Ceremony in Death - J. D. Robb [111]
“It had to be done.” She slid her leg over the body until she was kneeling beside it, like a mourner over a grave. “Don’t you recognize me?”
“Yeah.” Even through the mask of blood, Eve had made the face. And she’d remembered the voice, the sweetness of it. “Mirium, right? First-degree witch. Now, drop the fucking knife and kiss the floor. Hands behind you.”
“All right.” Obligingly, Mirium set the knife aside, barely glancing at it when Eve trapped it under her heel, sent it skidding across the room well out of reach. “He told me to be quick. In and out. I lost track of time.”
Eve tugged her restraints from her rear pocket, snapped them in place over Mirium’s wrists. “He?”
“Chas. He said I could do this one all by myself, but to be fast.” She let out a sigh. “I guess I wasn’t fast enough.”
With her mouth thin, Eve looked down at Louis Trivane. No, she thought I wasn’t fast enough. “You copy that, Peabody?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Pick up Charles Forte for questioning. Do it personally, and take two uniforms for backup. Don’t approach him alone.”
“Affirmative. Do you have the situation under control there, Lieutenant?”
Eve stepped back from the blood running in a rivulet toward her boots. “Yeah,” she said. “I’ve got it.”
She showered and changed before the interviews. The ten minutes it took was necessary. She’d all but bathed in Louis Trivane’s blood before she’d released his body to the ME. If anyone in the lockers noticed the elegant little flower on her ass, there was no comment.
The buzz on the state of this particular crime scene had already swarmed through the station.
“I’m taking Mirium first,” Eve told Feeney as she studied the dainty woman through the one-way glass.
“You could take a break, Dallas. Word is, it was pretty rough over there this morning.”
“You always think you’ve seen it all,” she murmured. “But you never do. There’s always something else.” She blew out a breath. “I want to do it now. I want to close this.”
“Okay. Duet or solo?”
“Solo. She’s going to talk. She’s on something…” Eve shook her head. “Maybe she’s just plain crazy, but I think she’s using. I’m going to get her to sign for a chemi-scan. The PA doesn’t like confessions given under the influence.”
“I’ll order one up.”
“Thanks.” She moved past him, walked into the room. Mirium’s face had been washed clean of blood. She wore a baggy disposable shift in police station beige. And still managed to look like a young, eager fairy.
Eve set the recorder, entered standard, then sat. “You know I’ve got you tagged, Mirium, so we don’t have to take that dance. You murdered Louis Trivane.”
“Yes.”
“What are you on?”
“On?”
“Doesn’t look like straight Zeus, you’re too mellow. Will you agree to a drug scan?”
“I don’t want to.” Her pretty mouth pouted; her dark eyes sulked. “Maybe later I’ll change my mind.” She pursed her lips and plucked at the thin skirt of the shift. “Can I get some of my own clothes? This thing’s itchy, and it offends the eye.”
“Yeah, we’re real worried about that right now. Why did you kill Louis Trivane?”
“He was evil. Chas said so.”
“By Chas you’re referring to Charles Forte.”
“Yes, but no one calls him Charles. It’s just Chas.”
“And Chas told you Louis was evil. Did he ask you to kill Louis?”
“He said I could. Other times I just got to watch. But this time I got to do it myself. There was a lot of blood.” She lifted a hand, studied it carefully. “Gone now.”
“What other times, Mirium?”
“Oh, other times.” She moved her shoulders. “Blood purifies.”
“Did you assist or witness other murders?”
“Sure. Death is a transition. I got to do this one. It was a very powerful act. I cut the demon out of him. Demons exist, and we fight them.”
“By killing the people they inhabit.”
“Yes. He said you were smart.” Mirium beamed at her out of slanted black eyes. “But you’ll never touch him. He’s too far removed from your law.”
“Let’s go back to Louis. Tell me about it.”
“Well, I have