Purity in Death (In Death #15)(3)

The two uniforms who flanked the entrance eyed her, then exchanged a look. She was brass, and the one who could well put one of their own rank's balls in the blender.

She could feel the chill as she approached.

"Cop shouldn't get hassled by cops for doing the job," one of them muttered.

Eve paused in midstride and stared him down.

He saw rank in the form of a long, leanly built woman with eyes of gilded brown that were as flat and expressionless as a snake's as they met his. Her hair, short and choppy, was nearly the same color and framed a narrow face offset by a wide mouth that was now firmed into one thin line. There was a shallow dent in a chin that looked like it could hold its own against a fist.

Under her stare he felt himself shrink.

"Cop shouldn't slap at a cop for doing hers," she said coldly. "You got a problem with me, Officer, wait until I do that job. Then mouth off."

She moved into the shoe box lobby, punched a finger on the up button of the single elevator. She was already steaming, but it had little to do with the oppressive heat. "What is it with some uniforms that they want to bite your throat when you're rank?"

"It's just nerves, Dallas," Peabody replied as they stepped onto the elevator. "Most of the uniforms out of Central know Trueheart, and you gotta like him. A uniform terminates on his own like this, Testing's going to be brutal."

"Testing's brutal anyway. The best we can do for him is to keep this clean and ordered. He's already screwed up by tagging me before he called it in."

"Is he going to take heat for that? You're the one who pulled him out of the sidewalk scooper detail and into Central last winter. Internal ought to understand-"

"IAB isn't big on understanding. So let's hope it doesn't go there." She stepped off the elevator. Studied the scene.

He'd been smart enough, cop enough, she noted with some relief, not to disturb the bodies. Two men lay sprawled in the corridor, one of them face down in a pool of congealing blood.

The other was face up, staring with some surprise at the ceiling. Through an open doorway beside the bodies she could hear the sounds of weeping and groaning.

The door across was also open. She noted several fresh holes and dents in the hallway walls, splinters of wallboard, splatters of blood. And what had once been a baseball bat was now a broken club, covered with blood and brain matter.

Straight as a soldier, pale as a ghost, Trueheart stood at the doorway. His eyes still held the glassy edge of shock.

"Lieutenant."

"Hold it together, Trueheart. Record on, Peabody." Eve crouched down to examine the two bodies. The bloodied one was big and beefy, the kind of mixed fat and muscle build that could usually plow through walls if annoyed enough. The back of his skull looked like an egg that had been cracked with a brick.

The second body wore only a pair of grayed Jockey shorts. His thin, boney frame showed no wounds, no bruising, no damage. Thin trickles of blood had seeped out of his ears, his nostrils.

"Officer Trueheart, do we have identification on these individuals?"

"Sir. The, um, initial victim has been identified as Ralph Wooster, who resided in apartment 42E. The man I-" He broke off as Eve's head whipped up, as her eyes drilled into his.

"And the second individual?"

Trueheart wet his lips. "The second individual is identified as Louis K. Cogburn of apartment 43F."

"And who is currently wailing inside apartment 42E?"

"Suzanne Cohen, cohabitation partner of Ralph Wooster. She called for aid out the window of said apartment. Louis Cogburn was assaulting her with what appeared to be a club or bat when I arrived on-scene. At that time-"

He broke off again when Eve held up a finger. "Preliminary examination of victims indicates a mixed-race male-mid-thirties, approximately two hundred and thirty pounds, approximately six foot one-has suffered severe trauma to head, face, and body. A bat, apparently wooden, and marked with blood and brain matter would appear to be the assault weapon. The second male, also mid-thirties, Caucasian, approximately one hundred and thirty pounds, approximately five foot eight, is identified as the assailant. Cause of death as yet undetermined. Second vic bled from ears and nose. There is no visual trauma or wound."

She straightened. "Peabody, I don't want these bodies touched. I'll do the field exam after I talk to Cohen. Officer Trueheart, did you discharge your weapon during the course of this incident?"

"Yes, sir. I-"

"I want you to surrender that weapon to my aide, who will bag it at this time."

There were grumblings from the two uniforms at the end of the hall, but she ignored them as she held Trueheart's gaze. "You are not obliged to surrender your weapon without representation present. You may request a representative. I'm asking you to give your weapon to Peabody so there's no question as to the sequence of this investigation."

Through the shock, she saw his absolute trust in her. "Yes, sir." When he reached down for his weapon, she put a hand on his arm.

"Since when are you a southpaw, Trueheart?"

"My right arm's a little sore."

"Were you injured during the course of this incident?"

"He got a couple of swings in before-"

"The individual you were obliged to draw on assaulted you in the due course of your duties?" She wanted to shake him. "Why the hell didn't you say so?"