Forgotten in Death

by J. D. Robb

“You like what the chair represents,” Peabody corrected as she sent the data.

  “Same thing.”

  Eve ate another fry, then picked up her plate and sat on the floor across from Peabody.

  “Aw.”

  “It’s not sentiment. It’s weird looking down at you when we’re working out how to go at Tovinski.”

  “I’m good cop.” Peabody made an O with her mouth, slapped a hand on her heart. “Surprise!”

  “Not exactly. Women are his bad heel.”

  “Achilles’ heel?”

  “Isn’t that what it means? He’s got that weakness. You could get a little flirt on—not overdone, just a little.”

  “Flirt?”

  “You’ve got the tits. Plus, you’re his type. I ran his wife, his other women. He goes for brunettes with the tits. Reo’s got the girly looks and knows how to use them so dumb-asses underestimate her. But you have the tits.”

  Peabody looked down. “Why is it always about the tits?”

  “I figure men don’t have them, so they want them. Add the last one he knocked up is young. You’re younger, but she’s still in her twenties. He’s going younger and sticking with tits, so a little flirt on’s a good angle.”

  “I can do a little flirt. Can I giggle?”

  “Don’t overdo it. And shut it down when you feel it’s time. Shut it down hard.”

  “I like that part.”

  “We start with Delgato—nothing about Alva unless it opens. Delgato—the fabric, the finances, that connection. And the other women. I want to know if his uncle knows about them. If he knows about the skimming.”

  “You don’t think he does?”

  “I don’t, but I could be wrong. I’m right, we play it that way. I’m wrong, we play it the other.”

  She looked back at the next signal. “That’s the search warrants. Let’s get this party started.”

  * * *

  It took time to bring Tovinski in, for him to contact a lawyer, for the lawyer to arrive and consult with his client. Eve gave them plenty of time and used it to prepare for the interview, to drag more updates from the accountant.

  She had her file ready to go when Reo walked into her office.

  “Tovinski and his lawyer are about finished. He’s got Dima Ilyin, Yuri Bardov’s personal attorney. I assume you already know that.”

  “Pays to know.”

  “So we go with Plan A.”

  “It’s a good plan.”

  “I’ll be in Observation until. Interview A, correct?”

  “Yeah, Santiago and Carmichael are working one in B.”

  “Okay then, God bless us, every one.”

  Eve finished loading her files, gathered them up. When she walked into the bullpen, Peabody rose from her desk. “Good timing. They’re ready for us.”

  “They think they are.” Revved and more than ready, Eve walked to Interview A.

  She opened the door. “Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve and Peabody, Detective Delia entering Interview with Tovinski, Alexei and counsel. State your name please, sir, for the record.”

  “Dima Ilyin.”

  “Ilyin, Dima, representing Mr. Tovinski in this interview regarding case number F-26451 and case number H-45180, and related matters.”

  Eve sat, set the files on the table as Peabody took the seat beside her. “Mr. Tovinski, were you read your rights and, if so, do you understand your rights and obligations in this matter?”

  “My client stipulates that he was read his rights and understands them.”

  “Great.” Eve opened the first file, and saw out of the corner of her eye Peabody execute a not altogether subtle hair flip.

  “While my client is prepared to fully cooperate with your investigation into this unfortunate death, he further stipulates that he had only the most peripheral and occasional working relationship with Mr. Delgato.

  “Lieutenant.” Ilyin folded his well-manicured hands.

  As he paused with what Eve took to be a sober smile on his face, Eve folded her own hands, looked directly at him.

  A hawkish face, she thought, with the beaked nose, the jutting jaw, the prominent black eyebrows over eyes nearly as dark. He wore his hair in a snow-white mane.

  He had no trace of an accent in his deep, almost throaty baritone.

  “It wasn’t a secret that Mr. Delgato had a serious, one could say debilitating gambling addiction. This addiction had cost Mr. Delgato his marriage, the respect of his adult children, and caused him to live alone in a small apartment in a building patronized by street LCs and indigents.”

  “That’s a lot of information about someone who was only a peripheral and occasional coworker.”

  Ilyin lifted the fingers of his folded hands. “Mr. Delgato’s difficulties and predilections were common gossip among the crews. As is the information that Mr. Delgato was found hanging in his apartment in what would strongly appear to be a suicide. While tragic, I fail to see how this involves my client.”

  “I hope to make that more clear. We’ll start with the fraudulent financial accounts, which violate U.S. tax and investment laws.”

  “Lieutenant.” That smile again. “We’re all aware you and the detective work in Homicide. If we could—”

  “Is your client refusing to cooperate re these violations?”

  “I believe we can discuss those with the authorities so assigned. Meanwhile.”

  “I’m the authority so assigned,” Eve snapped back. “Two of these fraudulent, tax-evading, illegal accounts are in New York, and the funding of same applies to the investigation of Carmine Delgato’s death. If your client wishes to remain silent on those matters, I can have him taken back to his cell.”

  Tovinski muttered something in Russian and earned a sharp look from the lawyer.

  “My client is an engineer, not a financial expert. Clearly, he mistakenly and inadvertently signed papers that opened these additional accounts, and was unaware he was in violation. He will, of course, immediately rectify that mistake and will pay any and all fines attached.”

  “Would that include the accounts set up in Grand Cayman, in Moscow, and in Kiev?”

  Ilyin’s interlocked fingers tightened, just a little. “Of course.”

  Didn’t know, Eve concluded. Somebody’s client isn’t being fully open and honest.

  “There’s a question of the funding thereof. How did you come up with one million, two hundred and eighty-four dollars over and above your earned income in the last twenty-four months, Mr. Tovinski?”

  “My client receives cash bonuses.”

  “Cash, unreported, of over a million dollars in the past twenty-four months?”

  “Again, my client admits to some mistakes, as he is not fully educated on tax law and codes. He wasn’t aware he needed to report the cash.”

  “Strange. You’d think his lawyer, his accountant, his financial adviser would be fully educated.”

  “Lost in translation.”

  “Oh? Do you speak English, Mr. Tovinski?”

  “I speak English.”

  At the accent, Peabody let out a soft sound, like a woman who’d just taken a bite out of something decadent and delicious. It earned her a warm look.

  “And Italian and, of course, Russian. I am an educated man, but with money matters…” He lifted broad shoulders, giving Peabody another eye-flirt. “I am not so much.”

  “Are you married, Mr. Tovinski?”

  “My client is a happily married man, and a loving father to his son and his daughter.”

  “Son and daughter, singular?” Eve nodded as she looked through the file. “I see here you have a joint account with a Nadia Tovinski, that would be your wife. And there’s an account, a trust fund for your son Mikael and your daughter Una.” She looked up and straight into Tovinski’s hard, handsome face. “I assume these other accounts, the hidden ones, are in your name only, as you preferred to keep them from your wife, son, and daughter.”

  “My client’s marriage isn’t relevant.”


  “Have to disagree. It’s relevant when the accounts in question are used to provide funds for … Let me find the list. Here we go. Elsa Karvell and the two minor children Gregor and Alise. For Pilar Sanchez and the minor child, Elena, and for Masie Franks, who is currently thirty weeks pregnant.”

  She looked up, noted Tovinski’s stony face and the glint of anger in Ilyin’s eyes.

  “I see a pattern there. Don’t you, Detective?”

  “I…” In Peabody’s eyes, Eve saw dazzle, which her partner struggled to erase. “I, yes, sir.”

  “Do your son and daughter with your legal wife know they have half siblings, Mr. Tovinski?”

  “This is not your business.”

  “I take that as a no. You’ve cheated on your wife a minimum of three times, impregnating these women—one of them twice—and have these accounts to pay them off, ensure their silence.”

  “I pay no one off!” Outrage sparked, had him pounding a fist on the table.”

  “Alexei—”

  “No!” He shoved the lawyer’s hand aside. “She insults me.” He turned his gaze to Peabody. “Do I look like a man who must pay women?”

  “No.” Peabody let out the giggle, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “I mean to say…”

  Eve barely flicked Peabody a glance. “You went to a lot of trouble to set up hidden and illegal accounts to conceal them from your wife.”

  “It’s not illegal for a man to have needs outside of marriage. I do not pay them off. I do my duty and see that the children have good homes, the best education and care. This is what a man who is a man does.”

  “It’s a great deal of money.”

  “These children are my blood.”

  “If your wife were to learn of these accounts, the funds in them, and how some of those funds are used?”

  “There is no reason for her to know.”

  “And your uncle. Yuri Bardov.”

  “There is no reason. This is my business only.” He turned to the lawyer, eyes hot. “This is attorney-client privilege.”

  “Maybe Carmine Delgato found out.”

  Tovinski made a pfft sound. “The man is a plumber. He’s a plumber. I barely know him. How would he know my private business?”

  “Maybe you had a drink with him after work. I’m told some of the crews do that sort of thing.”

  “I am not crew. I am an engineer.”

  “Right. So you and Delgato never sat down over drinks.”

  “No. I barely know him. Knew him.”

  “You never had personal conversations or conversations that didn’t apply to the work itself?”

  “No.”

  “You never went to his apartment, visited him there?”

  “Why would I? I don’t know where he lives. He matters nothing. I don’t know him.”

  “So you never went to his apartment on West Twenty-sixth? Apartment 2B?”

  “I said no. No, I have not been there.”

  “Okay, let’s move on.” Eve pushed through the files. “Detective, there should be water in here. Go out and bring in some water.”

  “Yes, sir. Um. Peabody, exiting Interview.”

  At the door, she turned, shot Tovinski a quick smile. When he smiled back, she only half muffled a giggle.

  “Lieutenant.”

  Even in the single word, Eve heard the change in Ilyin’s tone. He was angry. Oh yeah, he was pissed. But he’d continue to do his job.

  “We’ve answered your questions regarding the mistakes made in my client’s financial accounts. We will agree to rectify those mistakes and pay appropriate fines. My client’s personal … behavior regarding his marriage and extramarital activities are private matters.”

  “Look at that. We disagree again. It goes to motive.”

  “My client has stated, repeatedly, that he had no relationship with Mr. Delgato. He would certainly have no reason to share this personal and private information with a plumber with the Singer organization.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But he shared other business with him. I’m going to believe you’re crap at financials, Tovinski. Just like you’re crap once someone with working brains goes beneath the surface of invoices and orders and material inventory.”

  She pulled copies out of the file, shot them across the table. “And I’m betting your uncle doesn’t know you’ve been dipping your hand in his pockets. I wonder if he knows you’ve been dipping it into the pockets of companies he’s partnered with on various projects. Like Singer.”

  “This is bullshit! This is made-up!”

  “I’m betting your lawyer has a working brain, and it won’t take him long to see the bullshit’s on your side of the table. Or to see that a good many of these invoices, order and inventory sheets are signed off by you and Carmine Delgato.”

  “Then he was a cheat as well as a gambling whore.”

  “Oh, agreed. But you’re a cheat as well as—in my personal opinion—a man whore.”

  He lunged up, his face infused with rage as he reached over and dragged Eve out of her chair. She punched him in the throat—pulled it, as she wanted him to be able to talk. He flung her across the room.

  Her shoulder hit the wall, but she sprang up as Ilyin struggled to pull Tovinski back.

  Ilyin shouted in Russian, wrapping his arms around Tovinski as Eve rolled her shoulders back. “We’ll add assaulting an officer to the rest. Sit your ass down, and now.”

  “I take that from no woman.”

  “You’ll take it from me or sit in a cage until I’m ready to bring you back.”

  “Alexei, Alexei, you must sit. You must be calm. Lieutenant, my client is overwrought. You clearly goaded him. I need a few moments with my client.”

  “You want a few minutes?” She started gathering papers that had scattered when he attacked her. “That’ll give me time to put all this back together. Including the records from your client’s comp in his home office. Search warrant, counselor, a copy of which is in this file. The records that list just how much he stole from his own uncle. Bardov projects accounted for more than seven hundred thousand in the last twelve-month period. It’s not a cash bonus, Alexei, when you steal it.”

  “Lies. She lies.”

  “Fact. Documented. Your own records. Uncle Yuri’s going to be very disappointed.” Eve gathered up the files, headed for the door. “Interview paused by counsel’s request. Dallas exiting Interview. Record off.”

  She pulled open the door, glanced back. “I wonder how Yuri Bardov handles someone who disappoints him.”

  She shut the door, then gripped a hand on her screaming shoulder and said, “Fuck!”

  “You hit hard.” Peabody hurried down to her. “I was going for the door when Reo said to stop, you had it under control. I got you a cold pack.”

  “I figured him for a puncher and I could block most of one, just let him catch a piece of me.” She pushed the files at Peabody, then slapped the cold pack on her shoulder. “Well, we got violent temper on the goddamn record.”

  She nodded as Reo came out of Observation and started toward them. “How’re we doing?”

  “Plan A’s a very good plan. Ilyin’s off his game because his client lied to him. He’s certainly known Tovinski for years, but he didn’t know. Not about the women, the other children, and he sure as hell didn’t know about the skimming. My take? Right now, he’s getting as much out of Tovinski as he can and it’s likely Tovinski will give him some because he’s counting on privilege.”

  “But?”

  “As we discussed, unless Tovinski’s a complete idiot, once he calms down, clears his head, he’ll start thinking about who Ilyin’s real client is. How’s the shoulder?”

  “Hurts like a mother.”

  “If it’s any consolation, it’s going to make an excellent visual on record. I’m going back. I say I stay where I am until the next reveal.”

  “It’ll be coming right up.”

  While Reo walked back, Peabody turned to Eve. “How
’s my flirting?”

  “It’s revolting, which means it’s good. He thinks you’re an easy mark. Plus, you’re feeding his considerable ego. You should keep it up until—”

  She broke off when Ilyin stepped out. “Lieutenant, I’d like to apologize again, but I believe the record will show you goaded my client into an unwise reaction.”

  “Looks like we disagree again. Is he ready to continue the interview?”

  “Yes, or in a moment. I appreciate the water, but I’d prefer coffee.”

  “Oh.” Peabody handed Eve back the files, juggled the four tubes of water. “I’ll get that for you.”

  “No need. I’d like to use the washroom. I’ll just be a moment.”

  “Down the hall, on the left,” Eve directed. “We’ll hold outside the room until you’re ready.”

  Eve started back toward Interview, glanced back to see Ilyin pull out his ’link. “He’s contacting Bardov.”

  “He could be disbarred for breaking privilege.”

  “Who’s going to tell on him?”

  Eve tossed the cold pack in a recycler. “Give it another minute. I’m dressing you down for acting like a girl in there.”

  “Got it.” Peabody lowered her head.

  “I want to give the lawyer time to hit the high points before we go in. Okay, he’s gone into the john. He’s going to make it quick, but Tovinski’s going to have time to sit and stew. And start thinking.”

  She took out her communicator, set up the next step.

  When she slid it back into her pocket, Ilyin came out of the restroom, stopped by Vending for coffee.

  “Thank you for your patience,” he said when he joined them. “If we could continue, without histrionics, I believe we’ll resolve this entire matter quickly.”

  “Sure.” Eve went in. “Record on. Dallas, Peabody, and counsel for Tovinski reentering Interview.”

  Peabody actually flushed and fluttered her lashes as she set the tube of water in front of Tovinski.

  “Thank you. You’re very kind. I am to apologize, Lieutenant, for allowing my emotions to rise.”

  “Is that what you call it? Let’s continue. Regarding these invoices, inventories, order sheets.”

  “I can think only someone forged my signature. It may be this Delgato did so to feed his gambling habit.”