The in Death Collection Books 11-15 - J. D. Robb [573]
She straightened. “Peabody, I don’t want these bodies touched. I’ll do the field exam after I talk to Cohen. Officer Trueheart, did you discharge your weapon during the course of this incident?”
“Yes, sir. I—”
“I want you to surrender that weapon to my aide, who will bag it at this time.”
There were grumblings from the two uniforms at the end of the hall, but she ignored them as she held Trueheart’s gaze. “You are not obliged to surrender your weapon without representation present. You may request a representative. I’m asking you to give your weapon to Peabody so there’s no question as to the sequence of this investigation.”
Through the shock, she saw his absolute trust in her. “Yes, sir.” When he reached down for his weapon, she put a hand on his arm.
“Since when are you a southpaw, Trueheart?”
“My right arm’s a little sore.”
“Were you injured during the course of this incident?”
“He got a couple of swings in before—”
“The individual you were obliged to draw on assaulted you in the due course of your duties?” She wanted to shake him. “Why the hell didn’t you say so?”
“It happened awfully fast, Lieutenant. He rushed me, came in swinging, and—”
“Take off your shirt.”
“Sir?”
“Lose the shirt, Trueheart. Peabody, record here.”
He blushed. God, what an innocent, Eve thought, as Trueheart unbuttoned his uniform shirt. She heard Peabody suck in a breath, but whether it was for Trueheart’s undeniably pretty chest, or the bruising that exploded over his right shoulder and mottled the arm to the elbow, she couldn’t be sure.
“He got in a couple of good swings by the look of it. I want the MTs to take a look at you. Next time you’re hurt on the job, Officer, make it known. Standby.”
Apartment 42E was in shambles. Though from what was left of the decor, Eve imagined housekeeping wasn’t a high priority of its residents. Still, it was doubtful the place was normally a minefield of broken glass, or the walls decorated with surreal paintings of blood splatters.
The woman on the gurney looked like she’d known better days as well. A bandage streaked across her left eye, and above it, below it, the skin was raw.
“She coherent?” Eve asked one of the medical technicians.
“Just. Kept her from going all the way under since we figured you’d want a word with her. Make it snappy though,” he told her. “We need to get her in. She’s got a detached cornea, shattered cheekbone, broken arm. Guy whaled on her good and proper.”
“Five minutes. Miss Cohen.” Eve stepped up, leaned down. “I’m Lieutenant Dallas. Can you tell me what happened?”
“He went crazy. I think he killed Ralph. Just went crazy.”
“Louis Cogburn?”
“Louie K., yeah.” She moaned. “Ralph was pissed. Music up so loud you couldn’t think straight. Fucking hot. Just wanted a couple of brews and a little quiet. What the hell? Louie K., he mostly plays the music loud, but this was busting our eardrums. He’s had it wailing for days.”
“What did Ralph do?” Eve prompted. “Ms. Cohen?”
“Ralph went and banged on the door, told him to cut it back. Next I knew, Louie came busting out, swinging a bat or something. Looked crazy. Blood was flying, he was screaming. I was scared, really scared, so I slammed the door and ran to the window. Called for help. I could hear him screaming out there, and these awful thumping sounds. I couldn’t hear Ralph. I kept calling for help, then he came in.”
“Who came in?”
“Louie K. Didn’t even look like Louie. Had blood all over him, and something was wrong with his eyes. He come at me, with the bat. I ran, tried to run. He was smashing everything and screaming about spikes in his head. He hit me, and I don’t remember after that. Hit me in the face and I don’t remember until the MTs started working on me.”
“Did you see or speak with the officer who responded to your call for help?”
“I didn’t see nothing but stars. Ralph’s dead, isn’t he?” A single tear slid down her cheek. “They won’t tell me, but Louie’d never have gotten past him ’less he was dead.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. Did Ralph and Louie have a history