"She didn't bother to shut it down again."
"No," Eve agreed. "She didn't. There's the possibility someone was here when she got home. Someone who upset or frightened her. We'll check the security logs." She opened what she assumed was a closet, and let out a hum. "Well, look at this. She'd turned it into a room of some kind. Not a lot of clutter here. Get this on record."
Peabody stepped up, scanned the recorder over a small, white-walled room. The floor was wood with a white pentagram painted on it. A ring of white candles were arranged in careful symmetry around the edge. A small table held a clear crystal ball, a bowl, a mirror, and a dark-handled knife with a short, blunted blade.
Eve sniffed the air, but caught no hint of smoke or candle wax. "What do you figure she did in here?''
"I'd say it was kind of ritual room, for meditation, or casting spells."
"Jesus." With a shake of her head, Eve stepped back. "We'll leave that for now and check out her 'link. If no one was here to scare her back out, maybe she got a call that did. She came into the bedroom first," Eve murmured, wandering back to the small bedside 'link. "Maybe she intended to go in there and play witch after she'd changed and calmed down. She wasn't carrying anything when she went back out. She didn't come in here to get something and go out again. She was upset, she came home."
Eve engaged the 'link, requested a replay of the last call transmitted or received. And the room rilled with low, rhythmic chanting.
"What the hell is that?"
"I don't know." Uneasy, Peabody stepped closer.
"Replay," Eve demanded.
"Hear the names. Hear the names and fear them. Loki, Beelzebub, Baphomet. I am annihilation. I am revenge. In nomine Dei nostri Santanas Luciferi excelsi. Vengeance for you who strayed from the law. Hear the names and fear."
"Stop." Eve gave a quick, involuntary shudder. "Beelzebub, that's devil shit, isn't it? The bastards were playing with her, tormenting her. And she was already on the edge. No wonder she ran out of here. Where were you, you son of a bitch, where were you? Location of last transmission. Display." Her mouth thinned as she read the data. "Tenth and Seventh, right down the goddamn street. Probably a public 'link. Fuckers. She was heading right for them."
"There wasn't anyone there." But Peabody was watching Eve's face now, and the fury that fired in her eyes. "Even with the fog, the rain, I would have seen someone if they'd been laying for her. There wasn't anything there but a cat."
Eve's heart took a bad jump. "A what?"
"Just a cat. I caught a glimpse of a cat, but there was no one on the street."
"A cat." Eve walked to the window. Suddenly, she felt the need for a good gulp of air. There, on the sill, she saw the long, black feather. "And a bird," she murmured. She took out tweezers, held the feather up to the light. "We've still got the occasional crow in New York. A crow's the same thing as a raven, isn't it?"
"More or less. I think."
"Bag it," Eve ordered. "I want it analyzed." She rubbed her fingers over her eyes as if to push away fatigue. "Next of kin would be Brenda Wojinski, mother. Run that for an address."
"Yes, sir." Peabody took out her PPC, then simply held it while shame washed over her. "Lieutenant, I'd like to apologize for my earlier comment and my behavior."
Eve took the disc from the 'link, sealed it herself. "I don't recall any comment, Peabody, or any unsatisfactory behavior." She gave Peabody a level look. "While the recorder is still engaged, do another scan of the apartment."
Understanding, Peabody inclined her head. "I'm aware the recorder is still engaged, Lieutenant. I want this on the record. I was insubordinate and out of line both professionally and personally."
Damn stiff-necked idiot, Eve thought and bit back an oath. "There was no insubordination in my opinion or in my recollection, Officer."
"Dallas." Peabody loosed a sigh. "I damn well was. I was shaky and having a hard time dealing with the situation. It's one thing to see a body after it's done, and another to see a woman get tossed ten feet in the air and land on the pavement. She was under my watch."
"I was rough on you."
"Yes, sir, you were. And you needed to be. I thought that because you were able to maintain, you were able to do your job, it meant you didn't care. I was wrong, and I'm sorry."
"Acknowledged. Now, put this on record, Peabody. You followed orders, you followed procedure. You were not at fault for what happened tonight. You could not have prevented it. Now, put it aside so we can find out why she's dead."
– =O=-***-=O=-
Eve thought that a cop's daughter knew when another cop knocked on the door at five in the morning, it was with news of the worst kind. She saw, the minute Brenda recognized her, that she was right.
"Oh God. Oh God. Mama?"
"No, it's not your mother, Ms. Wojinski." There was only one way, Eve knew, and that was fast. "It's Alice. May we come in?"
"Alice?" She blinked glazed eyes, propped a hand on the door for balance. "Alice?"
"I think we should go inside." As gently as possible, Eve took her arm, stepped through the door. "Let's go in and sit down."
"Alice?" she said again. Grief cracked the glaze over her eyes. Tears poured through. "Oh no, not my Alice. Not my baby."
Brenda swayed, would have slid to the floor, but Eve tightened her grip and headed quickly for the nearest seat. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for your loss, Ms. Wojinski. There was an accident early this morning, and Alice was killed."
"An accident? No, you've made a mistake. It was someone else. It wasn't Alice." She clutched at Eve, flooded eyes pleading. "You can't be sure it was my Alice."
"It was. I'm sorry."
She collapsed then, burying her face in her hands, pressing her hands to her knees so her body was balled in a defensive shield.
"I could make her some tea," Peabody murmured.
"Yeah, go." It was the part of the job that made Eve feel the most helpless, the most inadequate. There was no solution for fresh grief. "Is there someone I can call for you? Do you want me to contact your mother? Your brother?"
"Mama. Oh God, Alice. How will we bear it?"
There was no answer for that, Eve thought. Yet they would. Life demanded it. "I can give you a soother, or contact your doctor, if you'd prefer."
"Mom?"
As Brenda continued to rock, Eve looked over. The boy stood in the doorway, blinking sleepy, confused eyes. His hair was tousled from sleep and he wore grubby sweatpants with holes at the knees.
Alice's brother, Eve remembered. She'd forgotten.
Then he focused on Eve, his eyes suddenly alert, and much too adult. "What's wrong?" he demanded. "What's happened?"
What the hell was his name? Eve struggled to remember, then decided it didn't matter at the moment. She rose. He was a tall boy, she realized, with sleep creases in his cheeks and a body already braced to take the worst. "There's been an accident. I'm sorry but – "
"It's Alice." His chin quivered, but his eyes stayed steady on hers. "She's dead."
"Yes, I'm sorry."
He continued to stare at her as Peabody came in with a cup of tea, set it awkwardly on the table. "What kind of accident?''
"She was hit by a car early this morning."
"Hit and run?"
"No." Eve watched him carefully, considering. "She stepped into the path of a cab. The driver was unable to stop. We're in the process of analyzing his vehicle and the scene, but there was a witness who corroborates the driver's statement. I don't believe he was at fault. He didn't attempt to flee the scene, and his driving record is clean."
The boy simply nodded, dry-eyed, while his mother's weeping filled the room. "I'll take care of her. It'd be best if you left us alone now."
"All right. If you have any questions, you can reach me at Cop Central. I'm Lieutenant Dallas."
"I know who you are. Leave us alone now," he repeated and went to sit by his mother.