“He might try to sell them or pawn them, and that’ll help you find them.” She turned to Eve, face ravaged, eyes hard. “I can look in their bedroom. I’d know if anything was gone. I can do it. Let me do it.”
“Okay. If it’s too much, we stop. You’re going to see people out there, in white protective suits. They’re looking for evidence.”
“I watch screen. I know about sweepers and such. I can do this.”
She could, and did, though her color was gray by the time they left the room. Still, she went with Eve through the rest of the house, sat and gave descriptive details on every missing item.
“Nina, I want you to know that you’re about the best witness I’ve ever dealt with.”
“You’re going to find him, stop him.”
“We’re going after him with everything we’ve got. What you did gives us more. I’m going to have an officer stay with you until your brother gets here.”
Eve stepped out, and Peabody stepped up.
“Feeney and McNab are loading up the electronics. They’ll go through all the ’links, the comps, and tablets. The killer took the hard drives, the discs, smashed the hell out of everything he left, but they’ll take what’s left, try to piece something together.”
“We need to work this. Contact Baxter and Olsen, pass the rest of the names to them.”
“Already did. I let them know the situation.”
“Good.” Eve rubbed the center of her forehead.
“You okay?”
“Headache. Sometimes it’s harder to go through this with somebody who’s holding on instead of someone who falls apart.”
Peabody pulled an energy bar out of her pocket. “Emergency food. May help.”
“That is in no way food.”
“It’s crap, but it helps.” Peabody broke it in half, held a portion out to Eve.
“Fine. Thanks. Let’s see what Morris can tell us.” As they headed out, Eve took a bite. “It’s terrible. What is it?”
“Honey Nougat Cluster Pop.”
“Now it’s somehow even worse.”
But thinking of what lay ahead, Eve choked down the rest.
16
Eve found Morris completing his Y-cut on Miko Carver, while a voice that sounded like an angel soared through the room.
Xavier Carver lay on a second slab, cleaned and prepped for autopsy.
“I’m sorry to see you again so soon.” Morris, his midnight-blue suit protected by his cloak, deftly spread Miko’s ribs.
Eve heard Peabody swallow hard, snapped, “Suck it up.”
More tolerant of the reaction, Morris gestured to the friggie tucked away near the cold drawers reserved for the dead. “Water, fizzies, and our lieutenant’s Pepsi. Have something cool. Music volume decrease to three.”
As Peabody gratefully headed to the friggie, her gaze averted from the slab, for now, the angel’s voice lowered to a loving murmur.
“I know I’m pushing it,” Eve said, “but I wanted to see what, if anything, you have before I go into Central.”
“I’ll be able to tell you more in an hour or two. My initial exam on the female confirms she was pregnant at the time of her death. Five to six weeks. The cuts along her torso are shallow, most likely inflicted by a thin, sharp blade.”
“Like the others.”
“Yes, like the others. She was raped, multiple times. Sodomized. I need to complete my examination to confirm, but I believe the sodomy was a single incident. And postmortem.”
“He sodomized her after he killed her?”
“I need to confirm, but that’s my preliminary opinion. We could consider it a blessing she had passed before that final, ugly act, but I also believe her death was slow and painful. I’ll need to confirm your on-scene evaluation of strangulation as COD, but at this point I agree with it.”
He gestured her forward. Peabody stepped up, offered Eve a tube of Pepsi.
Distracted, Eve stuck the tube in her coat pocket, leaned closer to examine the neck wounds as Morris did.
“Even without the goggles or the comp enhancement, you can see several wounds that are distinct and of varying degrees.”
“Choked her, let her revive, choked her, let her revive. Repeat.”
“Yes, until he increased the pressure and the length of time, depriving her of air, and crushed her windpipe.”
“He’s good at it.” Peabody sipped from her tube of ginger ale, bearing down on the queasiness. “Good and controlled enough not to go too far, to keep her coming back until he decided to finish it.”
“It’s part of the rape,” Eve said. “Her body convulses, she struggles for air, her eyes roll back. It’s an orgasm to him. The postmortem anal rape, that’s new. Maybe he wanted to try the new, or maybe he wanted another bump, or maybe it had something to do with the show.”
“Show?” Morris repeated.
“Whatever stage he’d set, whatever costume he’d chosen. She fought, struggled, tore her wrists up fighting the restraints. She’d have told him she was pregnant. It would be at the top of her mind. ‘Please, don’t. I’m pregnant.’ What did he think of that?”