In Death 05 - Ceremony in Death

data. "Tenth and Seventh, right down the goddamn street. Probably a public 'link. Fuckers. She was heading right for them."
    "There wasn't anyone there." But Peabody was watching Eve's face now, and the fury that fired in her eyes. "Even with the fog, the rain, I would have seen someone if they'd been laying for her. There wasn't anything there but a cat."
    Eve's heart took a bad jump. "A what?"
    "Just a cat. I caught a glimpse of a cat, but there was no one on the street."
    "A cat." Eve walked to the window. Suddenly, she felt the need for a good gulp of air. There, on the sill, she saw the long, black feather. "And a bird," she murmured. She took out tweezers, held the feather up to the light. "We've still got the occasional crow in New York. A crow's the same thing as a raven, isn't it?"
    "More or less. I think."
    "Bag it," Eve ordered. "I want it analyzed." She rubbed her fingers over her eyes as if to push away fatigue. "Next of kin would be Brenda Wojinski, mother. Run that for an address."
    "Yes, sir." Peabody took out her PPC, then simply held it while shame washed over her. "Lieutenant, I'd like to apologize for my earlier comment and my behavior."
    Eve took the disc from the 'link, sealed it herself. "I don't recall any comment, Peabody, or any unsatisfactory behavior." She gave Peabody a level look. "While the recorder is still engaged, do another scan of the apartment."
    Understanding, Peabody inclined her head. "I'm aware the recorder is still engaged, Lieutenant. I want this on the record. I was insubordinate and out of line both professionally and personally."
    Damn stiff-necked idiot, Eve thought and bit back an oath. "There was no insubordination in my opinion or in my recollection, Officer."
    "Dallas." Peabody loosed a sigh. "I damn well was. I was shaky and having a hard time dealing with the situation. It's one thing to see a body after it's done, and another to see a woman get tossed ten feet in the air and land on the pavement. She was under my watch."
    "I was rough on you."
    "Yes, sir, you were. And you needed to be. I thought that because you were able to maintain, you were able to do your job, it meant you didn't care. I was wrong, and I'm sorry."
    "Acknowledged. Now, put this on record, Peabody. You followed orders, you followed procedure. You were not at fault for what happened tonight. You could not have prevented it. Now, put it aside so we can find out why she's dead."
    Eve thought that a cop's daughter knew when another cop knocked on the door at five in the morning, it was with news of the worst kind. She saw, the minute Brenda recognized her, that she was right.
    "Oh God. Oh God. Mama?"
    "No, it's not your mother, Ms. Wojinski." There was only one way, Eve knew, and that was fast. "It's Alice. May we come in?"
    "Alice?" She blinked glazed eyes, propped a hand on the door for balance. "Alice?"
    "I think we should go inside." As gently as possible, Eve took her arm, stepped through the door. "Let's go in and sit down."
    "Alice?" she said again. Grief cracked the glaze over her eyes. Tears poured through. "Oh no, not my Alice. Not my baby."
    Brenda swayed, would have slid to the floor, but Eve tightened her grip and headed quickly for the nearest seat. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for your loss, Ms. Wojinski. There was an accident early this morning, and Alice was killed."
    "An accident? No, you've made a mistake. It was someone else. It wasn't Alice." She clutched at Eve, flooded eyes pleading. "You can't be sure it was my Alice."
    "It was. I'm sorry."
    She collapsed then, burying her face in her hands, pressing her hands to her knees so her body was balled in a defensive shield.
    "I could make her some tea," Peabody murmured.
    "Yeah, go." It was the part of the job that made Eve feel the most helpless, the most inadequate. There was no solution for fresh grief. "Is there someone I can call for you? Do you want me to contact your mother? Your brother?"
    "Mama. Oh God, Alice. How will we bear it?"
    There was no answer for that, Eve thought. Yet they would. Life demanded it. "I can give you a soother, or contact your doctor, if you'd prefer."
    "Mom?"
    As Brenda continued to rock, Eve looked over. The boy stood in the doorway, blinking sleepy, confused eyes. His hair was tousled from sleep and he wore grubby sweatpants with holes at the knees.
    Alice's brother, Eve remembered. She'd forgotten.
    Then he focused on Eve, his eyes suddenly alert, and much too adult. "What's wrong?" he demanded.