J. Robb - Ceremony In Death

"Taking religion, particularly religions the masses don't wish to acknowledge, into court won't be easy."

"I don't care about easy. The people behind this cult are dirty. And I believe they have killed four people in the last two weeks."

"Four." Mira paused, set the cup down. "The body that was left near your home. The details in the media were sketchy. It's connected?"

"Yeah. He was an initiate, and he had his throat slit by an athame. It was left in him, stuck in his groin with a note that condemned Satanism. He was strapped to an inverted pentagram."

"Mutilation and murder." Mira pursed her lips. "If it was Wiccans, it's very much out of character. Very much against their creed."

"People do things out of character and against their creeds all the time," Eve said impatiently. "But at this time, I suspect a member or members of his own cult. Another man was killed last night with an athame. We held it from the morning reports, but it'll be all over the media within a couple of hours. I was on scene, chasing him down. I didn't run fast enough."

"He was killed quickly, without ritual? With a police officer in pursuit?".Mira shook her head. "A desperate or arrogant move. If this was committed by the same people, it shows a growing boldness."

"And maybe a taste for it. Blood becomes addictive. I want to know where the weaknesses are in the kind of personality who runs a cult like this. I've got a female, long yellow sheet involving illegal sex and drug trafficking. Bisexual. She heads up the club, lives well. Her companion is a well-built male who caters to her. She likes to show off," Eve added, remembering the fire trick. "She claims to be clairvoyant. She's edgy, with a slippery temper."

"Pride would likely be the first weakness. If she's in a position of power and authority, she would likely take disrespect badly. Is she clairvoyant?"

"Are you serious?"

"Eve." Mira sighed lightly. "Psychic abilities exist, and always have. Studies have established that."

"Yeah, yeah." Eve waved a hand in dismissal. "The Kijinsky Institute, for one. I've got a detailed report on the white witch from there. They claim she's off the charts."

"And you don't agree with the Kijinsky Institute?"

"Crystal balls and palm reading? You're a scientist."

"Yes, I am, and as such, I accept that science is fluid. It changes as we learn more about the universe and what inhabits it. Many well-respected scientists believe that we're born with what we can term this sixth sense, or a heightened sense, if you will. Some develop it, some block it. Most of us retain at least some level. We'd call it instinct, hunches, intuition. You rely on that yourself."

"I rely on evidence, on facts."

"You have hunches, Eve. And your intuition is a finely crafted tool. And Roarke." She smiled when Eve's brows drew together. "A man doesn't rise so high so young without a strong instinct for making the right move at the right time. Magic, if you want to use a more romantic term, exists."

"You're telling me you believe in mind reading and spell casting?"

"I can intuit what's going through your mind right now." Mira chuckled, finished her tea. "Mira, you're thinking, is full of shit."

Eve's lips curved in a reluctant smile of her own. "Close enough."

"Let me say this, since I believe it's part of what you came here for. Witchcraft, black and white, has existed since the dawn of humanity. And where there is power, there is benefit, and there is abuse. That, too, is the nature of humanity. We can't, through all our scientific and technical skill, destroy one without damaging the other. Power requires tending, as do beliefs, so we have our ceremonies and our rituals. We need the structure, the comfort, and yes, the mystery of them."

"I don't have any problem with ceremonies and rituals, Dr. Mira. Unless they cross the line of the law."

"I would agree. But the law can also be fluid. It changes, adapts."

"Murder stays murder. Whether it's accomplished with a stone spear or a laser blast." Her eyes were dark and fierce. "Or whether it's done with smoke and mirrors. I'll find the perpetrator, and no magic in the world is going to stop me."

"No." A small, niggling fear – what might have been called a hunch – knotted in Mira's gut. "I would agree with that as well. You're not without power, Eve, and you'll match yours against this." She folded her hands. "I can provide you with a more detailed analysis on both Satanism and Wicca, if it might help."

"I like to know what I'm dealing with. I'd appreciate it. Can you give me a profile of a typical member of both cults?"

"There isn't a typical member, any more than there are typical members of the Catholic faith or of Buddhism, but I can generalize certain personality types who are often attracted to the occult. The Wiccan the young woman went to, is she a suspect?''

"She's not the prime, but she's a suspect. Revenge is a strong motive, and if Satanists keep ending up with a ritual knife in vital organs, I won't overlook revenge." Unable to resist, Eve ran her tongue over her teeth. "But I suppose she'd be more likely to put a curse on them."

"Check the nails and hair of your victims, or of any subsequent ones. If a curse is involved, there should be signs of recent snippings."

"Yeah? I'll do that." Eve rose. "I appreciate the help."

"I'll get you a report by tomorrow."

"Great." She started out, paused. "You seem to know a lot about all of this. Is it the kind of thing you study for psychiatry?"

"To some extent, but I have a more personal interest and studied fairly extensively." Her lips curved. "My daughter is Wiccan."

Eve's jaw dropped. "Oh." What the hell did she say now? "Well. I guess that explains it." Uncomfortable, she dug her hands into her pockets. "Around here?"

"No, she lives in New Orleans. She finds it less restrictive there. I may be a bit unobjective on the matter, Eve, under the circumstances, but I think you'll find it's a lovely faith, very earthy and generous."

"Sure." Eve edged for the door. "I'm going to observe a meeting tomorrow night."

"You'll have to let me know what you think. And if you have questions I'm unable to answer, I'm sure my daughter would be happy to speak with you."

"I'll let you know." She headed to the elevator, blowing out a long breath. Mira's daughter was a witch, for Christ's sake, she thought. That was a hell of a capper.

– =O=-***-=O=-

She headed back to Central with the intention of rounding up Peabody, then heading to Wineburg's townhouse. She wanted to get a look at his lifestyle, his logs, and his personal records. She had a feeling a drone like him would have kept some private list of names and places.

The sweepers had already been through, routinely, and had turned up nothing of particular interest. But she could get lucky.

She passed Peabody in the bullpen as she swung through. "My vehicle, fifteen minutes. I want to check my messages, make a couple of calls."

"Yes, sir. Lieutenant – "

"Later," Eve said shortly, hurrying by and missing Peabody's wince.

The reason for it was waiting in her office.

"Feeney?" She tugged her jacket off, tossed it on a chair. "You decide to head to Mexico? You're going to need to call Roarke for the details. He should be – ''

She broke off when Feeney stood up, walked over, and shut her door. It had only taken one look at his face to know.

"You lied to me." There was a quaver in his voice that came as much from hurt as anger. But his eyes were flat and cold. "You fucking lied to me. I trusted you. You've been investigating Frank behind my back. Over his own dead body."

There was no point in denying, less in asking how he'd found out. She'd known he would. "There was going to be an internal investigation. Whitney wanted me to clear him, and that's what I've done."