The In Death Collection, Books 16-20

by J. D. Robb

  “As you are the epitome of cheer and goodwill by nature, sir, this will be somewhat of a stretch.”

  “I smell the distinct aroma of lame-ass sarcasm in this vehicle.”

  “We’ll have it fumigated.”

  “But fortunately I’m the epitome of cheer and goodwill and will not rub your nose in it at this time. A few minutes into my unfriendly conversation with Fortney, I’m going to get a tag on my pocket ’link.”

  “As I’m in awe of you in all ways, I’m unsurprised by this sudden psychic ability.”

  “I’ll be annoyed, but will have to take the communication, thereby passing the interview to you.”

  “Do you also know who’ll be tagging . . . What? To me?”

  That, Eve thought, had wiped the sassy little smirk off her aide’s face. “You’ll pick it up as good cop. The long-suffering, somewhat inexperienced, and apologetic underling. Play that up, fumble around.”

  “Sir. Dallas. I am the long-suffering, somewhat inexperienced, and apologetic underling. I don’t have to play it up or pretend to fumble around.”

  “Use it,” Eve said simply. “Make it work for you. Let him think he’s leading you. He’ll see a girl cop in uniform, who takes orders from me. Second-string. He won’t see past that to what you’re made of.”

  I don’t know what I’m made of, Peabody thought, but drew a deep breath. “I can see how it could work.”

  “Make it work,” Eve said again, and parked outside the office building to set the timer on her ’link.

  Eve bullied her way into Leo Fortney’s office and set the mood. Enjoyed setting it, she admitted. She put a little swagger in her step as she broke in on his holo-conference with a video producer.

  “You’re going to want to reschedule your little confab, Leo,” she told him. “Or let Hollywood here in on our conversation.”

  “You have no right pushing your way in here, throwing your weight around.”

  She flipped out her badge so the images in the room had a clear view. “Bet?”

  Fortney’s color was edging toward magenta. “I’m sorry, Thad. I need to take care of this . . . disturbance. I’ll have my assistant reschedule, at your convenience.”

  He shut the hologram down before Thad could do more than raise two thin eyebrows into sharp, questioning points.

  “I don’t have to tolerate this kind of ambush!” His magenta hair was pulled severely back from his face today, and the sleek tail of it whipped wildly as he flung out his arms. “I’m calling my lawyer, and I’ll see you’re reprimanded by your superior.”

  “You do that. And we’ll take this to Central where you can explain to me, your lawyer, and my superior why you handed me a pile of bullshit as an alibi.”

  Eve toed in, and punched a finger toward his chest. “Lying to a primary during a homicide investigation doesn’t earn you any points, Leo.”

  “If you think you can insinuate that I’m covering up some crime—”

  “I’m not insinuating anything.” She got right up in his face as she spoke, and enjoyed that as well. “I’m saying it. Flat out. Your meal ticket didn’t back you up, pal. You did not, as you claimed, retire with her on the night in question. She went to bed alone, and assumes you joined her at some point. Assume ain’t dick. So let’s start this over. Your place or mine, it doesn’t mean a damn to me.”

  “How dare you!” He lost all color now, insult and temper robbing his cheeks. “If you think I’m going to stand here and be insulted, have the woman I love insulted by some two-bit dyke bitch cop—”

  “What’re you going to do about it? Take me out, like you took out Jacie Wooton and Lois Gregg? You’re going to find it tougher. I’m not a used up LC or a sixty-year-old woman.”

  His voice piped out now, like an adolescent boy’s threatening to crack. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Couldn’t get it up, could you, Leo?” She was careful to keep her hands off him, though she’d have liked to have given him a couple of mild shots. “Even when you had her tied up, and helpless, you couldn’t get the wood on.”

  “Get away from me. You’re crazy.” Little darts of fear shone in his eyes now as he danced behind his desk. “You’re out of your mind.”

  “You’re going to see just how crazy if you don’t tell me where you were on the night of September second, and the morning of September fifth. Shuffle me again, Leo,” she said and slapped her hands on the desk. “And you’ll see how crazy.”

  On cue, her ’link beeped. With a snarl, she ripped it out of her pocket. “Text only,” she snapped. Waited a few beats as if reading. “Goddamn it.” She muttered it, then rounded on Peabody. “Get the goddamn information from this asshole. I’ve got to take this, and I don’t have time to waste. Five minutes, Leo,” she said over her shoulder as she marched to the door. “Then I’m coming back for the next round.”

  He sat heavily when the door slammed behind Eve. “That woman is a menace. She was going to strike me.”

  “Sir. I’m sure you’re mistaken.” But Peabody cast an uncertain eye toward the door still shuddering on its hinges. “My lieutenant is . . . it’s been a difficult few days, Mr. Fortney, and Lieutenant Dallas is under a great deal of stress. I’m sorry she lost her temper. Can I get you some water?”

  “No. No, thank you.” He pressed a hand to his brow. “I just need to settle down. I’m not used to being treated that way.”

  “She’s very colorful.” Peabody tried a half smile when he looked up. “I’m sure we can straighten this all out before she gets back. There were some discrepancies in your earlier statement, sir. It’s easy to get confused or mix up times and dates when you’re not expecting to have to remember your movements.”

  “Well, of course it is,” he said with obvious relief. “I certainly wasn’t expecting to be questioned about a murder. For God’s sake.”

  “I understand that. And it seems to me if you’d killed Ms. Wooton or Ms. Gregg, you’d have arranged a solid alibi. You’re obviously an intelligent man.”

  “Thank you, Officer . . .”

  “It’s Peabody, sir. If I could take out my notebook, we could try to put things together for the times in question.” She smiled at him with whiffs of sympathy and nerves. “May I sit down?”

  “Yes, yes. That woman’s shaken my manners loose. I don’t see how you stand to work with her.”

  “It’s really for her, sir. I’m in training.”

  “I see.” He was relaxing, Peabody could see. Just as she could see his amusement at thinking he’d escaped the lion and gotten himself a pussycat. “Have you been with the police long?”

  “Not very. I do mostly administrative work. The lieutenant hates paperwork.” She started to roll her eyes, seemed to catch herself and worked up a blush.

  Fortney laughed. “Your secret’s safe with me. Still, I wonder what an attractive woman like you is doing in such a difficult field?”

  “Men still outnumber women on the job,” she heard herself saying, and felt the quick, flirtatious smile curve her lips. “That can be a pretty strong incentive. I’d just like to say how much I admire your work. I’m such a fan of musical theater, and you’ve been involved in wonderful projects. It seems so glamorous and exciting to someone like me.”

  “It has its moments. Maybe you’d like me to give you a tour of the theater, backstage, where the action really is.”

  “That would be . . .” She trailed off breathlessly. “I’d just love it.” She glanced back at the door again. “I’m not supposed to do something like that. You won’t say anything?”

  He mimed zipping his lip and made her giggle.

  “If I can just clear up some of these discrepancies before she gets back. Otherwise, she’ll skin me.”

  “Sweetheart, you can’t really believe I’d kill anyone.”

  “Oh no, Mr. Fortney, but the lieutenant . . .”

  He got up from the desk, came around, and sat on the corner of it. “I’m not interes
ted in the lieutenant. The fact is, Pepper and I . . . well, our relationship has devolved, you could say. We’re really just business partners at this point, keeping up appearances for the public. I don’t want anything to damage her while she’s working so hard in this play. I have a great deal of affection and respect for her even though . . . even though things aren’t what they were between us.”

  He gave Peabody a puppy dog look, and she did her best to respond with one of sympathy. Even as she thought: Putz. Do I look that green? “It must be awfully hard for you.”

  “Show business is a demanding mistress, on both sides of the curtain. I did tell nearly the truth about that night. I didn’t mention that Pepper and I didn’t really speak or have contact with each other when she came back from the theater. I spent that night as I’ve spent far too many of them. Alone.”

  “So you have no one to corroborate your whereabouts?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t, not directly, though Pepper and I were in the same house together all night. It was just another lonely night, and to be frank, they blur together now. I wonder, maybe you and I could have dinner?”

  “Ummm . . .”

  “Privately,” he added. “I can’t be seen having dinner with a beautiful woman while Pepper and I still have to keep up this pretense. Gossip would hurt her, and she’s so temperamental. She needs to focus on the play. I have to honor that.”

  “That’s so . . .” The words that ran through her head were anything but flattering, but she choked out an alternative. “. . . so brave. I’d love to, if I can get the time off. These murders have the lieutenant working practically 24/7. And when she works, I work.”

  “Murders.” For a moment he looked genuinely puzzled. “Is that what all this business about this Gregg person is? Another prostitute’s been killed?”

  “There was another attack,” Peabody evaded. “It would help me out a lot if you could tell me where you were Sunday morning, between eight and noon. That would cover you, and I could probably smooth things out with Lieutenant Dallas so she won’t bother you again.”

  She tried a simper, but didn’t think it was her best look.

  “Sunday morning? Sleeping the sleep of the just until tenish. I indulge myself on Sundays. Pepper would have been up and out early. Dance class, she never misses. I would have had a light brunch, lingered over the Sunday paper. I doubt I was even dressed until noon.”

  “And alone again?”

  He gave a sad, crooked smile. “Afraid so. Pepper would have gone directly to the theater after class. Sunday matinee. I did go to the club, but not until at least one. For a swim, a steam, a massage.” He lifted his hands, let them fall. “I’m afraid I did nothing of any interest all day. Now, if I’d had a companion. Someone . . . simpatico . . . we’d have taken a leisurely drive in the country, stopped at some charming little inn for a champagne lunch, and whiled away our Sunday in a much more entertaining fashion. As it is, I have nothing but work, illusion, and solitude.”

  “Could you tell me the name of your club? Then I can give Lieutenant Dallas something solid.”

  “I use the Gold Key, on Madison.”

  “Thanks.” She rose. “I’ll see if I can head her off.”

  He took Peabody’s hand, looking into her eyes as he brought it to his lips. “Dinner?”

  “It sounds mag. I’ll contact you as soon as I know when I’m clear.” She hoped she had one more blush in her. “Leo,” she said shyly.

  She hurried out and straight to where Eve stood with her ’link. “I can’t break character yet,” Peabody reported. “He might ask one of his bimbos what went on out here, so you should look annoyed and doubtful, and like you could ream my ass at any moment.”

  “Fine. Then I don’t have to break character either as that’s the one I walk around in on a daily basis.”

  “He’s a total sleaze, and he doesn’t have a solid for either murder. Hard for me to see somebody that slimy being our guy, but he’s not covered.”

  She looked down at her shoes, studying the shine, and hoping the body language looked subservient. “He also cheats on Pepper, regularly by my take. He hit on me, and it seemed like a natural rhythm. Guy’s got more tired lines than an afternoon soap and less talent at selling them.”

  “You hit back?”

  “Enough to keep the rhythm up, not enough to get me a reprimand should there be an official inquiry. Maybe you could stomp off to the elevator now. It’s getting hard to keep looking naive and subservient.”

  Eve obliged and timed it so Peabody barely had time to nip in with her before the doors shut. “I thought that was a good touch.”

  “Good thing my butt isn’t any bigger than it already is. He’s shifting his story for the night of the Wooton murder. Says he and Pepper are just business partners now, and keeping up the pretext of otherwise so there isn’t any negative publicity through the run of the play. Still says he was at home all night, though, and home all Sunday morning. Alone. The original Lonely Guy.”

  “What kind of moronic female falls for that crap?” Eve wondered.

  “Lots, I guess, depending on the delivery.” She moved her shoulders. “His wasn’t bad, actually. But it was too quick, and too obvious. Anyhow, he claims he went to the Gold Key on Madison about one on Sunday. I say he’s twinking at least one of those bimbos on the side. He’s not the type for an LC. Isn’t going to pay for it when he can bullshit and brag his way into it. And I’d say it’d be news to Pepper that they’re just business partners now. I’d also say he doesn’t think much of women as a species.”

  Go, Peabody, Eve thought, and leaned back against the elevator wall as her aide ran it through. “Thinks about them, because he probably imagines fucking any woman who’s remotely attractive. But he doesn’t like them. He kept calling you that woman. Never referred to you by name or rank. And there was a lot of passion in the way he said it.”

  “Good job.”

  “I don’t know that I found out anything really useful. Except now that I think about it, I can see him doing the murders.”

  “You found out he’s lying to his lover, and if he isn’t actively cheating—which he likely is—he’s open to cheating. You found out that he had the opportunity to commit both murders. So he’s a liar and a cheat. Doesn’t make him a murderer, but he’s a liar and a cheat with opportunity, with access to the stationery found at both crime scenes, and that he has an attitude toward women. That’s not bad for the day.”

  Carmichael Smith was in the studio—in New L.A.—so she gave him a pass for the day. She found Niles Renquist so heavily wrapped in red tape that she decided to do an end run around him and aim for his wife.

  The Renquists’ New York home wasn’t Breen’s upwardly mobile family neighborhood, or Carmichael’s trendy loft. It was all dignity and restrained grace in faded brick and tall windows.

  The entrance hall, where they were admitted with considerable reluctance and disapproval by a uniformed housekeeper who could have given Summerset a run for his money, was done in creams and burgundies and the subtle sheen of religiously polished antiques.

  Lilies, white and burgundy in a crystal vase, sat on a long narrow table along the staircase and scented the air. Along with it was an echoing hush she associated with empty houses or churches.

  “It’s like a museum,” Peabody said out of the corner of her mouth. “You and Roarke have all this cool, rich people stuff, but it’s different. People live there.”

  Before Eve could respond there was the female sound of heels on wood. People lived here, too, Eve thought, but she had a feeling they were a different type altogether.

  The woman who walked toward them was as beautiful, as dignified, and as quietly elegant as the home she’d made. Her hair was a soft blonde, carefully coiffed into a short bob that caught the light. Her face was pale and creamy, with a hint of rose on cheeks and lips. This one, Eve thought, never left the house without sunscreen, top to toe. She wore wide-legged pants, killer heels, and a blousy s
hirt with a faint sheen, all in cream.

  “Lieutenant Dallas.” There was a high-toned drift of England in her voice, and the hand she offered was cool. “Pamela Renquist. I’m sorry, but I’m expecting company shortly. If you’d contacted my secretary, I’m sure we could have arranged an appointment at a more convenient time.”

  “Then I’ll try to keep the inconvenience short.”

  “If this is about the stationery, your time would be of more use speaking with my secretary. She handles the bulk of my correspondence.”

  “Did you buy the stationery, Mrs. Renquist?”

  “Quite possibly.” Her face never changed, held its mildly pleasant expression as she spoke with the kind of undiluted politeness Eve always found insulting. “I enjoy shopping when in London, but I rarely keep track of every little purchase. We certainly have the paper, so it hardly matters if I bought it myself, or Niles, or one of our assistants made the purchase for us. I was under the impression my husband had discussed this with you.”

  “He did. There is considerable repetition and overlap in a homicide investigation. Could you tell me where you and your husband were on the night—”

  “We were precisely where Niles has already told you we were on the night of that unfortunate person’s murder.” Her tone became frigid and dismissive. “My husband is a very busy man, Lieutenant, and I know he’s already taken the time to speak with you regarding this matter. I have nothing to add to what he’s already told you, and I’m expecting guests.”

  Not so fast, sweetheart. “I haven’t yet spoken to your husband regarding a second murder. I’d like you to tell me where you both were on Sunday, between eight and noon.”

  For the first time since the woman had walked down the hall, she looked flustered. It was momentary, just a slight heightening of color on that creamy skin, a slight frown around the rosy mouth. Then it was smooth and pale again.

  “I find this very tedious, Lieutenant.”