Ceremony In Death

CHAPTER FIVE

Sleep helped. So did the hot shower and the food Roarke ordered up. Eve shoveled eggs into her mouth as she studied the data he'd unearthed on-screen.

"More like a diary than an investigative log," she decided. "Lots of personal comments, and obviously he was worried about Alice. 'I'm not sure how deeply they've influenced her mind, or hurt her heart.' He was thinking like a grandfather, not like a cop. You got this off his home unit?"

"Yes. He had it coded and passkeyed. I suspect he didn't want his wife stumbling across it."

"If he had it coded, how did you access?"

Roarke took a cigarette from a carved box, studied it. "You don't really want me to explain that, do you? Lieutenant?"

"No." Eve forked up more eggs. "Guess not. Still, his personal thoughts and worries aren't going to be a lot of help. I need to know what he found out, and how far his private investigation went before he died."

"There's more." Roarke scrolled over dates. "There, he talks about tailing Selina Cross, and lists some of her… associates."

"But there's nothing there. He suspects she's dealing illegals. He believes she's holding unacceptable ceremonies in her club and perhaps her home. He observes suspicious characters coming and going, but he bases it all on emotion. No facts. Frank had been off the streets too long." Eve set her plate aside and rose. "If he didn't want to involve cops, why the hell didn't he at least hire a PI to handle the leg-work? What's this?"

Frowning, she stepped closer to the screen.

I think she made me. Can't be sure, but it's almost as though she's leading me along now. I'm going to have to make a move soon. Alice is terrified, begging me to stay away from Cross, and from her. The poor kid spends too much time with that Isis character. Isis may be a harmless weirdo, but she can't be a good influence on Alice. I've told Sally I'm working late. Tonight, I'm going in. Cross spends Thursday nights at the club. The apartment should be empty. If I can get inside and find anything, anything at all to prove Alice saw a child murdered, I can report to Whitney anonymously. She's going to pay for what she and her filthy lover did to my little girl. One way or the other, she's going to pay.

"Christ, nighttime breaking and entering, illegal search and seizure." Frustrated, Eve dragged both hands through her hair. "What the hell was he thinking? He had to know that anything he found would get tossed out in court. He'd never nail them this way."

"I have a feeling he wasn't worried about court, Eve. He wanted justice."

"And now he's dead, isn't he? And so's Alice. Where's the rest?"

Roarke scrolled to the last entry.

Security's too tight on the building, couldn't get through it. I've been off the streets too damn long. I may have to tag someone to help me on this after all. I'm going to see that witch pays if it's the last thing I do.

"That's all on this – that entry was logged on the night before he died. There may be more, under a different code."

So, he hadn't made her pay, Eve thought. And he hadn't had time to get help. Not enough time, she thought again with twin surges of relief and sorrow. The entries went a long way toward clearing both Frank and Feeney.

"But you don't think so. You don't think there's anything else."

"No, I don't. There's the timing, of course. And he wasn't that clever with electronics," Roarke explained. "It was child's play to find this. Still, we'll look. It'll take some time to break through if there's anything there. And it'll have to be later. I have several meetings this morning."

She turned to him. Odd, she realized, she'd forgotten for a moment he wasn't working with her. His business and the direction of it was in a much different sphere from hers. "So many billions, so little time."

"How true. But I should be able to fiddle a bit more this evening."

She knew he hadn't so much as glanced at the stock reports or taken the morning calls that never failed to come in daily. "I'm taking up a lot of your time."

"You are, indeed." He came around the console, leaned back against it. "And the payment will be your time, Lieutenant. A day or two away when we can both manage it." Then his smile faded. He took her hand, ran his thumb over the carving on her wedding ring. "Eve, I don't like to interfere with your work, but I'll ask you to be particularly careful in this matter."

"A good cop's always careful."

"No," Roarke said, looking into her eyes, "she's not. She's courageous, she's smart, she's driven, but she's not always careful."

"Don't worry, I've dealt with worse than Selina Cross." She kissed him lightly. "I've got to go in, check on some reports. I'll try to let you know if I'm going to be late."

"Do that," he murmured, and watched her go.

She was wrong, he mused. He doubted very much if she'd ever dealt with worse than Selina Cross. And he had no intention of letting her deal with it alone. Moving to the 'link, Roarke called his assistant and arranged to have all his off-planet and out-of-town trips for the next month canceled.

He intended to stay very close to home. And his wife.

– =O=-***-=O=-

"No drugs," Eve stated as she looked over the toxicology report on Alice. "No alcohol. She wasn't under the influence. But you heard her talking to someone who wasn't there, and she runs out into the path of an oncoming cab. She's worked herself up into a state of terror, then was triggered by the chanting on the phone. They knew how to get to her, how to manipulate her."

"It's not illegal to chant over a 'link."

"No." Eve considered. "But is it illegal to threaten to harm over a public transmitter."

"That's reaching," Peabody returned. "And it's only a misdemeanor."

"It's a start. If we manage to tie the transmission to Selina Cross, we can hassle her. In any case, I think it's time we met. How about a little trip to Hell, Peabody?"

"I've been dying to go."

"Who isn't?" But before she could rise, Feeney burst into her office. His eyes were shadowed, his face unshaven.

"Why are you primary on Alice's case? A traffic accident. Why the hell is a homicide lieutenant handling a traffic fatality?"

"Feeney – "

"She was my goddaughter. You didn't even call me. I heard it on the goddamn news."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. Sit down, Feeney."

He jerked away when she touched his arm. "I don't need to sit down. I want answers, Dallas. I want some fucking answers."

"Peabody," Eve murmured, and waited until her aide had gone out and closed the door. "I am sorry, Feeney, I didn't know you were her godfather. I spoke to her mother and her brother, and simply assumed they would let the rest of the family know."

"Brenda's under sedation," Feeney tossed out. "What the hell do you expect? She lost her father and her daughter within days of each other. Jamie's only sixteen. By the time he called a doctor and saw to his mother, got a hold of Sally, I'd already heard it on-screen. Jesus, Jesus, she was just a kid."

He turned away, pulled at his hair. "I used to give her piggyback rides, sneak her candy."

This was what it was like to lose someone you loved, she thought. And was grateful she loved so few. "Please sit down, Feeney. You shouldn't have come in today."

"I said I don't need to sit down." His voice leveled as he turned back to study her. "I want an answer, Dallas. Why are you on Alice's accident?"

She couldn't afford to hesitate, couldn't afford not to lie. "Peabody was a witness," she began, grateful she could give him that much. "She was on a free evening, and she'd been to a club. She saw the accident. It shook her, Feeney, and she called me. It was knee-jerk, I guess. I couldn't be sure what had happened, so I told her to relay to Dispatch, to secure the scene, and I responded. Since I had, and I had all the data, I notified next of kin. I figured it would be easier on the family if I handled it." She moved her shoulders, bitterly ashamed at using old friends. "I thought it was the least I could do, for Frank."

He never took his eyes off her face. "Is that all of it?"

"What else is there? Listen, I just got the tox report. She wasn't using, Feeney. She wasn't drunk. Maybe she was still upset about Frank, or something else. I don't know. Could be she didn't even see the damn cab. It was a lousy night, fog, rain."

"The bastard was speeding, wasn't he?"

"No." She couldn't give him anyone to blame, couldn't offer even that prickly comfort. "He was within the limit. His record's clean, and so was the on-site drug and alcohol. Feeney, she bolted out in front of him, and there was nothing he could do. I want you to understand that. I talked with the driver myself, and I investigated the scene. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's."

It had to be someone's, he thought. He couldn't lose two people back to back for no reason. "I want to talk to Peabody."

"Give her a little time, will you?" Layers of guilt added onto the burden she already carried. "It really wrecked her. I'd really like to keep her focused on something else until she settles with it."

He drew a deep breath, shuddered it out. Beneath his tearing grief was gratitude that someone he trusted would care for his godchild. "You'll close it then, personally? And give me all the data?"

"I'll close it, Feeney. I promise you."

He nodded, rubbed his hands over his face. "Okay. I'm sorry I jumped you."

"It's all right. It doesn't matter." She hesitated, then put her hand on his arm, squeezed lightly. "Go home, Feeney. You don't want to be here today."

"I guess I will." He put a hand on the door. "She was a sweetheart, Dallas," he said quietly. "My God, I don't want to go to another funeral."

When he left, Eve sank into her chair. Misery and guilt and anger twisted around her throat like barbs. She rose again, grabbed her bag. She was, she told herself, in the perfect mood to meet Selina Cross.

– =O=-***-=O=-

"How do you want to play it?" Peabody asked as they pulled up in front of an elegant old building downtown.

"Straight. I want her to know Alice talked to me, and that I suspect her of harassment, dealing, and conspiracy to murder. If she's got any brains, she'll know I don't have anything solid. But I'll give her something to think about."

Eve stepped out of the car, ran her gaze over the building with its carved glass windows and grinning gargoyles. "She lives here, she's not hurting financially. We're going to have to find out just where she gets her money. I want everything on record, Peabody, and keep your eyes open. I want your impressions."

"I'll give you one right now." Peabody clamped her recorder onto her uniform jacket, but kept her eyes on the topmost window of the building, a wide, round glass intricately carved. "That's another inverted pentagram. Satanic symbol. And those gargoyles don't look friendly." She smiled wanly. "You ask me, they look hungry."

"Impressions, Peabody. Try to keep the fantasies down to a minimum." Eve approached the security screen.

"Please state your name and your business."

"Lieutenant Eve Dallas and aide, NYPSD." She held up her badge to be scanned. "To see Selina Cross."

"Are you expected?"

"Oh, I don't think she'll be surprised."

"One moment."

While she waited, Eve studied the street. There was plenty of pedestrian and vehicular traffic, she noted. But most of those who walked used the other side of the street, and many of those eyed her and the building warily.

Oddly, there wasn't a single glida grill or street hawker in sight.

"You are cleared to enter, Lieutenant. Please proceed to elevator one. It is already programmed."

"Fine." Eve looked up, caught the shadow of movement behind the topmost glass. "Look official, Peabody," she murmured as they approached the heavily grilled front doors. "We're under observation."

The grills slid back, locks snicked open. The light on a recessed security panel blinked from red to green. "A lot of hardware for an apartment building," Peabody commented, and ignoring the fluttering in her stomach, stepped in behind Eve.

Like a viewing parlor, the lobby area was heavily into red. A two-headed serpent slithered over the bloodred carpet, the gold threads of its eyes glinted as it watched a black-robed figure slice a curved knife over the throat of a white goat.

"Lovely art." Eve lifted a brow as Peabody carefully picked her way around the snake. "Wool doesn't bite."

"You can't be too careful." She glanced back as they stepped to the elevator. "I really hate snakes. My brother used to catch them out in the woods and chase me with them. Always had a phobia."

The ride up was smooth and fast, but it gave Eve enough time to detect yet another security camera in the small, black-mirrored car.

The doors opened into a spacious foyer with floors of black marble. Twin red velvet settees flanked an archway and boasted carved arms of snarling wolves. A floral arrangement speared out of a pot shaped like a boar's head.

"Wolfbane," Peabody said quietly, "belladonna, foxglove, skullcap, peyote." She shrugged at Eve's considering look. "My mother's an amateur botanist. I can tell you that's not your usual flower arrangement."

"But the usual is so tedious, isn't it?"

They got their first face-to-face look at Selina Cross exactly as she wanted to be seen. Flanked by the archway in a snug black dress that brushed the floor, her feet bare with the toenails painted a violent red, she posed. And smiled.

Her skin was vampire white, the slash of red over her full lips glossy as fresh blood. Her eyes glittered green and feline in a narrow, undoubtedly witchlike face that wasn't beautiful, but was eerily compelling. Her hair fell, black against black, from that rigid center part, to her waist.

The hand she gestured with held rings on every finger and her thumb. A silver chain was attached to each and twisted into an intricate mesh over the back of her hand.

"Lieutenant Dallas and Officer Peabody, isn't it? What interesting visitors on such a dull day. Will you come in… to my parlor?"

"Are you alone, Ms. Cross? It would simplify this if we could speak with Mr. Alban as well."

"Oh, what a shame." She turned, silks whispering, and slipped through the arch. "Alban's busy this morning. Sit down." She gestured again, encompassing a generous room crowded with furniture. Every seat boasted the heads or claws or beaks of some predator. "Can I offer you something?"

"We'll skip the refreshments." Considering it apt, Eve chose a chair with the arms of a hound.

"Not even coffee? That is your drink, isn't it?" Then she shrugged, slicked a fingertip over the pentagram above her eyebrow. "But suit yourself." With that same studied skill, she lowered to a curved settee that stood on cloven feet and draped her long arms over the back. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Alice Lingstrom was killed early this morning."

"Yes, I know." She continued to smile pleasantly, as though discussing the nice run of weather. "I could tell you I witnessed the… accident through my scrying mirror, but I doubt you'd believe that. Of course, I'm not one to disdain technology and often watch the news and other forms of entertainment on-screen. The information's been public for hours."

"You knew her."

"Of course; she was a pupil of mine for a time. A dissatisfactory one as it turned out. Alice complained to you about my tutelage." It wasn't formed as a question, but she waited, as if for an answer.

"If you mean she reported to me that she was drugged, sexually abused, and was a witness to an atrocity, then yes, she complained."

"Drugs, sex, and atrocities." Selina let out a low, purring laugh. "What an imagination our little Alice had. A shame she couldn't use it to broaden her vision. How is your imagination, Lieutenant Dallas?" She flicked the hand gloved with mesh. In the small marble fireplace, flames burst to life.

Peabody jolted, didn't manage to muffle a yelp, but neither woman acknowledged her. They continued to stare, unblinking at each other.

"Or may I call you Eve?"

"No. You can call me Lieutenant Dallas. It's a little warm for a fire, don't you think? And a bit early in the day for parlor tricks."

"I like it warm. You have excellent nerves, Lieutenant."

"I also have low tolerance for grifters and dealers and child killers."

"Am I all of that?" Selina tapped her sharp red nails on the back of the settee, her only outward sign of annoyance in Eve's lack of response. "Prove it."

"I will. Where were you last night between the hours of one and three a.m.?"

"I was here, in my ritual room, with Alban and a young initiate we call Lobar. We were engaged in a private sexual ceremony from midnight until nearly dawn. Lobar is young and… enthusiastic."

"I'll want to talk to them both."

"You can contact Lobar any evening between eight and eleven at our club. As for Alban, I don't keep his schedule, but he is generally here or at the club most nights. Unless you believe in magic, Lieutenant, you're wasting your time. I could hardly have been here, fucking two very entertaining men, and out luring poor Alice to her death."

"Is that what you consider yourself, a magician?" Eve glanced toward the still burning fire with a mild sneer. "That's nothing more than trickery and distraction of the eye. You can be licensed to juggle on the streets for two thousand credits a year."

Selina's muscles quivered as she sat forward. Her eyes were burning now, as the fire did. "I am a high priestess of the dark lord. Our numbers are legion, and I have powers that would make you weep."

"I don't cry easily, Ms. Cross." Ah, a temper, Eve thought with satisfaction. And easily ruffled pride. "You're not dealing with an impressionable eighteen-year-old girl now, or her frightened grandfather. Which one of your legion called Alice last night and played a tape of chanting threats?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. And you're beginning to bore me."

"The black feather on the windowsill was a nice touch. Or simulated feather, I should say, but she wouldn't have known that. Are you into droid pets, Ms. Cross?"

Idly, Selina lifted a hand, skimmed it through then down her hair. "I don't care for… pets at all."

"No? No cats and ravens?"

"How predictable that would be."

"Alice believed you were a shape-shifter," Eve said and watched as Selina smiled. "Care to give us a demonstration of that little talent?"

Selina's nails began to tap again. Eve's tone was as insulting as a backhanded slap. "I'm not here to entertain you. Or to be mocked by your small mind."

"Is that what you call it? Were you entertaining Alice with cats and birds and threatening chants over her 'link? How could she feel safe in her own home? Was she such a threat to you?"

"She was nothing to me but an unfortunate failure."

"You were seen selling illegals to Frank Wojinski."

The abrupt switch had Selina blinking. When her lips curved now, the smile didn't reach her eyes. "If that were true, we wouldn't be having this discussion here in my home, but in Interview. I'm an herbalist, again licensed, and I often sell or trade perfectly legal substances."

"Do you grow your herbs here?"

"As a matter of fact, I do, and distill my potions and medications."

"I'd like to see them. Why don't you show me your work area?"

"You'll need a warrant for that, and we both know you haven't cause for one."

"You're right. I guess that's why Frank didn't bother with a warrant." Eve rose slowly, spoke softly. "You knew he was onto you, but did you suspect he might get in here, inside? You didn't see that in your magic ball, did you?" Eve said when Selina's breath shortened and thickened. "What would you think if I told you he was in your house, and he documented what he saw, and what he found."

"You have nothing. Nothing." Selina sprang to her feet. "He was an aging man with slow wits and bad reflexes. I made him for a cop the first time he tried to tail me. He was never in my home. He told you nothing when he was alive, and he can't tell you anything now."

"No? Don't you believe in talking to the dead, Ms. Cross? I make my living at it."

"And do you think I don't recognize smoke and mirrors, Lieutenant?" Her spectacular breasts strained against the material of her dress as she struggled to even her breathing. "Alice was a foolish girl who believed she could flirt with dark forces, then run back to her pathetic white magic and tidy little family. She paid the price for her ignorance and her cowardice. But not at my hand. I have nothing more to say to you."

"That'll do for now. Peabody?" She started toward the archway. "Your fire's going out, Ms. Cross," she said mildly. "Pretty soon you're going to have nothing but a mess of ashes."

Selina stood where she was, shaking with rage. When the door closed and security engaged, she balled her hands into fists and screamed with temper.

A panel on the wall slid open. The man who stepped out was tall and golden. His chest gleamed and rippled with muscle. The tattoo over his heart was of a horned goat. He wore only an open black robe carelessly belted at the waist with silver cord.

"Alban." Selina ran to him, threw her arms around him.

"There, my love." His voice was deep, soothing. On the hand that stroked her hair was a large silver ring carved with an inverted pentagram. "You mustn't unbalance your chakras."

"Fuck my chakras." She was weeping now, wildly, pounding on him like a child in a blind tantrum. "I hate her. I hate her. She has to be punished."

With a sigh, he let her go to storm the room, cursing, smashing crockery. He knew the temper would pass more quickly if he stood back and let it purge.

"I want her dead, Alban. Dead. I want her to suffer agonies, to scream for mercy, to bleed and writhe and bleed. She insulted me. She challenged me. She all but laughed in my face."

"She doesn't believe, Selina. She has no vision."

Exhausted as always after a fit of temper, she collapsed on the settee. "Cops. I've hated them all my life."

"I know." He picked up a tall, slim bottle, poured her some thick, cloudy liquid. "We'll have to be careful with her. She's very high-profile." He passed her a chalice. "But we'll think of something, won't we?"

"Of course we will." She smiled again, sipped slowly at the brew. "Something very special. The master would want something… inventive in her case." Now she laughed, full-throated, head thrown back. The police had been the bane of her existence – until she'd discovered a higher power. "We'll make a believer out of her, won't we, Alban?"

"She'll believe."

She drank deeply now, felt the lovely haze coat her tangled emotions. And let the chalice drop. "Come here, and take me." Eyes glittering, she slid down. "Force me."

And when he covered her body with his, she turned her head, bared her teeth, and dug them into his shoulder to draw blood.

"Hurt me," she demanded.

"With pleasure." he replied.

And when they lay apart, their violent passion sated, he lay quiet beside her. She would revive now, he knew. She would cool and she would calm, and she would think.

"We should perform a ceremony tonight. Call together the entire coven for a Black Mass. We need power, Alban. She isn't weak, and she wants to destroy us."

"She won't." With affection now, he stroked her cheek. "She can't. After all, she's only a cop with no past and a limited future. But you're right, of course, we'll call the coven. We'll perform the rite. And, I think, we'll provide Lieutenant Dallas with a distraction – or two. She won't have the time or inclination to worry overmuch about little Alice for long."

Fresh arousal rippled through her, a dark wave that flooded into her eyes. "Who dies?"

"My love." He lifted her, speared her, sighed when her muscles clamped viciously around him. "You have only to choose."

– =O=-***-=O=-

"You really pissed her off." Peabody struggled to ignore the light sweat of fear that dried on her skin as Eve drove away from the building.

"That was the idea. Now that I know control isn't her strong point, I'll be sure to piss her off again. She's all ego," Eve decided. "Imagine, thinking we'd fall for a second-rate trick like the fire."

"Yeah." Peabody managed a sickly smile. "Imagine." Eve tucked her tongue in her cheek and decided against ragging on her aide. "Since we're into witches, let's swing by and check out this Isis at Spirit Quest." She slid her eyes right. Well, maybe she'd rag just a little. "You can probably buy a talisman or some herbs," she said solemnly. "You know, to ward off evil."

Peabody shifted in her seat. Feeling foolish wasn't nearly as bad as worrying about being cursed. "Don't think I won't."

"After we deal with Isis, we can grab a pizza sub – with plenty of garlic."

"Garlic's for vampires."

"Oh. We can have Roarke get us a couple of his antique guns. With silver bullets."

"Werewolves, Dallas." Amused at both of them now, Peabody rolled her eyes. "A lot of good you're going to do if we have to defend ourselves against witchcraft."

"What does it to witches, then?"

"I don't know," Peabody admitted. "But I'm damn sure going to find out."