Accidents, some would say, happened all too often. And so, Eve thought, did murder. All too often.

"You've had a long night, Peabody. You're off duty."

"I would prefer to stay on, Lieutenant, and see this through."

"You won't help her or me unless you can see it through objectively."

"I can do my job, sir. My feelings are my own business."

Eve hitched up her field kit, took a long look at her aide. "Yes, they are. Just don't let them get in my way." She took her recorder out of her kit, held it out to Peabody. "On record, Officer. We'll examine the subject's residence."

"Do you intend to notify the next of kin? Sir?''

"When we're done here."

They headed east, back to Alice's building. She hadn't gotten far, Eve thought, barely a block. What had driven her back out? And what had driven her into the path of the cab?

The building was a pretty, restored brownstone of three stories. The entrance doors sported beveled glass with an etched design of peacocks. The security camera was in full repair, and the locks coded for palm prints. Eve disarmed them with a master code and entered a small, well-scrubbed foyer with faux marble floors. The elevator had a mirrored bronze sheen and ran with silent efficiency.

Alice, she thought, had had taste and the financial resources to indulge it. There were three apartments on the third floor, and again Eve used her master to gain entrance.

"Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and aide, Peabody, Officer D., entering residence of deceased for standard examination. Lights," she ordered, then frowned when the room remained dark.

Peabody reached around the door, flicked a switch. "She must have preferred manual to voice-activated."

The room was cluttered and colorful. Pretty scarves and throws were draped over chairs, tables. Tapestries depicting attractive naked people and mythological animals romped over the walls. Candles were everywhere, on tables, on shelves, on the floor, as were bowls of colored stones, of herbs, of dried flower petals. Chunks and wands of crystal, sparkling clean, crowded every flat surface.

A mood screen was engaged and showed a wide field of meadow grass and wildflowers blowing gently in the breeze. Its audio played the song of birds and zephyrs.

"She liked pretty things," Eve observed. "And lots of them." Moving over, she glanced at the controls of the mood screen and nodded as they corroborated her thought. "She flipped this on as soon as she walked in. Wanted to mellow out, I'd say."

Leaving Peabody to follow, she walked into the adjoining room. The bedroom was small, cozy, and again cluttered. The spread on the narrow bed was embroidered with stars and moons. A glass mobile, dancing with fairies, hung above it and even now clinked musically in the breeze through the open window.

"This would have been the window, the light you saw come on."

"Yes, sir."

"So she flipped on the screen, then came straight into the bedroom. Probably wanted to change, get out of the damp dress. But she didn't." Eve stepped on to a small area rug with the face of a smiling sun. "It's cluttered, but tidy in its way. No sign of disturbance or struggle."

"Struggle?"

"You said she was agitated, crying when she came back out. The country meadow program didn't mellow her, or didn't have enough time to."

"She didn't bother to shut it down again."

"No," Eve agreed. "She didn't. There's the possibility someone was here when she got home. Someone who upset or frightened her. We'll check the security logs." She opened what she assumed was a closet, and let out a hum. "Well, look at this. She'd turned it into a room of some kind. Not a lot of clutter here. Get this on record."

Peabody stepped up, scanned the recorder over a small, white-walled room. The floor was wood with a white pentagram painted on it. A ring of white candles were arranged in careful symmetry around the edge. A small table held a clear crystal ball, a bowl, a mirror, and a dark-handled knife with a short, blunted blade.

Eve sniffed the air, but caught no hint of smoke or candle wax. "What do you figure she did in here?''

"I'd say it was kind of ritual room, for meditation, or casting spells."

"Jesus." With a shake of her head, Eve stepped back. "We'll leave that for now and check out her 'link. If no one was here to scare her back out, maybe she got a call that did. She came into the bedroom first," Eve murmured, wandering back to the small bedside 'link. "Maybe she intended to go in there and play witch after she'd changed and calmed down. She wasn't carrying anything when she went back out. She didn't come in here to get something and go out again. She was upset, she came home."

Eve engaged the 'link, requested a replay of the last call transmitted or received. And the room rilled with low, rhythmic chanting.

"What the hell is that?"

"I don't know." Uneasy, Peabody stepped closer.

"Replay," Eve demanded.

"Hear the names. Hear the names and fear them. Loki, Beelzebub, Baphomet. I am annihilation. I am revenge. In nomine Dei nostri Santanas Luciferi excelsi. Vengeance for you who strayed from the law. Hear the names and fear."

"Stop." Eve gave a quick, involuntary shudder. "Beelzebub, that's devil shit, isn't it? The bastards were playing with her, tormenting her. And she was already on the edge. No wonder she ran out of here. Where were you, you son of a bitch, where were you? Location of last transmission. Display." Her mouth thinned as she read the data. "Tenth and Seventh, right down the goddamn street. Probably a public 'link. Fuckers. She was heading right for them."

"There wasn't anyone there." But Peabody was watching Eve's face now, and the fury that fired in her eyes. "Even with the fog, the rain, I would have seen someone if they'd been laying for her. There wasn't anything there but a cat."

Eve's heart took a bad jump. "A what?"

"Just a cat. I caught a glimpse of a cat, but there was no one on the street."

"A cat." Eve walked to the window. Suddenly, she felt the need for a good gulp of air. There, on the sill, she saw the long, black feather. "And a bird," she murmured. She took out tweezers, held the feather up to the light. "We've still got the occasional crow in New York. A crow's the same thing as a raven, isn't it?"

"More or less. I think."

"Bag it," Eve ordered. "I want it analyzed." She rubbed her fingers over her eyes as if to push away fatigue. "Next of kin would be Brenda Wojinski, mother. Run that for an address."

"Yes, sir." Peabody took out her PPC, then simply held it while shame washed over her. "Lieutenant, I'd like to apologize for my earlier comment and my behavior."

Eve took the disc from the 'link, sealed it herself. "I don't recall any comment, Peabody, or any unsatisfactory behavior." She gave Peabody a level look. "While the recorder is still engaged, do another scan of the apartment."

Understanding, Peabody inclined her head. "I'm aware the recorder is still engaged, Lieutenant. I want this on the record. I was insubordinate and out of line both professionally and personally."

Damn stiff-necked idiot, Eve thought and bit back an oath. "There was no insubordination in my opinion or in my recollection, Officer."

"Dallas." Peabody loosed a sigh. "I damn well was. I was shaky and having a hard time dealing with the situation. It's one thing to see a body after it's done, and another to see a woman get tossed ten feet in the air and land on the pavement. She was under my watch."

"I was rough on you."

"Yes, sir, you were. And you needed to be. I thought that because you were able to maintain, you were able to do your job, it meant you didn't care. I was wrong, and I'm sorry."

"Acknowledged. Now, put this on record, Peabody. You followed orders, you followed procedure. You were not at fault for what happened tonight. You could not have prevented it. Now, put it aside so we can find out why she's dead."