Water destroyed evidence.
"We've been trying to decide if I should go there or they should come here," Chilton said.
"Best to go to the body," Elise said.
Since the victim had initially been pulled from the water, it probably made no difference, but Elise always felt it was better to have too much information than too little.
"Here they are."
Chilton's intern ran up, as happy as a puppy, a pair of hip waders in his hand. Chilton grabbed them and raised them into the air. "Are we going to draw straws for these?"
Elise heard a splash and turned to see Gould wading toward the center of the fountain, water hitting him above the knee, darkening his jeans.
"You go ahead," she said.
Chilton was wearing a suit and dress shoes, Elise nylon sandals and the kind of drawstring cotton pants a teenager might lounge in. Almost proper swimming attire.
She swung her legs over the stone barrier and stepped into the water.
"You doll," Chilton said.
He let out a satisfied sigh and put on the hip waders. Then he positioned himself on the cement wall surrounding the fountain, swung his legs over, and began sloshing through the water carrying a large gray case that resembled a fishing tackle box.
"I need more light," Chilton said when he reached the center. The foliage was dense and the single generated light stationed near the wrought-iron gates couldn't penetrate it. Immediately, powerful flashlights were directed on the body.
Nude.
Male.
Late teens, early twenties.
Moss was wrapped around the torso. A water lily clung to a forearm.
"We've got some serious deterioration going on." Chilton poked around with a gloved hand. "Our guy's not a fresh fish."
But then, a body could decompose fairly quickly in tepid shallow water under warm, humid conditions.
"Did he move?" someone asked. "Did anybody else see that? Because I thought he moved."
One of the EMTs jumped back and fell with a splash, water spraying.
After everything that had occurred lately, it wasn't surprising to find people jumpy and suspicious about true and absolute death. But if the body had a slit throat and had been submerged… not much room for doubt there.
The EMT came sloshing out of the pond, bringing with him gallons of water.
"He isn't going anywhere," Gould said. "Look." He waved his flashlight back and forth quickly across the victim. The shifting beam tricked the eye and made the body appear to move.
Light and shadow.
Someone sighed in relief.
Not Elise. She directed her own flashlight beam on the victim. Even though the face was swollen, it was one she'd seen before. One she'd seen fairly recently.
Enrique Xavier.
Chapter 35
There were times when the historic brick building that housed Police Headquarters seemed to inhale and exhale. Seemed to have a rhythm and heartbeat. You got used to it after a while, but when that rhythm was upset, you noticed. It was similar to a flock of blackbirds suddenly stopping their chatter. Or when a heart monitor flatlined.
It was the change that got your attention.
Elise was in her office with the phone to her ear, hoping the third time would be the charm and Strata Luna wouldpick up.
She didn't.
Were they going to have to issue a court order to bring her in for an interview?
At that point, Elise became aware of a hollowness in the air. She hung up and sat there, testing the moment.
The sensation reminded her of the stillness that came when the eye of a hurricane passed overhead. After hours of unending noise, after hours of the wind creeping under rafters and whistling through window cracks, finding and banging every tiny loose bit of anything-silence.
Then you knew you had time to open the door and run outside into the hollow, echoless void.
Elise opened her office door.
The halls were silent and empty.
The elevator motor kicked in. From downstairs, a beehive of sound began to build.
People.
Talking. Whispering.
The elevator stopped on the third floor. The door opened and Strata Luna stepped out.
"Detective Sandburg." The agitated words were spoken through a black veil. She hurried over, dress billowing. "You must do something. You must catch the person who did this terrible thing. Enrique's killer can't be allowed to enjoy one more second of freedom."
So much for a court order. "We're doing everything we can," Elise told her, knowing her words wouldn't be nearly enough to calm the upset woman. They were waiting on the lab results, and of course they were looking for TTX, but at the moment all involved were treating the Xavier case as nonrelated.
David Gould turned the corner and appeared at the end of the long hallway. Upon catching sight of Strata Luna, he stopped, coffee cup halfway to his mouth.
The noise downstairs increased. Pretty soon people would be making their way to the third floor with a sudden need to use the copy room.
"Let's go into my office," Elise said.
When they were all three inside, David closed the door and Elise pulled a chair around for their guest while the overhead fluorescent lights cast them in a green, twitching glow.
Strata Luna sat down, then lifted the veil with both hands. Her face held the expected signs of stress and grief.
"Would you mind if we took your statement?" Elise asked.
"That's why I'm here."
It wasn't common practice to take a statement in the privacy of their personal space, but considering the circumstances and Strata Luna's notoriety, Elise thought it wiser to remain where they were. Since they weren't set up to videotape, David called downstairs and was able to recruit a stenographer so Strata Luna's statement would hold up in court. Five minutes later they were questioning her, a young male stenographer clicking away while a small tape recorder ran silently on the desk in front of Strata Luna.
The interview began with the usual name, age, address, and phone number.
Then Elise moved on to questions relating to the case. "Did Enrique Xavier work for you?" she asked.
"Of course he did."
"Do you know anyone who may have wanted to harm him?"
Strata Luna pulled a tissue from a deep pocket of her black dress. "I keep asking myself that question." A tear ran down her cheek. "Could it be somebody he knows?" She wiped the tear away with a trembling hand. "Can you tell things like that? By how the body was found?"
"You mean like a crime of passion?" David asked.
"Yes."
"It's a little early for that kind of speculation," Elise said.
"Do you have someone in mind?" David pulled a pen and small notebook from his shirt pocket. "Someone you think could have been capable of such an act?"
The appearance of the notebook seemed to ground Strata Luna. The tears vanished and she pulled herself together. "No."
"When did you first notice Enrique was missing?" Elise asked, steering them back to the traditional questions.
"Three days ago."
"Three days?" David asked in exaggerated surprise.
Elise added her own question. "And you didn't report it to the police?"
"I have little faith in the Savannah Police Department."
"Then what are you doing here?" David asked.
"Enrique is dead!"
"Let's go back," Elise said, hoping to placate her. "You said he was gone for three days. Didn't you think that was strange?"
"He goes away sometimes. But he always returns to me."
"He leaves without telling you?"
Strata Luna tucked the tissue in her pocket, then admitted, "We had a fight."
"What do you mean, fight?" David broke in.
"An argument born of passion."
David caught Elise's eye. Okay. Wasn't expecting that.
"Are you saying Enrique was more than your employee?" Elise asked.
"Yes."
"He was your boyfriend?" Elise asked.
"What a stupid word."
"Okay, how about lover? Was he your lover?"
"I hate that word almost as much. We sometimes had sex." She shrugged. "That's all."