evening had taken up position across the street in the doorway of a liquor store. Maybe he’d see the pizza box Declan carried and assume he’d lost them when they went to get something to eat. It didn’t much matter either way.

“Are you picking up anything from the transmitter you planted?” He hunted down a plates and napkins. He skipped silverware, because using silverware to eat pizza was for sissies. Loading up two plates, he set both on the table before going to the refrigerator for a couple of beers. He’d never seen Eve drink one, but after the day she’d had Declan figured a shot of alcohol was probably in order.

“Shuang received two calls after we left today.” Where before she’d affix the earbuds only if she heard sound emanating from it, once she’d entered the apartment she put one bud into her ear and left the other to dangle free. “Both seemed to be handling problems from the hotel management. One sounded like an issue with the cleaning services. Which didn’t bode well for the housekeepers, because apparently a guest complained that linens were stained.”

He was glad to see that despite her words earlier she came over to the tiny table and sat down in front of one of the plates. When he twisted off the tops of the beers and set one in front of her, she didn’t protest. “She must have blamed Lin, a Chinese housekeeper I spoke to this morning. She summoned the woman to her office and…disciplined her.”

He could tell from her tone that the discipline hadn’t been only verbal. After a pause, Eve went on, “They spoke long enough that I was able to discern Shuang’s dialect. She likely came from Min Dong, in the eastern Min province, as she speaks with a Minhou dialect.” Her mouth twisted. “Obviously, the housekeeper was allowed to speak far less, but she’s almost certainly from Tibet. The second phone call was from someone she called Khalid. And it was much more interesting. Shuang kept assuring him that the ‘issue’ from last night had been taken care of.” Eve stared at the pizza on her plate. “I have to wonder now if the ‘issue’ she was referring to was Dajana.”