by J. D. Robb
“Was he tall, like your husband?”
“No. Shorter than me, by far. But a lot of men are shorter than me, especially when I hit six-four in heels.”
“Build?”
“Average?” Toya posed it like a question. “I’m sorry. That’s pathetic, but I didn’t pay attention. I just wanted him to move away.”
“Okay. If any more details come to you, I want you to contact me.”
“Why is this important?” Gray asked.
Eve turned her head, gave Gemma a cool stare. Gemma just shrugged.
“You can send me out, but I know where to go to listen. Plus, I’ll get it out of Toya. I have ways of making her talk. She’s my sister,” Gemma added, reminding Eve of Tish DeSilva. “We look out for each other.”
“We believe the man responsible for the attack on the Strazzas, and two previous attacks, attended that gala. We’ve been able to discern a certain pattern to this individual’s selection of targets. The two of you fit that pattern.”
“How?” Gray spoke more steadily than she’d expected. He slid an arm around his sister, took his wife’s hand, but spoke steadily. “We need to know.”
“Wealthy married couples who live alone in single-family residences. No children. Good security that is, nonetheless, compromised. In each case, the wife has been particularly attractive. Beautiful, striking. You fit on every point.
“You should know,” Eve continued, “we’ve spoken with several others who fit this pattern, and have several more to speak to. However, to this point you’re the only ones who knew one of the other victims personally, and use the two vendors we discussed. And the only one who’s mentioned, when asked, any sort of incident or uncomfortable situation at this event.”
“What should we do?” Toya managed.
“I’m staying.” Gemma said it fiercely. “Live alone, no kids, I can cross off two of those, so I’m staying. You can’t make me go.”
“Oh, yes, I can,” her brother corrected.
“If you make me go I’ll find a way to get back. I will!”
He poked her between the eyes. “I’ll hire security. Private security. We’ll have professional security in the house, around the clock, until you find this maniac. I’ll arrange that right away.”
“That’s a good precaution. If you go out, don’t leave the house unattended. He may do test runs—may enter the empty house to get a feel for it. Let the security you hire make themselves known. They shouldn’t be subtle about it. Sorry.”
Eve pulled out her signaling communicator. “Dallas, text only,” she ordered.
Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, see the officer at 122 Morton. Reported double homicide. Male and female, possibly connected to current investigation.
“Acknowledged.” Eve got to her feet. “You’ve been helpful. If you remember anything else, or if you see or hear or even feel something that concerns you, contact me. Peabody, give them a couple cards. If she talks you into letting her stay here?” Eve gave Gemma a glance.
“I am staying.”
“Okay. Don’t be subtle about that, either. He’s a coward, he attacks from behind. He’s not going to want to try for you when you’ve got a teenager and a security guard in the house.”
When they stepped outside, Peabody glanced back. “We’ve got another.”
“We’ve got another.”
Peabody gave the house a last glance before trudging to the car. “I think they’re going to be okay. They’re forewarned, they’ll take precautions.”
And, Eve thought, there are two dead who weren’t forewarned, hadn’t had the chance to take precautions.
15
Eve pulled up to the pretty brownstone, double-parked, then engaged her On Duty light.
“They’re on the list,” Peabody said. “Ours. We were circling back this way, would have hit them after one more stop.”
“I know it.” Eve shoved out, strode through the slush, kicked through a mound of piled snow to get field kits from the back.
She asked herself a dozen times on the drive downtown: If she’d opted to go crosstown, hit the West Side first, would it have made any difference?
No point in asking, she told herself as they moved across the slippery sidewalk.
“Front steps are clear,” she noted. “Let’s find out if the occupants handled that or hired it out. The snow didn’t stop until close to midnight.”
She studied the security cam over the door—off—then the locks. “No palm pad. This is a voice recognition system. Two locks, good ones, and a swipe. Get EDD down here to go over this. Record on.”
Before she could press the buzzer, a beat droid opened the door.
“Identification, please,” he said.
Eve held up her badge so the droid, broad shoulders, nonthreatening face, could scan.
“Lieutenant, Detective.” The droid stepped back to admit them.
“Report.”
“Sir. My partner and I received instructions from Dispatch at thirteen-twenty-four to see the woman at this address. Nina Washington, identified as the housekeeper for this residence, contacted nine-one-one from this location at thirteen-twenty-three and reported two bodies she discovered in what appears to be the master bedroom on the second floor. We arrived on scene at thirteen-twenty-seven and verified this information. The deceased—one male, one female—have been unofficially identified by Nina Washington as Xavier and Miko Carver, of this address.”
“Where is the witness?”
“Sir. Ms. Washington is in the kitchen area of this residence with my partner.”
“Tag your partner, inform him Homicide is on scene. Keep the witness contained. EDD is on the way. Until such time as I clear it, no one else is to come in, go out.”
“Yes, sir.”
She sidestepped him, scanned the long, narrow entranceway. Caught the scent of … oranges.
“Does the housekeeper live in?” she asked the droid.
“No, sir. Ms. Washington states she arrived at ten this morning.”
“Ten, and the nine-one-one came in at thirteen-twenty?”
“Thirteen twenty-three to be precise, Lieutenant. That is correct.”
With a nod, Eve walked to the stairs—narrow and straight—started up.
“She comes in— Does she notice the cam’s not on? Maybe not,” Eve said. “She just comes in as usual, and starts work on the main level. You can still smell the cleaner—citrus type—and the flowers in the entrance look fresh. She might have brought them with her.”
“Does the cleaning, the polishing,” Peabody agreed.
On the second floor, they glanced in doorways. Guest room, home office, a kind of office/sitting room, another guest room. Eve noted someone had brushed a few swipes of different color paint on one of the walls.
“Thinking about redoing the room,” Peabody commented. “Testing wall colors.”
They wouldn’t pick one now, Eve thought as she turned, looking into the master directly across the hall.
Xavier Carver remained bound in a chair. His head slumped toward his bloodied chest. Blood pooled beneath the chair, soaking the soft sea green of the carpet, and streaked over the walls where his severed jugular had streamed and spattered in mad patterns.
What she could see of his face was blackened from a beating.
He wore only plain black boxers.
She took the can of Seal-It Peabody held out, coated her hands, her boots. Taking off her coat, scarf, hat, she left them in a pile outside the room.
The bed nestled in a wide nook with white pedestal tables on either side, sleek silver pendant lights spearing down from the ceiling. Hands bound, secured above her head to the fancy work of the headboard, Miko lay naked on bloodstained sheets.
The flesh of her torso showed slices where he’d cut her in random patterns, as well as discolorations from blows. Her eyes, filmed over with death, stared out of a face battered by violence. Dried blood smeared the sides of her mouth, her chin, streaked her thighs.
&
nbsp; The cord used to strangle her dug viciously into her throat.
She’d been beautiful once, Eve thought. The killer had taken her beauty as well as her life.
Was that part of his need?
“Take the male,” Eve ordered, and approached the bed.
She followed procedure, step-by-step, cleared her mind of pity, of outrage. “Female is identified as Carver, Miko, age thirty-three, of this address.”
“Male is identified as Carver, Xavier, age thirty-three, of this address.”
She left Peabody to add the details for the record, focused on adding her own. “Shallow cuts, primarily on the torso, evidence of blows, also to torso, to breasts. More violent blows to the face. Victim bit through her own lip. Lacerations and bleeding evident on the wrists around the zip ties used to bind them, the cord tied over that to secure her hands to the headboard. Further lacerations and bleeding on the ankles indicating binding at some point during the assault. Blood and bruising on the inner thighs indicate probable rape. A cord around the victim’s throat, used to strangle. Hemorrhaging in the eyes indicates strangulation, probable COD. ME to confirm.”
Eve stepped back. “Let’s turn her, Peabody.”
“He broke the vic’s fingers.” Peabody straightened, walked to Eve. “It looks like he smashed them with something heavy.”
Eve glanced back. “The last vic got loose, came at him. Break this one’s hands, he’s not going to be able to use them in a fight, if he gets loose.”
“Miserable coward bastard,” Peabody muttered as they turned Miko’s body over. “Oh hell.”
“Sodomized her,” Eve said flatly. “That’s new. No other injuries to the back.”
Eve stepped away, nodded at the red pajamas on the floor. “Pajamas. And the male is wearing boxers. He didn’t break in while they were out this time, and if they had people over, he didn’t break in and wait for them to come upstairs.”
“They’d gone to bed,” Peabody finished. “They were in bed, probably sleeping, when he broke in. He hasn’t done that before.”
“He’s trying new tricks. He’s escalating on all his elements, getting bolder. Only days between assaults now. And two deliberate murders. Not his usual rape, torture, beatings, and an in-the-moment killing. Two deliberate murders.”
She walked back to the doorway, studied the scene.
“He waits until late, until they’ve gone to bed. It’s a great night for it. Empty streets, empty sidewalks, people holed up at home. How did he get here? Couldn’t drive unless he got his hands on an official vehicle. Subway, possible. Let’s contact TA, find out how late the subways ran last night. Walk? Would it be so sweet to him he’d be willing to walk?”
“Unless he brought a change of clothes, he’d have been covered with blood when he left.”
“He’d be prepared. He came here to kill, and messily. He circumvents the alarms, the locks. Did his research. They live alone. Daytime housekeeper.
“He walks upstairs. It’s exciting, walking in the dark, in a house where people are sleeping. It really adds something … fresh. He’d take out the male first.”
She walked back to the bed, to the far side. “Whap-slap with the sap—that’s what I’d do if I didn’t have a stunner. He’s out, no threat. Does she stir? Even if she does, he’s on her. He has the knife, the cord. Bind her up while she screams. Give her a couple of slaps to show her who’s in charge.”
She moved to the male victim, lifted one of his bare feet out of the congealed blood. “Drag marks on the heels. He doesn’t have enough muscle to carry the husband to the chair, but enough to drag him, haul him into it. Bind him up. Now he gets to play.”
“He wants the husband conscious before he works on the wife,” Peabody said.
“That’s right. Wants him awake and aware for that, and before he breaks his fingers. No fun causing pain if nobody feels it. But he’s got plenty of time.”
She could see it, could see all of it.
It played through her mind while she walked to the closet.
“Check the bathroom, Peabody. Big shared closet, and a safe, open and empty in here.”
“Bathroom’s clean, Dallas. It looks like somebody took a bath. There’s bath oil, a bottle of it, by the tub, and a towel, unfolded, draped over the rack.”
Curious, Eve moved to the bath, scanned. “He wouldn’t have done that.” Eve opened the bottle, sniffed. “Very girlie. Most likely the female vic took a bath, or possibly took one with the male vic, but only one towel, no drying tube, so likely just her. Morris may be able to confirm. Pull the sweepers in. They’ll check the drains anyway. And get the morgue team in.”
She stepped back out. “Why don’t you go through the rest of the rooms up here, see if there’s anything? Then take a look at the third floor. I’ll start with the housekeeper.”
“Back stairs down the hall probably lead to the kitchen.”
Peabody checked her ’link. “McNab. He and Feeney are on the way.”
With a nod, Eve took the back stairs.
The kitchen area had been modernized. The working kitchen itself spread bright and shining clean, a bowl of glossy red apples piled in a white bowl on the main counter. The majority of space flowed for entertaining. A long dining table painted a soft, faded blue was lined with chairs covered in a cheerful floral print. Another table, tall and narrow, served as a bar. Its deeper blue surface held fancy decanters and bottles. Shelves behind it displayed stemware.
A female officer sat at the table with a middle-aged woman. The woman’s eyes, swollen and red-rimmed, still leaked tears.
“I’m going to be close by, Nina,” the uniform said as she patted the woman’s hand and rose. “Lieutenant.”
“Thank you, Officer. If you and your partner would begin the canvass, I’ll speak to Ms. Washington.”
“Yes, sir.”
Eve sat. “Ms. Washington, I’m Lieutenant Dallas. I know this is difficult. Can you tell me how long you’ve been employed here?”
“In this house, five years. For my Miko? I worked for her mother since Miko was ten, and I came to work for Miko when she and Xavier moved into this house.”
“You were close.”
“I have two children. Miko was like my third. And Xavier. I loved him, too. Who would…” She shook her head, pressed her fingers to her eyes. “I know there’s evil, I know. But this? They were so young and so good, so happy. So happy. Miko was pregnant.”
Eve sat back, felt her stomach twist. “You’re sure?”
“Only a few weeks. She told her mother, and they told Xavier’s parents, and me. Only last week. Only last week, and we were so happy.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Washington. I’m very sorry for your loss. And I know it’s painful, but I need to ask you some questions.”
“I know. I told Officer Aaron some. She said I’d have to tell you, and more.”
“Did you work here yesterday?”
“No.”
Nina drew air through her nose, brushed both hands back over the hair she wore in a single thick braid. After knuckling a tear away, she clasped her hands together on the table.
“No, I didn’t come in yesterday. Miko said the snow was coming, and it was supposed to be very bad. She said I should stay home, and everything was fine. She was at her work. She helps at a homeless shelter. She does good work. She said she was leaving early, and Xavier was coming home early, too. She said they were going to come home and stay home.”
“Is that the last you spoke to her?”
“It was in the morning, about eight, and she texted me in the afternoon, when she got home, and Xavier got home. Just so I knew. I think it was around three-thirty. She said not to come today early, and not to come at all unless it was clear enough.” Nina’s voice wobbled again. “She took care of me, too.”
“So you didn’t come here today until ten.”
“I usually come at nine. Sometimes Miko’s here until later, and sometimes she goes to the shelter to help earlier.
I thought they’d gone to work. I thought…”
“So you started your work.”
“Yes. I cleaned off the steps outside. It was only a couple inches, and I thought Xavier cleaned them off before they went to bed, but it snowed more. I cleaned them off so it wouldn’t be slippery when they got home from work, and then I started in here. I picked up the apples and some flowers on my way here, so I washed the apples, and put the flowers in the vase. She likes fresh flowers. I cleaned the kitchen, and put away the dishes from the dishwasher.
“I’d have gone upstairs sooner, because I do laundry on Mondays and Fridays, but I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t here to do the laundry on Monday, but I wasn’t thinking, so I didn’t go upstairs to get it.”
“Okay. You’re doing fine.”
Nina pressed her lips together. “I cleaned the dining area, and the sitting room. Scrubbed the powder room, and changed the guest towels, and all the things I do. I—I had an apple and some yogurt, and sat there, over there at the counter and watched a show I like on my break. And all that time, they were—”
“Ms. Washington.”
“Nina. Everyone calls me Nina.”
“Nina, you were taking care of them. Let me ask you if, when you were cleaning down here, did you notice anything missing or out of place?”
“Miko’s Daum dragon. It’s not in the living area, but sometimes she puts it upstairs. And in the sitting room, the old nested wooden boxes Xavier’s grandfather made years and years ago. But I didn’t think—”
“That’s okay.”
“I turned the droid on to vacuum down here, and I thought, all of a sudden: For God’s sake, the laundry. I was annoyed with myself, went right upstairs. I always change their sheets on Mondays and Fridays and do the laundry. I walked right into their bedroom, and— I saw them. I saw Xavier and my Miko.”
She began to weep again, fast, fat tears.
“Did you go into the room, Nina, did you touch anything?”
“A few steps in, because I wasn’t thinking, and I saw them and I screamed. I screamed and screamed, and I fell down. I just fell. I couldn’t stand up at first. I couldn’t get up again. There was so much blood, so much, and I could see they were gone. I could see I couldn’t save them. I had to crawl away because I couldn’t stand up. I was going to be sick, but I wouldn’t be sick.”