“That says female killer.”
“I’ve seen plenty of those stupid shoes on guys’ feet, but, yeah, this reads female to me. And sexual motives. Going to kick your balls till they fall off, you fucker. That’s what it says to me.
“And they sodomized him.”
Peabody’s shoulders hunched up. “What?”
“You didn’t look at him from the back. His anus is torn, bloody. They used something to sodomize him. It’s very sexually motivated. It’s personal, and it’s planned out. Bringing him back here where they probably intended to do it all in the first place.”
“But Mr. Mira came in.”
“They had a place to take him, and the transportation. Maybe that was always backup, maybe they always intended to haul him off, haul him back, and hang him.”
She sat back on her heels. “I bet they waited to hoist him up, waited until he was coming to, waited until he could be aware, could know and feel. Then they pushed that button, let him struggle as he went up, watched him choke, watched him tear at his own throat. You don’t go this personal and not want him to feel death, not want to watch it happen.”
“But do you go that vicious over ending an affair? Do you think someone could be that pissed about being dumped?”
“Sure. Of course, that means she’s batshit crazy, but there’s no lack of batshit crazy in the world. It would have to mean whoever helped her is equally batshit.”
Eve got to her feet, closed her eyes a moment to help herself see it.
“Okay. Yesterday they conned the vic into coming here, talking about selling the house he couldn’t sell without Mr. Mira’s approval, which he wasn’t going to get. He lets them in. Maybe the batshit crazy ex—if so—has hid the crazy and hooks him up with this Realtor. Or maybe she comes as a surprise at his door. One way or the other, they get him back to the study.”
She moved around the body, a few paces down the foyer.
“No restraints—or Mr. Mira doesn’t think so, ME will verify—so they have a weapon on him. One holds it on him, the other smacks him around. Mr. Mira comes in, calls out, walks down. They don’t use the weapon on him, are careful to keep out of sight until they can knock him out.”
She paced as she worked it through because there were variables. The pictures changed depending on how she juggled them in.
Dissatisfied, she started again.
“Back up, consider the timing. When the vic first arrived, when Mr. Mira came in. There’s a solid gap of time.”
“You said they’d started on the vic. That Mr. Mira saw he was injured.”
“Yeah, but . . . They walked around with the vic some first. Black eye, bloody lip when this is your endgame? They’d barely gotten started, so they walked around, didn’t force him back to the study, that was just part of the tour, the place they jumped him.”
To satisfy herself, Peabody walked back, glancing in rooms, stopped at the study. And she could see it, too.
“So if he knew one of them, and he had to because it’s really personal, he wasn’t worried about it.”
“Exactly. She didn’t pose a threat to him. Fast-forward to Mr. Mira unconscious on the study floor. Completely batshit finishes him off, so not completely batshit. They decide to get the vic out, take him somewhere they can work on him. One of them knows enough to take the security hard drive.”
Following, Peabody walked back. “Not completely batshit, and not in total panic mode.”
“That’s right. They have an agenda, a plan, and they hold it together, follow through.”
“How do they get him out? Counting on the weather to mask the abduction, okay,” Peabody continued. “But how do they get him to go with them?”
“Maybe they stun him—light stun, just enough to unbalance him. Or drug him. Morris will look for it. They get him into a vehicle. Then they’ve got to do it all again on the other end. Get him out of the vehicle and into wherever they’re going to torture him.
“He’s going to have to tell us some of it. Whether he was stunned, tranq’d, just intimidated in and out, out and in. Morris will find some of the answers.”
She looked around. “I don’t think it was about this house. The house was their ploy, and they used it to get him where they could take him. Hanging him here, they wanted him found, but they wanted some impact.”
“‘Justice is served,’” Peabody read. “Could be someone he sent up, or about someone he didn’t. And the woman, you know, vamped him into a relationship to get close to him, to get intel, to become someone who didn’t worry him.”
“Maybe so, and we’ll have to dig there. If it’s about someone he sent up, or didn’t, it was about rape. On some level it’s about rape.”
“Because they raped him.”
“Somebody does this to another human being and calls it justice? It’s about vengeance, and vengeance this sexual is about sex. So rape’s going to be a factor. At least that’s how it reads for me right now.”
She glanced over at the knock on the door. “Probably the sweepers or the dead wagon. Go ahead, let them in. And let’s get the uniforms started on a canvass. Anybody who saw a vehicle near the house, noticed lights on last night, with another hit on yesterday between sixteen and eighteen hundred, just to cover it.”
She looked back down at Edward Mira. She doubted very much if she’d have liked him in life. But in death, he was hers.
She pulled out her ’link, walked back toward the study as the morgue team filed in. After blowing out a breath, she contacted Mira.
“Eve.” Mira barely blinked, and gave Eve no chance to speak at all. “Edward’s dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, please. Tell me where you are, what happened.”
“In the house on Spring, and I’m sorry about that, too. I can’t officially determine COD. Morris will—”
“Eve.”
Hell, Eve thought. “His face and genitals were severely beaten. He was sodomized.”
“Ah, dear God.”
“Ligature marks on his wrists are consistent, to my eye, with him being restrained vertically—arms over his head. I believe he was likely still alive before he was hanged from the ceiling light in the entrance foyer. He had a comp-generated sign around his neck reading ‘Justice Is Served.’”
“All right.” With her eyes closed, Mira rubbed her fingers over the middle of her forehead. “It’s very personal, sexual—”
“I’m not asking for a profile, Dr. Mira, not right now. Take a minute. I’m not sure what you want to tell Mr. Mira.”
Mira opened her eyes. “I’ll tell him what you tell me. Of course.”
“Okay. I’m going to need to talk to him again. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” There was a snap in the words. Mira held up a hand, visibly regouped. “Don’t apologize,” she said again, calmly now. “Both Dennis and I want you to do everything you have to do, everything you can do to find who did this. Do you want him to come to Central?”
“No, don’t do that. I’ll go to him. I have to inform next of kin, then I’ll go by and talk to him before I go in. Officially, I’m not going to be able to consult with you on this.”
“Of course not, the conflict of interest. I’m not thinking straight yet.”
“But unofficially I’m going to want your help with the profile. Later,” she added. “Go home. You’re going to want to be with him when I interview him. I’m going to contact Whitney, go by the victim’s residence and speak to his wife. That’ll give you time to go home, to tell Mr. Mira before I get there.”
“Yes, you’re right. I’ll leave here in a few minutes.”
“One last thing. I’m going to leak this to Nadine Furst.”
“Oh,” Mira said, on a kind of sigh.
“The media’s going to know about this fast. I’m going to leak it to her so she can get out in front of it. You’re going to want to screen any incomings, because once this hits, the media’s going to try to talk to you and Mr. Mira. You need a statement.”
“I know what to do. I’ll take care of that end. Please do what you have to do.”
“I’ll speak to you within ninety minutes.”