Chapter 30
Death turns you grey before any other color. Oh, a body that loses a lot of blood will look white or bluish. But once a body starts to decay, not rot, not yet, it looks greyish.
The woman looked grey. Her neck wound had been cleaned and searched. The wound looked puckered like a second giant mouth below her chin.
Dr. Saville pulled her head back casually. "The cut was very deep. It severed the muscles in the neck and the carotid artery. Death was fairly quick."
"Professionally done," I said.
"Well, yes, whoever cut her throat knew what they were doing. There are a dozen different ways to injure the neck that won't kill or won't kill quickly."
John Burke said, "Are you saying that my brother had practice?"
"I don't know," I said. "Do you have her personal effects?"
"Right here." Marian unfastened a much smaller bag and spilled it out on an empty table. The golden charm bracelet sparkled under the fluorescent lights.
I picked the bracelet up in my still gloved hand. A tiny strung bow complete with arrow, a different musical note, two entwined hearts. Everything Evans had said.
"How did you know about the charm and the dead woman?" John Burke asked.
"I took some evidence to a clairvoyant. He saw the woman's death and the bracelet."
"What's that got to do with Peter?"
"I believe a voodoo priestess had Peter raise a zombie. It got away from him. It's been killing people. To hide what she's done, she killed Peter."
"Who did it?"
"I have no proof unless the gris-gris will be proof enough."
"A vision and a gris-gris." John shook his head. "Hard sell to a jury."
"I know. That's why we need more proof."
Dr. Saville just watched us talk, like an eager spectator.
"A name, Anita, give me a name."
"Only if you swear not to go after her until the law has its chance. Only if the law fails, promise me."
"I give you my word."
I studied his face for a minute. The dark eyes stared back, clear and certain. Bet he could lie with a clear conscience. "I don't trust just anybody's word." I stared at him a moment longer. He never flinched. I guess my hard-as-nails look has faded a little. Or maybe he meant to keep his word. It happens sometimes.
"Alright, I'll take your word. Don't make me regret it."
"I won't," he said. "Now give me the name."
I turned to Dr. Saville. "Excuse us, Marian. The less you know about all this, the greater your chances of never waking to a zombie crawling through your window." An exaggeration, sort of, but it made my point.
She looked like she wanted to protest but finally nodded. "Very well, but I would dearly love to hear the complete story someday, if it's safe."
"If I can tell it, it's yours," I said.
She nodded again, shut the drawer the Jane Doe lay on, and left. "Yell when you're finished. I've got work to do," she said and the door closed behind her.
She left us with the evidence still clutched in our hands. Guess she trusted me. Or us?
"Dominga Salvador," I said.
He drew a sharp breath. "I know that name. She is a frightening force if all the stories are true."
"They're true," I said.