Brotherhood in Death by J. D. Robb Page B

their neighbors on a crappy day? That’s just luck, and it bothers me. It’s just luck getting an injured man out of the house, into a vehicle without anybody seeing anything.”
    â€œLucky that it was crappy, gloomy daylight and not broad.”
    â€œYeah, nobody can plan that.”
    Eve got out, took another minute to study the house, its position.
    â€œIt’s really beautiful,” Peabody commented. “Old, but in a dignified, ageless sort of way. I can see why Mr. Mira wants to keep it.”
    â€œIt’s more what’s inside—I don’t mean the stuff. It’s what he remembers, what he felt, the pictures in his head. And he promised, that’s the big one. If Edward Mira knew him at all, he’d know Mr. Mira wasn’t about to break his promise.”
    â€œWait! What if this is all a ploy to get him to do that?” Running with it, Peabody loosened her scarf as they walked through the little gate. “He stages it all, and it’s Mr. Mira who’ll be contacted after he’s worried half to death.”
    â€œSign off on the sale of the house or your cousin gets it? Why would anyone buy that?”
    â€œYou said the senator needed money, right? So the fake kidnapper claims he owes him a bundle. Now sell the house so I get paid or I kill him until he’s dead.”
    Eve frowned, worked it around. “That’s actually a launching point, no shakier than . . . Seal’s compromised.”
    She held up a hand to stop Peabody, studied the police seal she’d affixed herself. “Somebody got through it and went in. Recorders on.”
    Without another word they both drew their weapons.
    Eve stepped to the door, glanced at Peabody, nodded.
    They went through, high and low, right and left.
    Eve straightened, kept her weapon at the ready as she looked up.
    Edward Mira hung from the crystal chandelier. His face was blackened from bruising, his throat gouged and smeared with dried blood. And he was naked but for a computer-generated sign that covered his torso.
    JUSTICE IS SERVED
    â€œWell, fuck.”
    â€œI guess it wasn’t a ploy.”
    â€œIf it was, it sure went wrong. Let’s clear the house, Peabody, and call this in.”

5
    They cleared the house, every step on record. While Peabody called it in, Eve located the mechanism for lowering the chandelier. Something she only knew about because she’d seen them work in her own foyer.
    â€œYou can clean it and stuff without hauling in a ladder,” she told Peabody.
    â€œHandy. Man, they messed him up good before they hanged him.”
    â€œI’d say he was alive when they hauled him up there. Gouges on the neck likely self-inflicted. Skin and blood under his nails is likely his. ME will determine that and COD.”
    As Peabody had brought in their field kits, Eve opened hers. While they sealed up, she studied the body. “Beat his face, his genitals, stripped him naked. That says personal, really pissed, and probably sexual.”
    â€œSure doesn’t read trying to score a bunch of money. One of the women he diddled with, but like you said before, getting him in and out? Probably had to have a partner.”
    Eve got out tools and gauges, first verified his identity for the record with the Identi-pad.
    â€œVictim is Mira, Edward James, age sixty-eight. Severe facial contusions and lacerations. Looks like both cheekbones are broken as well as some teeth.” She put on microgoggles. “Check TOD, Peabody. I don’t think these were caused by fists,” she said as she peered closer. “Maybe a sap, likely weighted. Same with the genitals, but there’s some . . . almost like punctures in the groin area.”
    â€œTOD oh-three-thirty-six.”
    â€œSo, worked on him for while. Bruising on the wrists, look at the pattern.” Rigor mortis had yet to pass, so she used her own wrists to demonstrate, holding them up and