“Yeah, tell Peabody. Once you’ve done that, I can have one of the cops drive you where you need to go.”
“If you need me to stay—”
“There’s nothing more you can do here. I’ll be in touch.”
“I’d like to finish giving her Last Rites. I started, but . . . She’s wearing a crucifix around her neck.”
She debated. He’d already had his hands all over the body, and his clothes were stained, as hers were, with the old woman’s blood. “Okay. You can do that while I start on her. Try to keep contact to a minimum.”
“Your hand’s bleeding a little.”
“She dug in pretty hard with her nails. It’s just a couple scratches.”
Lopez knelt at the woman’s head while Eve got gauges and tools out of her kit.
“Victim is Caucasian or possibly mixed race female of undetermined origin, age approximately ninety. Before expiring, she gave her name as Gizi. Multiple stab wounds,” Eve continued, “chest, torso, arms. Looks like defensive wounds on the arms, the hands. She didn’t just stand there and take it.”
“She should have died at home, in her bed, surrounded by her children, grandchildren. I’m sorry,” Lopez said when Eve glanced up. “I interrupted your record.”
“Doesn’t matter. And you’re right.”
“That’s the difference between death and murder.”
“It’s the big one. Do her clothes look homemade to you?” As she asked, Eve turned up the hem on the long skirt with its wide stripes of color. “This looks handmade to me, and carefully done. She’s wearing sandals—sturdy ones with some miles on them. Got a tattoo, inside left ankle. Peacock feathers? I think they’re peacock feathers.”
“She’s wearing a wedding ring. Sorry,” Lopez said again.
“Yeah, wedding ring, or in any case a plain gold band, the cross pendant along with a second pendant, starburst pattern with a pale blue center stone, gold earrings. No bag, no purse, but if it were a violent mugging, why not take the jewelry?”
She slid her sealed hand into the pocket on the side of the skirt, closed her fingers over a little bag. It was snowy white, felt like silk, and tied precisely with silver cord in three knots.
She knew what it was even before she untied it and examined the contents. She’d seen this sort of thing before. “Woo-woo,” she said to Lopez.
“What?”
“Magic stuff. Witchcraft or whatever. We got herbs, little crystals. I’d say she hedged her bets. Amulet and crucifix—and a spell deal in her pocket. Didn’t help her.”
Though she’d already noted time of death, she used her gauge to confirm. “Damn it, this thing must be broken. It’s given me TOD at just past thirteen hundred. She died right here in front of us at sixteen-forty-two.”
“Her skin’s cold,” Lopez murmured.
“We watched her die.” Eve pushed to her feet, turning as Peabody jogged up, Morris in her wake.
“This wasn’t on the party schedule,” Peabody said as she looked at the body.
“I bet it wasn’t on hers either.” Eve took the weapon and harness she’d asked Peabody to bring, and after strapping it on covered it with the jacket her partner held out.
She sat on the curb, changed her skids for her boots.
“You need to get a statement from Father Lopez so we can spring him. Have one of the uniforms drive him back when you’re done. You didn’t have to come,” she said to Morris. “I notified your people.”
“I called them off. I’m right here, after all.”
“Actually, I can use the head guy. My gauge is wonky. I recorded TOD as the damn TOD, since she died in front of me. But my gauge is putting it almost four hours earlier. Cause is pretty clear, but you might find something else. If you can take over on the body, I want to get on this blood trail, find the kill spot.”
“Go ahead.”
She followed the blood west.