Salvation in death

“Here at the Mark, our guests’ wishes are sacrosanct.”

“Try this: How are you going to serve your guests’ wishes when you’re down at Central and the jokers in EDD are playing with you?”

He seemed to consider that, as far as droids considered anything. “I have to verify your identification.”

“Go ahead.” A thin red beam shot out of his eyes as he sca

“Does she have a roommate?”

“No. The other members of the Eternal Lights share a suite, but Ms. Pintz prefers her own quarters.”

“I bet.”

Satisfied, she walked with Roarke to the elevator. “It’s not as much fun to intimidate droids.”

“We have to take our small disappointments. Think of how you’ll enjoy interrogating Ulla.”

“Yeah.” She stepped on the elevator. “Maybe that’ll make up for it. I also could be chasing my tail by looking at this as essentially unco

“Trusting your instincts instead of the hard facts?”

“If I were to run a probability right now, I’m pretty damn sure I’d get high eighties that we’ve got the same killer on both.”

“And you think not.”

“I think not. I think I know who killed Jenkins. Not sure why yet.”

Eve got off the elevator, walked down to 1203. The Do Not Disturb light beamed from the door. She ignored it and knocked.

“Ulla Pintz, this is the police. Open the door.”

After several seconds of silence, Eve knocked again, gave the same command.

“Hello?” A high, quavery voice spoke through the speaker. “I’m, ah, indisposed. They said I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone until tomorrow.”

“They were wrong. You need to open the door, Ulla, or I’ll secure authorization to use my master.”

“I don’t understand.” Sniffles accompanied the words now as locks clicked off. “Samuel said we could come back, and not talk to anyone.” The door opened. “He’s a lawyer and everything.”

“I’m a cop and everything. Lieutenant Dallas,” Eve added, and deliberately said nothing about Roarke as they stepped in. “Rough night, huh, Ulla?”

“It’s so horrible.” Ulla wiped at her eyes. She’d taken off the poofy dress and wore the hotel’s white robe. She’d had enough time to remove several layers of stage makeup so her face was naked, pale, splotchy. And very young. “He died. Right in front of us. I don’t know how.”

Recognizing one who didn’t play damsel but simply was one, Roarke took her arm. “Why don’t you sit down?”

The room was small, but managed to cram in a tiny sitting area in addition to the bed. Roarke led her to a chair.

“Thank you. We’re all so upset. Jimmy Jay was so big and healthy and, and larger than life, so full of the energy of the Lord.” She made what Eve could only describe as a blubbery sound, then buried her face in a tissue. “I don’t know how he could be gone!”

“I’m working on finding out. Why don’t you tell me about your relationship with Jimmy Jay?”

As she lifted her head again, Ulla’s eyes popped wide, actually jittered. “Why do you say that? I sing. We sing. Me and Patsy and Carmella and Wanda, we’re the Eternal Lights. We make a joyful noise.”

It was late, Eve thought, and there wasn’t any point in screwing around. She sat on the foot of the bed so that her eyes were level with Ulla’s swimming ones. “We know, Ulla.”

Ulla’s gaze shot up, rolled away. Like a kid’s might when he denies snitching cookies even when his hand is stuck in the jar. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Ulla.”

When Roarke spoke before she could, Eve scowled at him. But his attention was focused on Ulla.

“Jimmy Jay would want you to tell us the truth. He needs your help. Someone killed him.”

“Oh my goodness. Oh gosh.”

“He needs you to tell us the truth so that we can find out who did this, so we can find the answers for those who loved him, who followed him. Who believed in him.”

Ulla clasped her hands together, pressed them in the deep valley between her very impressive breasts. “We all did. I think we’ll be lost without him, I really do. I don’t know how we’ll find the path to Enlightenment again.”

“The truth is the first step on the path.”

She blinked, her watery brown eyes fixed on Roarke. “Really?”

“You’re carrying a burden now, the burden of a secret. He wants you to lay it down and take that first step on the path. I’m sure of it.”

“Oh.” Her eyes stayed riveted on Roarke’s. “If I could! But I don’t want to do anything that would hurt him, or Jolene, or the girls. I’d just never forgive myself.”

“Telling us will help them, not hurt them. If they don’t need to know this answer, it won’t leave this room.”

She closed her eyes a moment while her lips moved in silent prayer. “I’m so confused. So sick in my heart. I want to help. I want to stay on the path.” Ulla spoke to Roarke. It was, Eve realized, as if she herself had poofed like smoke.

“I guess you could say that Jimmy Jay and I had a special bond. A relationship that transcended earthy barriers.”

“You loved each other,” Roarke prompted.

“We did. We did.” Gratitude poured through her voice at his understanding. “In a different way from the way he loved Jolene, and his girls, and how I love my almost fiancé, Earl, back in Tupelo.”

Ulla glanced at the photo beside her bed of a ski

“We created light with each other. And I helped him, with my body, gain the strength to preach the Word. It wasn’t just physical, you see. It wasn’t like, well, sex.”

Eve resisted, by a thin, thin thread, asking what the hell it was like if it wasn’t like sex.

“Though we gave each other pleasure, I don’t deny it.” Eyes leaking, and pleading for understanding, Ulla caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “But through the pleasure, we gained a deeper understanding. Not everyone understands the understanding, so we had to keep it just between the two of us.”

“Can I ask how long you had this special bond?” Eve put in.

“Four months, two weeks, and five days.” Ulla smiled sweetly. “We both prayed on it first, and that power-the spiritual power-was so strong, we knew it was right.”

“And how often did you… create light with each other?”

“Oh, two or three times a week.”

“Including this afternoon.”

“Yes. Tonight was a very big night, for all of us. It was so important that Jimmy Jay have all the light and energy we could make.”

She took another tissue, blew her nose delicately. “He came here this afternoon. I stayed in when the girls went out to do a little sightseeing before going to rehearsal. It took almost an hour. It was a special, special night, so we had to create a lot of light.”

“Did he ever give you anything?” Eve asked. “Money, presents.”

“Oh no, oh goodness. That would be wrong.”

“Uh-huh. Did you ever go out together? Travel together, a holiday, out to di

“No, oh no. We just came together in my room wherever we were. For the light. Or maybe, once or twice, backstage somewhere if he needed a little extra closer to preaching.”

“And you didn’t worry that you might be found out by someone who didn’t understand the understanding.”

“Well, I was, a little. But Jimmy Jay felt that we were shielded by our higher purpose, and our pure intentions.”

“No one ever confronted you about your relationship?”

Her lips moved into a soft, sad pout. “Not until now.”

“You never told, or hinted, to your friends? The other singers, your, ah, almost fiancé.”

“No, I didn’t. I was bound by my word. Jimmy Jay and I both swore r [I bt="ight on the Bible that we’d never tell anyone. I hope it’s all right I’ve told you. You said-”

“It’s different now,” Roarke assured her.

“Because he’s gone to the angels. I’m so tired. I just want to say my prayers and go to bed now. Is that all right?”