In Death 17 - Imitation in Death

smile that showed her a flash of white, even teeth. "What did you have in mind?"
     
     
His voice suited his dress. Upper-class, she thought, with both pleasure and nostalgia. Style, culture. "Whatever you want. You're the boss."
     
     
"A private party then, somewhere... close." He glanced around, then gestured toward a narrow alley. "I'm afraid I'm a bit pressed for time right now."
     
     
The alley meant a quick bang, which was fine with her. They could get the business done, and if she played it right, she'd get herself the fee and a nice tip. More than enough for the rent and the boob job, she planned as she led the way.
     
     
"You're not from around here, right?"
     
     
"Why do you say that?"
     
     
"Don't sound like it, don't look like it." She shrugged, none of her business. "Tell me what you want, baby, and we'll get the financials out of the way."
     
     
"Oh, I want it all."
     
     
She laughed, then reached out to run a hand over his crotch. "Mmm. You sure do. You can have it all." Then I can get out of these shoes and into a nice, cold drink. She named a fee, elevating it as much as she thought possible. When he nodded, didn't blink at the inflated price, she cursed herself for not adding more.
     
     
"I need to have it up front," she told him. "Once you pay, we start having fun."
     
     
"Right. Payment' first."
     
     
Still smiling, he spun her around to face the wall, jerked her head back by the hair. He slit her throat so she couldn't scream, sliced it with one stroke with the knife he'd held under his cloak. Her mouth opened as she gaped at him, and she made a gurgling sound as she slid down the dirty wall.
     
     
"And now the fun," he said, and went to work on her.
     
     
Chapter 1
     
     
You never saw it all. No matter how many times you walked through the blood and the gore, no matter how often you looked at the horror man inflicted on man, you never saw it all.
     
     
There was always something worse, something meaner, or crazier, more vicious, more cruel. As Lieutenant Eve Dallas stood over what had once been a woman, she wondered when she would see worse than this.
     
     
Two of the uniform cops on scene were still retching at the mouth of the alley. The sound of their sickness echoed back to her. She stood where, she was, hands and boots already sealed, and waited for her own shuddering stomach to settle..
     
     
Had she seen this much blood before? It was hard to remember. It was best not to.
     
     
She crouched, opened her field kit, and took out her. W pad to run the victim's fingerprints. She couldn't avoid the blood, so she stopped thinking about it. Lifting the limp hand, she pressed the thumb to her pad.
     
     
. "Victim is female, Caucasian. The body was discovered at approximately oh three-thirty by officers responding to anonymous nine-one-one, and is herewith identified through fingerprint check as Wooton, Jacie, age forty-one, licensed companion, residing 375 Doyers. "
     
     
She took a shallow breath, then another. "Victim's throat has been cut. Spatter pattern indicates wound was inflicted while victim stood against the north-facing wall of the alley. Blood pattern and trail would indicate victim fell or was laid across alley floor by assailant or assailants who then..."
     
     
Jesus. Oh Jesus.
     
     
"Who then mutilated the victim by removing the pelvic area. Both the throat and pelvic wounds indicate the use of a sharp implement and some precision."
     
     
Despite the heat her skin prickled, cold and clammy as she took out gauges, recorded data.
     
     
"I'm sorry." Peabody, her aide, spoke from behind her. Eve didn't have to look around to know Peabody's face would still be pale and glossy from shock and nausea. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant; I couldn't maintain."
     
     
"Don't worry about it. You okay now?"
     
     
"I... Yes, sir."
     
     
Eve nodded and -continued to work. Stalwart, steady, and as dependable as the tide, Peabody had taken one look at what lay in the alley, turned sheet-white, and stumbled back toward the street at Eve's sharp order to puke elsewhere.
     
     
"I've got an ID on her. Jacie Wooton, Doyers. An LC. Do a run for me."
     
     
"I've never seen anything like this. Just never seen..."
     
     
"Get the data. Do it down there. You're in my light here."
     
     
She wasn't, Peabody knew. Her lieutenant was cutting her a break, and because her head wanted to spin again, she took it, moving toward the mouth of the alley.
     
     
She'd