Desperation in Death (In Death #55)(12)

“Abduction, not runaway. Everything points to abduction. No ransom demand, and the family would have scraped together a decent amount. She was worth more than that to somebody else, somebody who kept her in French manicures.”

“Yes, I noted that. They also kept her healthy. Body, hair, skin. No signs of illegals abuse. And she’s a virgin. No sexual penetration, no rape, no signs of sexual assault.”

Didn’t take her for personal use then, Eve concluded.

“Virgins are usually worth more. What did she eat last?”

“Now, there’s something interesting. She had a green salad with carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers, chickpeas, a portion of grilled white fish and brown rice, sautéed spinach—very healthy—and a mixed berry tart.”

“Dessert?”

“A healthy, rounded meal—no alcohol in her system. Herbal tea, unsweetened. However, there are traces of vomit in her esophagus and in the back of her throat. Some scrapes on the back of her throat.”

Morris lifted two fingers, mimed sticking them into his mouth.

“She stuck her fingers down her throat.” Eve moved closer to the body. “Puked up some dinner, faked being sick. She had a plan.”

“Since I see no signs she binged and purged on a regular or habitual basis, I agree.”

“Distract whoever’s holding her long enough to make a break for it. She got outside, but he caught up with her.”

“I’ll mention her underwear.”

“Her underwear?”

“Her clothes are, certainly, conservative, but age appropriate. Under them, the bra and panties? More mature, sexier. I sent them to Harvo.”

And the Queen of Hair and Fiber would tell Eve everything there was to know about them.

“She also has the clothes, and a sample of Mina’s hair. You’ll have the tox report shortly, but as I said, there’s no signs of illegals use or alcohol use—not habitual.

“She was healthy, had good muscle tone, excellent dental hygiene—some minor straightening there about two years ago. No broken bones in her short life. What, I wonder, might she have done if allowed to live the rest of it?”

“Can’t know, but we’re damn well going to find out who took the rest of it from her. Did you measure her—height? Peabody said the pants she was wearing—and they’re going to turn out to be the ones she wore at the snatch—were a little short. Her ID said five-four.”

“She added a half inch since then. How long ago was she taken?”

“Last November.”

“Not surprising she’d gain that half inch.”

“Okay. Good eye, Peabody. Would she have added elsewhere?”

“Developed more? Very likely at her age, yes. She was just beginning to bloom.”

“Appreciate it. The father’s going to let me know when they get in. They’re going to stay at the Hanover. I’ll give you a heads-up.”

“We’ll take care of them. And her. I’m going to wish you good hunting, both of you.” He looked down at Mina again. “Such a sweet face.”

As they left, Eve heard him order the music up again.

“Let’s hit the lab. We may be able to give Dickhead a shove on the tox and the blood.”

“Got a bribe ready?”

Since she knew how it worked, Eve rolled her shoulders instead of her eyes. “It’s baseball season. I can toss out a couple of box seats. We hit him first,” she continued as they headed down the tunnel. “He got so damn pissy when we went straight to Harvo before, and I want the blood and tox reports.”

“And the underwear,” Peabody added. “What Morris said fits in with the porn theory, especially since she hadn’t been raped or had sex.”

“There are lots of ways to rape without penetrating.”

Understanding her lieutenant had firsthand knowledge, Peabody fell silent.

Through the buzz of activity and sea of white coats in the lab, Eve spotted the dome of Dick Berenski’s—chief lab tech’s—head.

It moved right, paused, moved left as he used his rolling chair to cover his work counter. Maybe she’d have preferred to go straight to Harvo, but antagonizing Berenski—he’d earned the name Dickhead—wouldn’t get her the reports.

He might have sensed her, as his gaze flicked up, then narrowed on her as she and Peabody moved through the maze toward his workstation.

He’d shaved the molting caterpillar off his top lip so at least she didn’t have to test her willpower by not looking at it. His spidery fingers continued to work as he curled that naked top lip.

“You know how long ago we got those samples? How many cases are ahead of yours?”

“The victim’s parents are on their way into New York. I’m checking in with you before we see if Harvo’s got anything on hair and fiber. The victim’s clothes are an angle we need to pursue.”

“Harvo’s got a load of her own. You’re not the only cops who want results yester-fucking-day.”

“Right now, to my knowledge, we’re the only cops who have a thirteen-year-old victim who was abducted walking home from school, brought to New York, and held for over seven months before she got a jagged plank of wood through her chest.”

She started to bring up the box seats, but wanted to vent a little first.