"Yeah, we're real worried about that right now. Why did you kill Louis Trivane?"
"He was evil. Chas said so."
"By Chas you're referring to Charles Forte."
"Yes, but no one calls him Charles. It's just Chas."
"And Chas told you Louis was evil. Did he ask you to kill Louis?"
"He said I could. Other times I just got to watch. But this time I got to do it myself. There was a lot of blood." She lifted a hand, studied it carefully. "Gone now."
"What other times, Mirium?"
"Oh, other times." She moved her shoulders. "Blood purifies."
"Did you assist or witness other murders?"
"Sure. Death is a transition. I got to do this one. It was a very powerful act. I cut the demon out of him. Demons exist, and we fight them."
"By killing the people they inhabit."
"Yes. He said you were smart." Mirium beamed at her out of slanted black eyes. "But you'll never touch him. He's too far removed from your law."
"Let's go back to Louis. Tell me about it."
"Well, I have a friend on staff at the Luxury. All I had to do was screw him, and that was okay. I like to screw. Then I slipped one of the master codes in my pocket. You can get in most anywhere with a master. I put on one of the maids' dresses, so no one would bother me, and I went right on in Louis's suite. I took him towels. He was in the bathroom. He'd been sick, I could smell it. Then I stabbed him. I went for the throat, just like I was supposed to. Then I guess I got into it."
She moved her shoulders again, sent Eve a mischievous smile. "It's kind of like punching a knife through a pillow, you know. And it makes this sucky noise. Then I cut the demon out of him, and you came. I guess I'd finished, anyway."
"Yeah, I guess you had. How long have you known Chas?"
"Oh, a couple of years. We like to make it in the park, in the daytime, because you never know if somebody's going to come along and see."
"How does Isis feel about that?"
"Oh, she doesn't know." Mirium rolled her eyes. "She wouldn't like it."
"How does she feel about the murders?"
Mirium's brows knit and her eyes unfocused for a moment. "The murders? She doesn't know. Does she? No, we wouldn't tell her about that."
"So it's just between you and Chas."
"Between me and Chas." Her eyes fluttered, stayed blank. "I guess. Sure."
"Have you told anyone else in the coven?"
"The coven?" She laid her fingers on her lips, tapped them. "No, no, it's our secret. Our little secret."
"What about Wineburg?"
"Who?"
"In the parking garage. The banker. Do you remember?"
"I didn't get to do that." She bit her bottom lip now, shook her head. "No, he did that. He was supposed to bring me the heart, but he didn't. He said there wasn't time."
"And Lobar?"
"Lobar, Lobar." Her fingers kept tapping. "No, that was different. Wasn't it? I can't remember. I'm getting a headache." Her voice turned petulant. "I don't want to talk anymore now. I'm tired." She laid her hands down on her folded arms and closed her eyes.
Eve watched her for a moment. There wasn't any point in pushing now, she decided. She had enough.
Eve signaled a uniform. Mirium murmured sulkily as Eve slipped the restraints back into place. "Take her down to Psych. Get Mira to do the evaluation, if possible; make a note to request permission for a drug scan."
"Yes, sir." Eve stepped to the door behind them, pushed a call button. "Have Forte brought to Interview Room C."
It occurred to her that she would like to lay her head on pillowed arms herself. Instead, she turned down the corridor into the observation area. Peabody stood beside Feeney.
"I want you in on this, Peabody. What did you think of her, Feeney?"
"She's whacked." He held out his bag of nuts. "Whether it's psych or induced, I dunno. Looks like a mix of both to me."
"That was my take. How come she seemed so damn normal the other night?" Then she pulled her hands through her hair and laughed. "I can't believe I'm saying that. She was standing naked in the woods letting Forte kiss her crotch."
She lowered her hands, pressed them to her eyes, then dropped them. "His father never used a partner. That was never hinted at. He worked alone."
"So, he's got a different style," Feeney said. "Whacked or not, the girl pinned Forte."
"It doesn't feel right to me," Peabody murmured, and Eve turned to her with a mildly interested glance.
"What doesn't feel right, Officer?"
Detecting the light trace of sarcasm, Peabody lifted her jaw. "Wiccans don't kill."
"People kill," Eve reminded her. "And not everybody takes their religion seriously. Had any red meat lately?"
The flush worked up from under Peabody's starched uniform collar. Free-Agers were strict vegan and used no animal by-products. "That's different."
"I walked in on a murder," Eve said shortly. "The woman with the knife in her hand identified Charles Forte as her accomplice. That's fact. I don't want you to take anything but fact into that interview room. Understood?''
"Yes, sir." Peabody stiffened her shoulders. "Perfectly." But she stood in place a moment longer when Eve strode off.
"She's had a rough morning," Feeney said sympathetically. "I got a quick scan of the first crime scene shots. It doesn't get any rougher."
"I know." But she shook her head, watching as Charles Forte was led into the room behind the glass. "But it just doesn't feel right."
She turned away, headed around the corner, and stepped into the interview room just as Eve was reading Forte his rights.
"I don't understand."
"You don't understand your rights and obligations?"
"No, no, I understand them. I don't understand why I'm here." There was puzzlement and a vague sense of disappointment as he turned his gaze toward Peabody. "If you'd wanted to speak with me again, you had only to ask. I would have met you, or come in voluntarily. It wasn't necessary to send three uniformed officers to my home."
"I thought it was necessary," Eve answered shortly. "Do you want counsel or representation at this time, Mr. Forte?"
"No." He shifted in agitation, tried to ignore the fact that he was inside a police facility. Like his father. "Just tell me what you want to know. I'll try to help you."
"Tell me about Louis Trivane."
"I'm sorry." He shook his head. "I don't know anyone by that name."
"Do you usually send your handmaids out to murder strangers?''
"What?'' His face went white as he pushed himself to his feet. "What are you talking about?"
"Sit down." Eve snapped the order out. "Louis Trivane was murdered two hours ago by Mirium Hopkins."
"Mirium? That's ridiculous. That's impossible."
"It's very possible. I walked in while she was cutting out his liver."
Chas swayed, then sank onto his chair. "There's a mistake. It couldn't be."
"I think the mistake was yours." Eve rose, wandered over, then leaned over his shoulder. "You should pick your weapons more carefully. When you use defective ones, they can turn on you."
"I don't know what you mean. May I have some water? I don't understand this."
Eve jerked a thumb to Peabody, signaling her to pour a glass. "Mirium told me everything, Chas. She told me that you were lovers, that you neglected to bring her Wineburg's heart as promised, and that you'd allowed her to execute Trivane herself. Blood purifies."
"No." He lifted the glass in both hands and still slopped water over the edge as he tried to drink. "No."
"Your father liked to slice people up. Did he show you how it was done? How many other defective tools have you used? Did you dispose of them after you'd finished with them? Keep any souvenirs?"
She continued to hammer at him while he sat, just sat, shaking his head slowly from side to side.
"Was this your version of a religious war, Chas? Eliminate the enemy? Cut out the demons? Your father was a self-styled Satanist, and he'd made your life a misery. You couldn't kill him, you can't get to him now. But there are others. Are they substitutes? When you kill them, are you killing him, hacking him to pieces because of what he did to you?"