Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X #1)(60)
Author: Richelle Mead

“The victim’s wife moved out,” he told them when they reached the house in which the murder had occurred. “But nothing has been changed whatsoever in the building. We got extensive pictures and documentation at the time, and I verified this morning that everything is the same.” He hesitated. “I hope that’s all right.”

“That’s great,” said Justin, earning a relieved smile.

Leo, though pleased at having uncontaminated evidence, was less thrilled at the house’s size. “It’s huge. This is going to take forever.”

To be fair, the house was enormous, especially for two people. The architecture was in keeping with common Gemman luxury homes, though the pointed roof and a few other flourishes hearkened back to the caste’s Japanese roots. The inside told a similar tale. Painted screens and clean lines paired with trendy lush furniture and media screens. Here was a family in possession of stereotypical castal wealth.

Leo immediately began to take apart the house’s main security panel. It monitored every door and window in the house, and like the other sites, initial investigation of the system’s memory had shown no sign of entry anywhere. Video surveillance had been disabled, providing the only clue (aside from the dead body) that someone had been inside.

“Remind you of the old Koskinen estate?” Justin asked Mae as they strolled through the house.

“Our koi pond was bigger,” she said. She gazed around and walked over to an ornamental tea set. Her features were luminous in the light pouring through the window. He was dying to know more about the ex-boyfriend she’d hinted at on the plane and needed to figure out the best strategy for getting information without receiving bodily harm in the process. The relationships people formed—or didn’t form—spoke legions about them, and he was a little surprised that someone who feared others seeing her emotions during sex had managed any kind of long-term relationship.

She didn’t say it was long term, said Horatio.

She didn’t have to. It was in the way she spoke. When he received no response, Justin couldn’t help but add, I guess I can pick up on some things that you guys can’t.

Of course you can, said Magnus. Otherwise we wouldn’t need you.

“Dr. March?” Hiroshi appeared with a petite young woman. “This is Mrs. Hata, the victim’s wife.”

Mrs. Hata looked drawn and nervous, but Justin read it more as a reaction to his presence rather than a sign of any culpability. Police investigations had confirmed her alibi, and she didn’t look like she would have had the strength to drive the dagger into her husband’s heart anyway. He gave her a friendly smile, hoping to put her at ease.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, shaking hands. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” she said. “I’ve already talked to the police over and over.”

“I know. And I’m sorry to keep putting you through this, but we just have a few more questions.” He motioned to the dining room. “Can we talk in here? I’ll keep it brief.”

She sat down opposite him at the table, clasping her hands in front of her. Her features showed the phenotype so prized by her caste: dark hair, high cheekbones, golden skin, and almond-shaped brown eyes. Long, thick lashes crowned her narrow eyelids, giving her an added touch of allure, even if the lashes were false. She wore her hair in a smart haircut that went to her chin, meaning she most likely had a touch of Cain. Genetically pure castal woman tended to show off their undamaged hair by wearing it long, like Mae did. As the light caught Mrs. Hata’s hair, he saw an almost lacquerlike sheen, verifying his suspicions. Heavy gloss treatments were a common way to cover the thin and frail hair Cain so often caused. When she brushed that hair aside, she inadvertently revealed a bit of scarring near her ears. There were certain kinds of expensive face-lifts that could smooth out the pockmarked skin of Cain, but they always left slight signs at the periphery. Mrs. Hata displayed most of Cain’s detrimental effects and had no children either. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she had asthma too.

Justin was ready to reel her in with his charm and pleasantries, but a second glance at her stricken face made him decide not to play any games today. He kept his interview brief, asking the same questions he had before about any questionable religious involvement on the part of the victim. Like his past interviewees, she was quite alarmed at the thought of her family being connected to a cult. In fact, she even adamantly pointed out that her husband had petitioned the grant’s government to ban all religions on their land. He’d had a particularly vehement dislike of them. That was an interesting tidbit, and Justin wondered if it was enough to have put Mr. Hata on some group’s hit list. The only hiccup in that logic was that a retribution theory implied that a Nipponese religion was involved, which wouldn’t likely have interest in other patricians. Still, it was a connection worth noting.

They chatted a bit more, and he finally let her go. She was eager to return to her mother’s home. Mae, unable to stay still long, had gone outside, so Justin joined Leo as he examined the site of the murder.

The master bedroom was expansive, the size of three of the bedrooms back at his house put together. A silk coverlet draped the bed, and a small alcove near the fireplace held a table that might be used for reading or tea. Blood stained the carpet. Leo knelt by the fireplace and stood at Justin’s approach.

“It’s sealed. Only for show.” Leo pointed up at a horizontal line of windows near the ceiling. They were the only ones in the room. “Those are too small for anyone to get through.”

“And I’m guessing the security system recorded no entry in the door?”

“Nope.” Leo walked over to the doorway and ran his hand along the side. “It only recorded his entry before he died and then his wife’s a few hours later. If the door’s locked from within, only hand chips could open it from the outside—unless you had the demolition equipment to bust it down. Obviously, that didn’t happen.”

“Then it’s the most secure room in the house.” Justin examined a picture screen on the dresser that scrolled through various personal shots of the family’s life. “Like with the other murders. I’d almost say whoever did this is showing off.”

He’d seen a head shot of Mr. Hata in the official case files, but the personal pictures showed a whole different view into the dead man’s world. A wedding picture focused in on the happy couple’s faces. He couldn’t see much of their attire, but she wore a traditional Japanese hood that hid the scarring and short haircut. At a glance, Mr. Hata’s face showed no ostensible signs of Cain, but that wasn’t uncommon. A family whose child had good genes could arrange an expensive marriage to a family hoping to weed out Cain. He’d observed it in the previous castal investigations as well. It was why Mae’s vocation—and the fact that she even had one—was so unusual.