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“Bed and bath, small sitting room to the left. Master suite—living area, powder room, dressing area, bed and bath to the right.”
“I’ll take the right.”
The place felt empty, she thought. It felt dead. The metallic reek of the blood, the sickly sweet overlay of death mixed with candle wax smeared the air. And something more, that burning and a kind of . . . pulsing, she thought. Spent energy, the shadows of it still beating.
Together they cleared the second level, then the third.
She found evidence of sexual frenzy, of food, of drink, of murder. “The sweepers are going to be hours in here, if not days.”
Roarke studied the glasses, plates, half-eaten food. “What kind of people do murder, and leave so much of themselves behind?”
“The kind who think they’re beyond or above the law. The worst kind. I need to seal this place off, all three levels, until crime scene gets here. Who was registered in this suite?”
“The Asant Group.” On the steps, he stared down at the body posed on the pentagram. “Jumble the letters, and you’ve got—”
“Satan. God, I hate this kind of shit. People want to worship the devil, be my guest. Hell, they can have horns surgically implanted on their forehead. But then they’ve just got to slice somebody up for their human sacrifice and drag me into it.”
“Damned cheeky of them.”
“I’ll say.”
“Naked Jack didn’t do this on his own.”
“Nope. Let’s go see if his memory’s a little clearer.”
The uniforms had taken over. Eve directed them to take names and contact info from the guests, then clear them out.
She sat on the floor with Jackson. “I need a sample of the blood you’re wearing, Jack.”
“There’s so much of it.” His body jerked every few seconds, as if in surprise. “It’s not mine.”
“No.” She took several samples—face, arms, chest, back, feet. “What were you doing in 606?”
“What?”
“Suite 606. You were in there.”
“I don’t know. Was I?”
“Who’s the woman?”
“There were a lot of women, weren’t there?” Again he shuddered in pain. “Were you there? Do you know what happened?”
“Look at me, goddamn it.” Her voice was like a slap, shocked him back to her. “There’s a woman in 606. Her throat’s slashed.”
“Did I do it? Did I hurt somebody?” He pressed his forehead to his knees. “My head. My head. Somebody’s screaming in my head.”
“Do you belong to the Asant Group?”
“I don’t know. What is it? I don’t know. Who are you? What’s happening?”
With a shake of her head, Eve rose as the med-techs she’d ordered stepped in. “I want him examined. I want a blood sample. I need to know what he’s on. When you’re done, he’ll be transported to Cop Central.”
“Whose blood is it?”
“You’re too late for her.” She walked back into the living area to leave them to it just as her partner came in the main door.
Peabody’s hair was pulled back in a stubby little tail that left her square face unframed and seemed to enlarge her brown eyes. She wore baggy dark pants and a white tee with a red jacket tossed over it. She carried a field kit.
