“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.