Page 46 of Fury In Death

“Yeah, slick. I’m on it.”

Eve walked to towering double entrance doors, scanned the discreet palm plate, retinal scan, swipe slot. Before she could ring the bell, the right-side door opened.

“Lieutenant, Detectives. Officer Morrison. My partner Officer Taney’s with the victim’s cohab, who made the nine-one-one.”

Eve stepped into a—yes—lofty foyer with a wide, curved staircase leading up to an open second floor with glass railings.

A rolling weekender and a briefcase sat at the base of it with a red topcoat tossed over the weekender.

The black marble floor had veinings of white. Overhead an enormous black iron chandelier had teardrop drips of white lights.

On one wall a silvery waterfall slid down into a narrow pool. Chairs so clear they were almost invisible flanked it. A large brass gong stood on the opposing wall beside the opening to a long, wide living area. Inside, much of the furniture looked as though someone had built it out of black and red boxes.

A fireplace, no more than a foot high and easily six feet long, recessed in the wall, simmered with red-and-blue flames.

“It’s a house,” Morrison said, shrugged.

“Yeah. What have you got?”

“Joleen Everly, of this residence, called in the nine-one-one at twelve-twelve. She returned home from a business trip, found the body in the lounge area at the rear of the house. No visible signs of break-in, and she went through security protocol to enter. LT, she said she mostly recognized him because he’s wearing the ring she gave him for his birthday a couple years ago.”

Morrison puffed out his cheeks. “He took one hell of a beating.”

“Okay. Where’s the cohab?”

“Upstairs sitting room with my partner. She’s holding on, but barely.”

“Detective Callendar will locate and check security. Detective Peabody and I will take the body. We’ll speak to Ms. Everly shortly.”

“I can show you the security hub, Detective. We asked Everly for the location. You head back, Lieutenant, you won’t miss the body.”

“Show me the way, Officer,” Callendar said cheerfully.

“A wing shoots off left behind the stairs.”

They started back, with Callendar peeling off.

No, Eve thought, you couldn’t miss the body.

You could easily follow the trails of blood and viscera to where it lay, broken and crumpled, on the black marble floor beside a long gel sectional. On the back, the color of Roarke’s favored oatmeal, blood streaked alongside a single smeared handprint.

Peabody swallowed carefully. “Call me crazy, but I’m going to say we have a connection.”

“Yeah, I’d say we do. Record on.”

Chapter Seven

Eve opened her field kit, crouched beside the body. Like Chu, the victim’s hand lay mangled and broken. She pressed a thumb to her pad.

“Victim is officially identified as Ezra Dent of this address. Victim is a seventy-one-year-old Black male. Six-two, two hundred pounds. His left wrist has been broken, both hands appear to have suffered multiple breaks. There is what appears to be a heel mark across the knuckles of the left hand.”

She got out her microgoggles, leaned down. “Heel mark, the assailant stomped on the hand, but there’s additional bruising, possible defensive wounds.

“I think you got a couple hits in, Ezra. Peabody, run the vic while I’m doing this.”

“Already am. Dr. Ezra Dent worked for Banner-Wyst from 2018, semiretired as a chief lab tech in 2059, and now works part-time for that company as a consultant.”

“And there we are. Keep running him. Victim suffered multiple breaks, left arm, looks like the right knee’s dislocated or broken, ME to confirm. Severe blood loss, facial damage, well, it’s fucking intense. Nose is smashed, both cheekbones, lips, multiple splits.”