He said his name and rank and then he got a good look at Rule. He went from chilly to frigid. “What is he doing here? And her?”
“Her” meant Cynna. She gave him an eat-shit-and-die smile.
Lily was crisp. “He’s consulting, she’s MCD, same as me… if it’s any of your business. Who ordered the body removed?”
“I did. The techs were finished with it.”
“I asked that the body not be moved.”
“We don’t always get what we want, do we? Guess I didn’t get the message.” His smile was tight—like his underwear, Cynna suspected. Just as she suspected he’d gotten the message and ignored it.
Lily’s finger started tapping on her thigh. “I’d like to see your shield, Detective.”
His eyes narrowed, but he took it out, flashed it, and then started to put it back in his inside jacket pocket.
Lily just stood there with her hand out. He paused, trying to look like he wasn’t pissed. Finally she handed it over.
She dug into one of the pockets in that oversize envelope and pulled out a snazzy little leather folder with a notepad inside. There she jotted down his shield number before giving it back to him. “We’ll look at the scene first. Where will I find the body?”
“The hospital morgue. We aren’t a big city with a separate crime morgue. But, ah…” And here he started to feel a bit better. “I’m afraid I can’t let you onto the scene.”
Lily’s eyebrows went up. “I’m at a loss to understand why you think you have a choice.”
“Oh, I’ll cooperate. If your district office wants to send someone else, I’d be glad to cooperate. But I can’t very well let you onto the scene.” He was enjoying himself now. “Not when you’re implicated.”
For a long moment, Lily didn’t say a word. Cynna glanced at Rule, expecting him to say or do something. But he was just watching, wearing this little smile as if he expected to enjoy what came next.
“I’m sure it can be cleared up,” Leung said, riding a good smug now. “But that note links you to the crime. I can’t take any chance of the scene being… contaminated.” He made it sound like the three of them contaminated the air by breathing it. “If you object, you can always go downtown and talk to the chief.”
“You misunderstand,” she said evenly. “Title 28, United States Code, Section 533 authorizes the attorney general to appoint officials to investigate crimes against the United States.”
“What the hell does that—”
“Title 18, Chapter 51, Section 1111 makes it a federal crime to use magical means to commit murder. Chapter makes it a federal crime to conspire to commit an act of violence, including violence by magical means. I am the duly constituted official investigating a conspiracy to attempt the murder of multiple persons, including law enforcement personnel, by magical means. My authority comes from the attorney general and supercedes that of your chief of police. My chief suspect was seen with your victim. He left me a goddamned signed note about it on the body. Title 18, Chapter 55—”
“I’m not disputing jurisdiction,” he put in quickly. “I’m saying that you—”
“And I’m saying that you lack the authority to bar me from this scene. If you have concerns about my fitness or possible culpability in this crime, you may relate them to my superiors. Don’t bother the district office—they lack the authority to interfere, too. You’d better go right to the head of MCD. Ruben Brooks. He’s at FBI headquarters in Washington. Call him.” She produced a cell phone from another of her bag’s pockets and tossed it to him.
It spoke well for Leung’s reflexes that he caught it in spite of his deer-in-the-headlights look.
Lily just kept rolling. “The number for his direct line is on speed dial. Hit seven.”
“Wait a minute,” he said. “I don’t want—”
“If you’re not prepared to challenge my fitness, then I request and require your cooperation.” She turned and started for the duplex. The two closest uniformed cops were trying to look like they weren’t enjoying the exchange. Maybe Leung wasn’t popular with the rank-and-file.
Rule had caught his cue immediately and kept pace with her. Cynna dropped in behind.
“What was the victim wearing?” Lily asked without looking back.
“Nothing.” Leung hurried to catch up and grabbed Lily’s arm just as she reached the porch. “I’m not letting that were in. He’s no federal agent.”
He hadn’t, Cynna noticed, tried grabbing Rule. Good call.
“You,” Lily said, her voice as cold as her eyes were hot, “had better let go of me right now. Unless you are planning to make an arrest?”
He dropped his hand, looking like he wanted to hit her with it. She looked back at him, her gaze steady as the bead of a sniper. Finally he looked away.
She stepped onto the porch. “Turner won’t be going inside right away. But that’s my call, not yours.” She opened her purse and pulled out a wad of plastic, which she separated into gloves and booties.
Cynna glanced at Leung’s feet. He hadn’t bothered with the booties. Now that she thought of it, he hadn’t been wearing gloves when he came out of the house, either.
“Where was the body found?” Lily asked, bending to pull the plastic over one shoe.
“Bedroom at the back. In bed, arranged neatly—her hands were folded over her heart.” He grudged it. but Cynna figured he was telling himself he’d won one battle, with the exclusion of Rule from the scene.
“Any signs of sexual assault?”
He shook his head. “No resistance wounds, no visible tearing, and I didn’t see any traces of semen.”
“The guy who found her—he’s a friend or a boyfriend?”
“He claims they weren’t steady, just dated now and then. But it bugged him enough when she went home with someone else that he came by later. Says he wanted to be sure she was okay.” His expression announced how little he believed that.
“Did he have a key, or was the door unlocked?”
“Open, he says. Ajar, not wide open.”
It was open now, too. Cynna could see an ordinary living room through the doorway—beige sofa and carpet, a television. No evidence techs in sight. Now that she thought of it, she didn’t hear their little vacuums, either. Surely they hadn’t done the whole place already?
Lily gave Rule a nod. He must have known what that meant, because he stepped up to the door, crouched down, and put his face next to the knob.
“What the hell—!” Leung exclaimed.
She waved him to silence. Rule got a good sniff, then faced into the beige living room. He did this thing with his head, like a dog scenting the air. Then he looked at Lily over his shoulder. Cynna got his profile—gorgeous, but grim. “I don’t get anything distinctive from the door,” he said. “But in there…” He jerked his head toward the living room. “Death magic.”
Lily turned to Leung. “This is my investigation now, and this place is sealed. No one goes in without my say-so.”
“You can’t—”
“I just did.”
Lily had to get her phone back from Leung. While he put in a call to his chief to complain about her, she punched seven—and prayed she hadn’t just seriously exceeded her authority.
She glanced at her watch as the phone rang on the other end. Seven-thirty here meant eleven-thirty in D.C., so unless he was in a meeting…
“Hello, Lily,” he said.
Unless he was in a meeting, he answered this phone himself. Only members of the Unit had the number. “I’ve got a murder by magical means. Harlowe’s involved.”
“Go on.”