Ceremony In Death

CHAPTER NINE

Jamie's eyes were fierce, furious. Eve kept hers on his as she laid her palms on the table and leaned forward. "Are you telling me that you saw Lobar kill your sister?''

Jamie's mouth worked as if he was chewing the words, and the words were bitter. "No. But I know. I know he was one of them. I saw him with her. I saw all of them." His chin wobbled and his voice cracked, reminding her he was only sixteen. But his eyes stayed ageless. "I got in one night. In that apartment downtown."

"What apartment?"

"Spooky Selina and Asshole Alban." He shrugged a shoulder, but the movement was more nervous than cocky. "I watched one of their devil shows." His hand wasn't quite steady as he picked up his drink and sucked down the last of the Pepsi.

"They let you observe a ceremony?"

"They didn't let me do anything. They didn't know I was there. You could say I let myself in." He glanced at Roarke. "Their security isn't nearly as jazzy as yours."

"There's good news."

"You've been a busy boy, Jamie," Eve said evenly. "Planning on cat burglary as a career?"

"No." He didn't smile. "I'm going to be a cop. Like you."

Eve blew out a breath, scrubbed her hands over her face, and sat. "Cops who make a habit of illegal entry end up on the wrong side of a cage."

"They had my sister."

"Were they holding her against her will?"

"They messed with her mind. That's the same thing."

Touchy area, Eve mused. She couldn't go back and stop the kid from breaking into private property. His grandfather had been a solid cop, she remembered, and had tried to do the same. The boy had simply succeeded.

"I'm going to do you a favor because I liked your grandfather. We're going to keep this off the record. As far as the record goes, you were never there. Never inside that place. You got that?"

"Sure." He jerked a shoulder. "Whatever."

"Tell me what you saw. Don't exaggerate, don't speculate."

Jamie's lips curved a little. "Grandpa always said that."

"That's right. You want to be a cop, give me a report."

"Okay. Cool. Alice was in Weird City, right? She'd been cutting classes, making noises about dropping out. Mom was really wrecked over it. She thought it was a guy, but I knew it wasn't. Not that she was talking to me. She'd stopped talking to me."

He broke off then, his eyes dark and miserable. Then he shook his head, sighed once, and continued. "But I knew her. Alice would get all moony over a guy, dreamy-eyed and spastic. But with this, she was different. I figured she'd started experimenting. Illegals. I know my mom had talked to my grandfather, and he'd talked to Alice, but nobody was getting anywhere. So I figured I'd check it out. I followed her a couple times. I thought it would be good practice. Surveillance. She never tagged me. None of them did. A lot of people don't see kids, or if they do, they think they're harmless idiots."

Eve kept her eyes hard on his face. "I don't think you're harmless, Jamie."

His lips twisted in a smirk. He recognized that Eve's statement wasn't exactly flattering. "So I tailed her to that club. The Athame. First time I had to wait outside. I wasn't prepped for it. She went in about ten, came out about twelve, with the ghoul patrol."

He smirked again when Eve lifted a brow. "Okay, subject exited premises in the company of three individuals, two male, one female. You already got their descriptions, so I'll say they were later identified by investigator as Selina Cross, Alban, and Lobar. They proceeded east, on foot, then entered multiunit housing structure owned by Selina Cross. Investigator observed light go on in top window. After weighing the options, investigator decided to enter building. Security was bypassed with minimal to average effort. Can I have another Pepsi?"

Saying nothing, Roarke took the empty tube, slipped it into the recycling slot, and fetched the boy another.

"It was really quiet inside," Jamie continued as he broke the seal. "Like dead. Dark. I had a minilight, but I didn't use it. I got upstairs, bypassed the palm plate and the cameras. The locks weren't that tricky. I figure they didn't think anybody'd have the nerve to come that far without an invite, you know? I got inside and the place was empty. I couldn't figure it. I'd seen them go in, I'd seen the light, but the place was empty. So I poked around. They've got some screwy stuff in there. And it smelled… off. Sorta like the incense and junk in a Free-Agers' shop, but different. Just off. I was in one of the bedrooms. There's this wild statue in there. This guy with a pig head and a man's body with a really monster cock at full alert."

He stopped, flushed a little as he remembered he was talking to females as well as cops. "Sorry."

"I've seen cocks at full alert before," Eve said mildly. "Go on."

"Okay. So I was just sort of looking at it, and this guy comes in. I thought, Shit, I'm busted, but he didn't see me. He got something out of a drawer, turned around, and walked out. Never even looked my way." Jamie shook his head, sipped deeply, as he re-experienced the bowel-liquefying fear. "I got to the doorway just as he was going through the wall. Secret panel," he explained with a quick grin. "I thought they were only in old videos. I gave it a couple of minutes and went in after him."

At this, Eve simply pressed her hands to her face, digging her fingers into the knots. "You went in after him."

"Yeah, my luck was holding pretty good. There's this stairway, narrow. I think it was stone. I could hear music. Not really music, more like voices, sort of humming. And that off smell was stronger. The stairway turns and there's this room. About half the size of this one, with mirrored walls. Lots of candles and more horny statues. It's smoky. Something's in the smoke, because it makes me lightheaded. I try to be careful not to breathe too much in."

He stared down at the drink in his hand. This part was hard, he realized. Harder than he'd thought it would be. "There's this raised platform, all this carving. Some sort of words, I think, but I can't make it out. Alice is lying on it. She's naked. The three of them are standing over her saying something. Singing it, I guess, but I can't understand them. They're doing things to her, to each other."

He had to swallow again. His face was bone white with high, red blotches on the cheeks. "They've got like sex toys and she's… letting them. Both of them. And she lets them, she lets them do her while that Cross bitch watches. Alice just lets them…"

Without realizing it, Eve reached out, took his hand, let him grip her fingers hard enough to rub bone.

"I couldn't stay there. I was sick, seeing that, and the smoke, the sounds. I had to get out." His eyes were wet now as he looked up. "She wouldn't have let them do that if they hadn't messed with her mind. She wasn't a slut. She wasn't."

"I know. Did you tell anyone?"

"I couldn't." He swiped the back of one hand over his face. "It would've killed my mom. I wanted to hit Alice with it, hit her hard with it. I was so pissed off. But I couldn't. I was embarrassed I'd seen her like that, I guess. My sister."

"It's all right."

"I went back to the club a couple nights later and got in."

"They let you inside?''

"I got fake ID. Places like that, they don't care if you look twelve if you got ID that says different. Security's tighter there. They've got scanners, electronic and human, every damn where. I spotted Alice with that Lobar creep. They went upstairs, all the way up to the fancy level. I couldn't get in, but I got close enough to see they'd disappeared again. So I figure there must be a room up there, too. Like the one in the apartment. I was working out a way to get in after hours, then Alice ditched them. She moved in with that Isis character for awhile, got her own place and that job. And she didn't go to the club anymore, or back to the apartment."

He let out a sigh. "I thought she'd straightened herself out, that it had gotten through what creeps they were. She talked to me a little."

"Did she tell you about the people she'd been involved with?"

"Not really. She just said she'd made a mistake, a terrible one. That she was like, atoning, cleansing, that zip brain stuff of hers. I knew she was scared, but she talked to my grandfather, so I figured things would be mellow again. Did they kill him, too?"

"There's no evidence of that. I'm not going to discuss it with you," she added when he lifted his haunted eyes to hers. "And you're not to discuss this with anyone. You're not to go near that club or that apartment again. If you do and I find out – and I will find out – I'll slap a security bracelet on you and you won't be able to burp without a scanner picking it up."

"It's my family."

"Yes, it is. And if you want to be a cop, you'd better learn that if you can't be objective, you can't do the job."

"My grandfather wouldn't have been objective," Jamie said quietly. "And now he's dead."

She had no answer for that, so she rose. "Now the problem is getting you out of here and keeping your involvement out of the media. They'll be watching the gate."

"There's always an alternative," Roarke commented. "I'll arrange it."

She had no doubt he could, and nodded. "I've got to change, get down to Central. Peabody." She flicked a meaningful look in Jamie's direction. "Stand by."

"Yes, sir."

"She means guard dog me," Jamie muttered as Eve and Roarke left the kitchen.

"Yeah." But Peabody flashed a companionable smile. "Want another Pepsi?"

"I guess."

She got up to play with the delivery slot on the fridge, helped herself to a cup of Roarke's magnificent coffee. "So how long have you wanted to be a cop?"

"For as long as I remember."

"Me, too." She settled down to talk shop.

– =O=-***-=O=-

"I'll take him out by air," Roarke told her as he and Eve cleaned up and changed in the bedroom.

"By air?"

"I've been meaning to take the minichopper out for a spin, anyway."

"This area isn't zoned for personal choppers."

Wisely, he disguised a laugh with a cough. "Say that again when you're wearing your badge."

She muttered to herself and pulled on a clean shirt. "Take him home, will you? I appreciate it. The kid's lucky to be alive."

"He's resourceful, bright, focused." Roarke smiled as he picked up the jammer, admired it. "Now, if I'd had one of these at his age… ah, the possibilities."

"You do well enough with your magic fingers."

"True." He tucked the jammer in his pocket. He was going to have one of his engineers analyze and very possibly reproduce it. "I'm afraid youth today doesn't appreciate the satisfaction of hands on. If young Jamie changes his mind about law enforcement, I think I could find a nice slot for him in my little world."

"Don't even mention it. You'll corrupt him."

Roarke picked up his slim gold wrist unit, fastened it on. "You did very well with him. Firm without being cold. A nice, authoritative, yet maternal style."

She blinked. "Huh?"

"You're good with children." He grinned as she paled. "I'd wondered."

"Get a grip. A good strong grip," she advised and strapped on her weapon harness. "I'm going to hit Central first, file my report, feed Whitney the data that's not going into it. Officially, Jamie's name isn't going to be linked with this. I'm sure, if necessary, the two of you can work out a plausible story for his mother."

"Child's play," Roarke said with tongue in cheek.

"Hmm. From my prelim, Lobar was killed at oh three thirty. That would be about an hour after we left the club. Hard to tell how long he'd been propped outside the gate, but at a guess, no more than fifteen minutes or so before Jamie happened on him. It's not likely that whoever left Lobar hanging, let's say, stuck around. But if they did, and spotted Jamie, he could be a target. I want the kid under surveillance, and until Whitney uncuffs me, I can't use a cop."

"Would you like me to put one of my trusted employees on him?"

"No, but that's what I'm going to ask you to do." She turned to the mirror, raked fingers through her hair in lieu of a comb. "I'm bringing this home, too many angles of it. I'm sorry."

He walked to her, turned her around, caught her face in his hands. "You can't separate what you do from who you are. I don't expect or want you to. What touches you, touches me. That's what I expect and what I want."

"The last case that touched me almost killed you." She wrapped her hands around his wrist, squeezed. "I need you too much. It's your own fault."

"Exactly." He bent down, kissed her. "That's what I want as well. Go to work, Lieutenant."

"I'm going." She strode to the door, paused, glanced back. "I don't want to hear from Traffic that my husband was hotdogging the skyways in his minichopper."

"You won't. I bribe too well."

It made her laugh as she headed back down to fetch Peabody and face the first media onslaught.

She'd no more than strapped into her vehicle when she heard the throaty purr of an expensive engine. Wincing only a little, she glanced east and saw the sleek little copter with its tinted one-way glass cabin and whirling silver blades rise, circle playfully – and illegally – before bulleting off.

"Wow! What a machine. Is that Roarke's? Have you been up?" Peabody craned her head to try to get a last look. "That is one rapid mother."

"Shut up, Peabody."

"I've never been up in a personal." With a wistful sigh, Peabody settled. "Makes the units Traffic use look like dog meat."

"You used to be intimidated when I told you to shut up."

"Those were the good old days." Grinning, Peabody crossed her ankles. "You handled the kid really well, Lieutenant."

Eve rolled her eyes. "I know how to interview a cooperative witness, Peabody."

"Not everybody can handle a teenager. They're brutal, and fragile. That one's seen more than anyone should."

"I know." So had she by that age, Eve remembered. Perhaps that's why she'd understood. "Prepare yourself, Peabody. The sharks are circling."

Peabody grimaced at the pack of reporters crowded outside the gate. There were minicams, recorders, and hungry looks. "Gee, I hope they get my best side."

"Tough when you're sitting on it."

"Thanks. I've been working out." Automatically, Peabody wiped off the grin and assumed a blank, professional expression. "I don't see Nadine," she murmured.

"She's around." Eve hit the remote for the gates. "Furst wouldn't miss this one." She timed it, opening the gates seconds before the nose of the car would have brushed iron. Reporters streamed forward, engulfing the car, aiming their cameras, shouting their questions. One or two were ballsy or stupid enough to step onto private property. Eve took note, switched the volume on her outside speakers to blast.

"The investigation is ongoing," she announced. "There will be an official statement at noon. Any media representative who trespasses on this property will not only be prosecuted but will be blocked from all data."

She all but slammed the gates on scrambling feet. "Where the hell are the uniforms I left on duty?"

"Probably eaten alive by now." Peabody stared through the reporter who plastered himself against her side of the windshield. "This one's kind of cute, Lieutenant. Try not to damage his face."

"His choice." She kept driving. Someone bounced off her fender and cursed. There was a slight bump, and a very loud scream.

"That's ten points for the foot," Peabody commented, secretly thrilled. "See if you can swipe that one there. The woman with the yard of legs in the green suit. That'll get you five more."

The reporter clinging to the windshield slid off as Eve juggled the wheel. "Missed her. Well, can't win them all."

"Peabody." Eve shook her head, hit the accelerator, and headed downtown. "Sometimes I worry about you."

She wanted to see Whitney first, but wasn't surprised to find Nadine waiting in ambush at the first-level interior glide at Central.

"Busy night, Dallas."

"That's right, and I'm still busy. There'll be a press release by noon."

"You can give me something now." Nadine elbowed her way onto the glide. She wasn't a big woman, but she was a sneaky one. You didn't get to be one of the top on-air reporters in the city without some quick moves. "Just a nibble, Dallas. Something I can take to the public for my ten o'clock bumper."

"Dead guy," Eve said shortly, "identification withheld until next of kin are notified."

"So you know who he was. Got any leads on who opened his throat?"

"My professional opinion would be someone with a sharp implement," Eve said dryly.

"Um-hmm." Nadine's eyes narrowed. "There's a rumor rolling around that there was a message left at the scene. And that it was a ritual killing."

Goddamn leaks. "I can't comment on that."

"Wait a minute." At the top of the glide, Nadine took Eve's arm. "You want me to hold something, you know I'll hold it. Give me something, and let me work."

Trusting the media was a dicey business, but she'd trusted Nadine before. To their mutual benefit. As a research tool, Eve knew Nadine was a finely honed instrument. "If it was a ritual killing, which is not substantiated and not for broadcast, my next step would be to gather all pertinent data on established cults and their members – registered and otherwise – in the city."

"There are all kinds of cults, Dallas."

"Then you'd better get busy." She shook her arm free before dropping one more crumb. "Funny, cult must be the root word for occult. Or maybe it's just a coincidence."

"Maybe it is." Nadine swung to the downward glide. "I'll let you know."

"That was tidy," Peabody decided.

"Let's hope it stays that way. I'm for Whitney. I want you to find out the names of every uniform that was on scene this morning. I want to have a talk about internal security with every one of them."

"Ouch."

"Damn right," Eve muttered and stalked to the elevator.

– =O=-***-=O=-

Whitney didn't make her wait. She noted as she took her seat in his office that he didn't appear to have slept any more than she the night before.

"Internal Affairs is beefing on the Wojinski matter. They're pushing for an official investigation."

"You can't hold them off."

"Not past end of shift today."

"My report should help." She took a disc out of her bag. "There is absolutely no evidence that DS Wojinsky was using illegals. There's every indication that he was running his own sting on Selina Cross. His reasons were personal, Commander, but even IAD should understand them. I have Alice's statement, recorded, and fully transcribed in the report. In my opinion, she had been drugged, and her… naivete exploited. She was used sexually. She became involved with the cult established by Selina Cross and Alban. And when she broke with them, she was threatened, and she was frightened. Eventually, she went to Frank."

"Why did she break loose?"

"She claims she witnessed the ritual slaying of a child."

"What?'' His knuckles went white as he surged up from his desk. "She witnessed a murder, reported this to Frank, and he didn't file?"

"She waited some time before telling him, Commander. There was no evidence to support her allegations. I can't substantiate them now. But I can say that Alice believed she saw the killing. And she was terrified for her life. She also felt she was responsible for the death of her grandfather. She believed, strongly, that he had been murdered because of his private investigation of Selina Cross. Her claim was that Selina Cross has expert knowledge of chemicals and essentially poisoned Frank."

"We don't have enough to prove foul play."

"Not yet. Alice was certain she would be next, and she died the same night she gave her statement to me. She also claimed Cross was a shape-shifter."

"Excuse me?"

"She believed that Cross could take other forms. A raven, for one."

"She thought Cross could become a crow and fly? Jesus, Dallas, the boys in IAD are going to love that one."

"It doesn't have to be real for her to have believed it. She was a terrified young girl, tormented by these people. I found a black feather on her windowsill the night she died – a simulated feather, and there was a threatening message on her 'link. They were tormenting her, Commander. There's no mistake there. What Frank did, he did to try to protect his family. Maybe he went about it wrong, but he was a good cop. He died a good cop. IAD isn't going to change that."

"We'll make sure they don't." He locked the disc away. "For now, this stays here."

"Feeney – "

"Not at this time, Lieutenant."

Damn if she'd be brushed off like a fly, she thought, and set her jaw, "Commander, my investigation to this point discloses absolutely no connection between DS Wojinski's private investigation and Captain Feeney. I can find no evidence that Feeney tampered with any records for Frank."

"Do you actually believe Feeney would leave evidence, Dallas?"

She kept her eyes level. "I'd know if he was involved. He's grieving for both his friend and his goddaughter, and he doesn't know anything other than the official line on either. He doesn't know, Commander, and he has a right to."

It was going to cost them, Whitney knew. All of them. But it couldn't be helped. "I can't take his personal rights into consideration, Lieutenant. Believe me, IAD won't. All data here is on need-to-know only. It's a rough spot. You'll have to handle it."

It ate a hole in her gut, but she nodded. "I'll handle it."

"What connection is this to the body left outside your home this morning?"

Left with no choice, she fell back on training and delivered data. "Robert Mathias, known as Lobar, white male, eighteen years. My report on cause of death is the throat wound, but the body was also mutilated. The victim was a member of Cross's cult. I also interviewed him last night at his place of employment. A club called The Athame, owned by Selina Cross."

"People you talk to are ending up dead very quickly, Dallas."

"He was Cross's alibi for the night Alice was killed. Hers and Alban's. He corroborated this during questioning." She opened her bag. "He wasn't killed at the scene, and he was left there in a manner designed to indicate a ritual killing." She placed one of the death stills on Whitney's desk.

"The murder weapon was likely the knife he's got stuck in his groin. It's an athame – a ritual knife. Supposedly, Wiccans dull the blade and use it only for symbolism." She took out another shot, a close-up of the note. "The message appears to indicate the murder was done by an enemy of the Church of Satan."

"Church of Satan," Whitney muttered. The death photo didn't sicken him, it tired him. He'd seen far too many. "The ultimate oxymoron. Someone took a dislike to the practices and took him out."

"The scene was set that way. It's possible, and I've got a couple of lines I can tug on that angle."

He looked up from the photo. "You're thinking Cross had a hand in this. She'd execute her own alibi."

"She'd execute her own progeny if she had any. I think she's smart," Eve continued. "And I think she's crazy. I'll be consulting with Mira on that end. But I also think she'd get a real bang out of doing this, out of rubbing it in my face. She didn't need him anymore. I had his statement."

Whitney nodded, pushed the photos back to her. "Talk to her again. And this Alban."

"Yes, sir." She put the photos away. "There's more. It's… delicate."

"What?"

"I've deleted any reference to this from the official report. Slightly altered the timing. For the record, Roarke and I were awakened by the security alarm, which was tripped when the body was placed against the perimeter wall. Off the record, we didn't discover the body initially. Jamie Lingstrom did."

"Jesus," Whitney said after a long minute. He pressed his fingers over his eyes. "How?"

Eve cleared her throat and gave a quick and concise report of everything that took place after the alarm. She concluded with what Jamie had told her at the breakfast table.

"I don't know how much of that you want to feed to IAD. Jamie's statement corroborates Alice's contention that Frank was trying to trap Cross."

"I'll filter out what I can." He continued to rub his eyes. "First his granddaughter, now his grandson."

"I think I shook him enough to keep him in line."

"Dallas, teenagers are remarkably hard to shake. I've been there."

"I do want him to have some protection, as well as surveillance. Using my own judgment, I'm arranging for this privately."

Whitney lifted a brow. "You mean Roarke's arranging it?"

Eve folded her hands. "The boy will be watched."

"We'll leave it at that." He leaned back. "A homemade, hand-held jammer, you said? One the kid jerry-rigged that managed to bypass the outer layers of the security on that fortress you live in?"

"So it would seem."

"Where is it? You didn't give it back to him."

"I'm not an idiot," she said as if she'd been slapped on the wrist. "Roarke has it." And as she completed the sentence, and the thought, her training slipped enough for her to wince.

"Roarke has it." Despite the situation, Whitney threw back his head and laughed. "Oh that's rich. You gave the wolf the key to the henhouse." He caught her narrow-eyed scowl and muffled the next chuckle. "Just trying for a little levity, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir. Ha ha. I'll get it back."

"No offense, Dallas, but if you're taking bets, I've got a hundred I'll put on Roarke. In any case, unofficially, the department appreciates his assistance and cooperation."

"You'll excuse me if I don't relay that. It'll only go to his head." Recognizing dismissal, she rose. "Commander, Frank was clean. IAD is going to confirm that. Whether his death was of natural causes or induced is going to be more difficult to establish. I could use Captain Feeney."

"You know you don't need Feeney on this, Dallas, not in an investigative sense. I appreciate your feelings, but this stays here until further notice. You might find yourself sitting in this chair one day," he said and watched her brow furrow in surprise. "Difficult decisions sit here with you. And giving unpleasant orders is every bit as frustrating as taking them. Keep me posted."

"Yes, sir." She walked out, knowing that she didn't want his chair, his rank, or his responsibilities.