Page 30 of Passions in Death
He lifted his long, dark eyes to Eve, and sighed.
“And so she’ll be the center of a memorial instead of a bride.”
“She trusted the wrong person. Don’t know who yet, but it killed her. Piano wire?”
“I’d say yes. A pity something designed for beauty and enjoyment would be used to end a life.”
“People are fucked up. They’ll find a way to kill with pretty much anything.”
“I once had a victim on my table killed with a binky.”
“A what?”
“A baby’s pacifier.”
Even then, it took her a minute to identify what she thought of as a plug.
“Oh, yeah, yeah, I remember that. It wasn’t my case, but I remember hearing about it. Father went nuts, forced it down the mother’s throat so she choked on it. Why do they call it a binky?”
“I have no idea. Where’s our Peabody?”
“Running down a few things. Never going to be able to trace piano wire.”
“Wire used with considerable force, and as your on-scene speculated, from behind, drawing upward, then crossed in the back.”
“Some sort of handles or grips on the ends.”
“For this kind of force, yes. The skin under her nails is hers. The lab has the broken nails from the sweepers, but the trace under those will likely be hers. She dug at her own throat to try to drag the wire away. As deeply as it cut in, she wouldn’t have fought for long.”
No, Eve thought, studying the body. Not for long.
“No other defensive wounds?”
“None. The contusions here, here? From a blow to a solid surface—the door, as you’ve already concluded. And these? From the fall when she went down.”
“He took the murder weapon with him. Stick it in a bag along with her ’link, the jewelry he took off her, any cash she had, stuff it in your pocket, walk out. Easy to dispose of in a recycler as you go. Smarter to do that a bit at a time, using multiples.
“Did he keep a trophy?” she wondered. “We’ll find out.”
“There are no indications of sexual abuse ante- or postmortem.”
“No, the killer didn’t care about that. This was personal, but not sexual. A straight kill, with a half-assed attempt to make it look like a robbery.”
“Half-assed indeed,” Morris agreed. “She’d consumed a considerable amount of alcohol—it was a party, after all. Her reflexes would have been slowed. She’d had some bar snacks. Pretzels, some nachos, and some pasta primavera earlier, about seven, given the TOD.”
He walked over to wash his sealed hands.
“Otherwise, I find no signs of alcohol abuse, illegals use. The tox screen will confirm that. A healthy young woman, no body or face work, good muscle tone, and a small heart tattoo on her left buttocks.”
He lifted his hands. “She can’t tell me more.”
“Then it’ll have to be enough. Thanks. I’ll tell Shauna and the victim’s family to contact you about coming in.”
“Good hunting,” he called as she went out.
Spotting her, Peabody rose, but continued to talk on her ’link. “No, I appreciate the time, and I’d maybe contact Angie to see how Shauna’s doing.”
As Peabody finished up, Eve pushed open the outside door.
