Swann Songs (The Boston Uncommon Mysteries Book 4)

by Arlene Kay

  Sorrel nodded. “We . . . I . . . have a small terrace that adjoins them. Sonia—she loved it there. The flowers, you know. She was always out among them weeding and pruning. Such a perfectionist.”

  Anika took his hands and squeezed them. “I understand how you feel. That tintype of her is an extraordinary tribute. You`ve captured her exactly.”

  Sorrel swallowed and met Anika’s eyes. “You`re very kind. Would you like a tour of the house? It was very special to Sonia and to me.”

  Anika nodded, and I seized the opportunity to horn in on their tour.

  “Mind if I join you? I love viewing homes. It gives insight into a person in a way that other research seldom does.”

  “Oh, yes,” Anika said. “I forgot about the book. Eja has a title for it, did you know that?”

  Sorrel’s eyes widened, and he looked bewildered.

  “Everything`s very tentative,” I said. “My publisher has the final word on titles. Anyhow, I`m calling it A Passion for Cause. Seems like that covers both Sonia and Duff.”

  Sorrel flashed another sad smile and led us through the kitchen to a back stairwell. Thankfully Deming was stopped in his tracks by a word from Bolin. This mission required a deft touch rather than an inquisition. It was more spiritual odyssey than public event.

  “Sonia didn`t cook much,” Sorrel said. He laughed as though it were a familiar joke.

  “And you?” Anika asked.

  He shrugged in that self-deprecating manner I now found off-putting. As the evening progressed, what had originally appeared to be humility seemed more like a well-honed charade.

  “Actually I`m a pretty fair cook,” Sorrel said. “I enjoy it. Challenges the artistic side of me I suppose.”

  The kitchen was fully equipped with top of the line appliances: Sub-Zero fridge, Wolf stove, and Viking cook top. My culinary skills are limited, but my appreciation of stainless steel beauty abounds.

  Sorrel pointed to the staircase. “Two suites are upstairs, mine and the guest space.”

  Anika was too well bred to ask where Sonia slept, so it was left to me.

  “May I see Sonia’s room?” I asked. “If it`s not too painful for you.”

  He flashed that mystic smile again. “She had her own quarters downstairs. It was intended as an au pair suite, but Sonia loved the independence of it, especially the separate exit to the street. She had a feline quality to her, that girl. Sonia belonged to no one but herself.”

  Anika nodded. “I`ve always admired that about cats. You can`t buy their love, and you never really tame them. Fascinating creatures.”

  “Exactly.” Sorrel and Anika exchanged soulful glances.

  I had long suspected that Sonia and Sorrel had a Heloise and Abelard relationship going on. All poems and romance, no sex, the ennobling but frustrating passion of courtly love. Poor Abelard had been castrated, so his options were limited. Of course considering his own physical disability, Sorrel wasn`t much better off. Apparently he compensated for it by serving Sonia in every other way.

  I felt Anika’s elbow jab my side and looked up. Sorrel had obviously asked me something important.

  “Sorry. I was daydreaming.”

  “Her room,” he said, pointing to the lower level. “Please feel free to experience it. I`ve left everything untouched. Just as it was that last day.”

  I scurried down the stairs before he changed his mind. Suddenly this home felt more like a mausoleum than a charming showplace. Sonia’s space was a luxurious three-room suite complete with fireplace and dressing room. All the furnishings were exquisitely made and artfully presented. The living room rivaled the salons in Versailles—filled with Louis XVI décor, antique settees in muted shades of blue and gold, and mirrors—many more than an ordinary home would have. I suspected that all of them had been designed to reflect Sonia’s special beauty. She and Marie Antoinette—both outrageous beauties with an edge had shared a similar fate, but at least Sonia died with her head intact.

  I expected to find a home office with the detritus common to all writers, however the only trace of her work life was on the exquisite bureau plat in a far corner. Sonia’s laptop and iPad were lonely sentinels keeping watch over the empty blotter. There were no files or reference materials in sight, not even a printer. Just a whiff of her signature scent still lingering in the air.

  I stepped forward to admire the marble fireplace surround with its elaborately carved mantel. Photographs of all sizes in lovely silver frames hugged the stone contours, vying for pride of place. Sonia’s face dominated all of them along with a cast of characters both famous and obscure. Oddly enough only Sorrel was unaccounted for. Was that omission deliberate or coincidental? Could a man be content to stand forever in the shadows?

  Her bedroom was a further extension of the shrine. Personal effects—even her hairbrush and comb—littered every surface in the place. When it came to cosmetics, hair products, and creams, Sonia’s stash rivaled or exceeded CeCe`s. It made no sense to me, but then I lacked the makeup gene. My morning routine was so basic that it bored even me.

  I was no closer to finding the real Sonia than I had been before. Her possessions were remote and expensive, things that demanded admiration without yielding anything in return. Much like the personality of Sonia herself.

  When I returned to the main level, I found Sorrel and Anika huddled on the landing, speaking quietly.

  Sorrel turned to me with a rueful smile on his face. “Well, Ms. Kane. Did you unlock all her secrets?”

  I shook my head. “Not a one. She`s still a mystery.”

  “A glorious puzzle,” he said. “Always withholding the final clues.”

  “One thing surprised me,” I said. “Most novelists have tons of material—books, notes, file cabinets—but Sonia’s area is pristine. Those beautiful bookshelves were virtually empty.”

  Anika remained silent, but her bright hazel gaze saw everything.

  Sorrel grimaced. “She tidied up after finishing Worm. I have the drafts and outlines in the upstairs office. We shared that space most of the time.” Once again his voice shook with the pain of intolerable loss. “Duff was a constant visitor, you know, especially during the editing stages of the book. Nadia and Zarina too.” He pressed his hand to his forehead as if to sweep away pain and memory. “Oh, my. I`ve been a poor host. Shall we rejoin the others?”

  “You still intend to publish Worm then?” Anika glanced at Sorrel quizzically as she linked arms with him.

  “Of course. Sonia would have insisted on it. That way her name will live on.” His face glowed as he spoke her name. Frankly, I couldn`t decide if that was touching or just plain creepy.

  We reached the living room in time to witness a scuffle between Nadia and Melanie Hunt. Voices rose, tempers flared, and quite unexpectedly Nadia flung herself at Melanie’s throat.

  “You bitch! Take that back.”

  Melanie’s glacial stare never faltered as she faced her adversary. “Make me.”

  Bolin moved with a panther`s grace to avert bloodshed. In a flash, Deming was at his father`s side, forming an elegant human shield that separated the combatants. Gabriel hesitated, arms outstretched, seemingly torn between the two Furies. The least active participant was Fess Paskert, who sat helplessly with his mouth hanging open like a gaffed fish.

  Sorrel finally asserted himself by loudly clearing his throat. “Pardon me, everyone. As friends of Sonia and Duff, I know we can put aside our differences and unite at least for an evening.”

  Zarina went to his side and poured balm on troubled waters. “We have so many happy memories to share. Let`s focus on that.”

  Despite some grumbling and sour looks, war was averted and an uneasy truce brokered. Gabriel comforted his wife while keeping a weather eye on both his lover and employer. He`d been there many times before. Teet
ering on the verge of extinction was familiar territory for a man with a wandering eye and a galloping ego.

  Time was slipping away, so when I spied Nadia standing alone near the buffet table, I decided to act quickly. Stealth was an important component of my plan. If Nadia raised the alarm, Zarina would gallop to her side, and that simply would not do. Truthfully, the older woman cowed me. I giggled thinking of the play on words. Cowed by the high priestess of COWE. Go figure.

  “What`s so funny, Ms. Kane?” Deming put his arm around me before I could escape.

  “Nothing much. Hey, why not put those muscles to use for a change. While I confront Nadia, go distract Zarina. She`s been eyeing you all evening.”

  He grunted and clutched his throat. “Great sales job. Remind me to keep you away from my clients.”

  I dipped into my limited store of feminine wiles. “Please. You`ll get your reward tonight if you do. There`s a love scene in my book with your name on it, big boy.” I raised my eyebrows in an exaggerated leer.

  Deming stroked his dimpled chin. “Hmm. Might be worth it after all. Okay. I`ll take you at your word. Just don`t blame me if she makes a pass.” He glided over to Zarina and immediately captured her full attention.

  The field was finally clear for my tête-à-tête with Nadia. I slipped up behind her and tapped her shoulder.

  “We have to talk.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  NADIA PINSKY CLUTCHED her throat and hunkered back against the wall like a cornered mouse. Her antics aroused my most primal instincts: instead of pity I felt naked aggression and a sense of euphoria.

  “I didn`t mean any harm,” she whimpered. “Lieutenant Keegan knows that.”

  “Oh, really? Sorry just doesn`t cut it this time. I`m not in a forgiving mood and neither is my husband.” I snapped my fingers. “One word from him, and Fess Paskert will end your scholarship at Concord forever. Felony convictions don`t enhance a person`s CV, I`m told.”

  She scrunched her eyes together and produced two fat tears. “What more can I do? COWE agreed to pay for the damages.”

  I kept a weather eye on Deming and Zarina as our conversation progressed. No sense in being trampled by a rampaging pachyderm defending her young.

  “Be honest with me. Come clean. You know much more about these murders than you`re willing to admit.”

  Nadia sensed an escape route and was smart enough to go for it. “What? I`ll tell you anything.”

  I sighed. Frankly, I wasn`t equipped to sustain a bad guy persona much longer. Menace was a tedious charade for a timid writer with a sensitive side. Pamela Schwartz—she lived to intimidate, and Deming himself was no slouch. Maybe it was a lawyer thing.

  “Why tell Paskert that Sonia was tipsy the day that she died? It wasn`t true. You told me that you never even saw her.”

  Nadia blanched. “I didn`t tell him that. Honest.”

  “So, Dr. Paskert is a liar?”

  I recognized the trapped-rodent look in Nadia’s eyes. The girl told so many lies that she couldn`t separate truth from fiction.

  She shook her head. “I was afraid—for Gabriel. I saw Sonia in the ladies` room, and she told me.”

  I fought the urge to slap her silly. According to Deming, Swanns were prime targets for lawsuits by the under classes. Why encourage the trend?

  “What did she tell you, Nadia?”

  Instead of answering she hiccupped, a transparent diversion at best.

  “I`m waiting.” I folded my arms and produced a stony stare.

  “She planned to destroy him. She told me that!” Nadia’s voice edged up the screech scale. “Sonia had something on him and was going to use it.”

  “What did you do?” I asked.

  The room temperature was a perfect seventy-two degrees, but Nadia shivered violently. “I tried. I begged Sonia to reconsider, but she didn`t care. Even when I said I was carrying Gabriel’s son.”

  “Pregnant!” The word hung in the air like a noxious cloud. I stared at her suspiciously slim body. “Are you certain?”

  She nodded. “When Sonia heard that she exploded. Honest, Ms. Kane, her whole face changed. I ran right out of the restroom and back to my desk. I was too scared to move the rest of the day.”

  Some things never change. Gabriel Mann already fathered two daughters with two different women. Had he never heard of the three strikes law, population control, or vasectomies?

  “Does his wife know?” I recalled the murderous gleam in Melanie Hunt’s eyes when she mentioned Sonia. Her reaction to Nadia’s bombshell would be volcanic. I`d been there myself with the promiscuous Dr. Mann.

  “She will. She doesn`t appreciate him, and they don`t even have sex.” Nadia thrust out her chin. “Gabriel’s waiting for the right moment to tell her. After he gets tenure and all.”

  Suddenly my anger dissipated, replaced with pity and a touch of sorrow. Despite her worldly pose, Nadia was hopelessly naïve. She had fallen hook, line, and sinker for the oldest trick in the male playbook. Even now her eyes were aglow with hope for a situation fraught with heartbreak.

  “You intend to go through with it then?” I couldn`t say the word even as I thought it to myself.

  “Of course. Sonia Reyes was a bitter old hag who couldn`t give him a son. I can.”

  As a hag of the same age as Sonia, I bristled at that. Still, Nadia’s words were poisoned darts piercing my own sense of well-being. Was some younger woman saying the same thing about me and Deming? Would my husband seek greener pastures if it were true?

  “Who knows about this?”

  Nadia tossed her head. “Nobody.”

  I didn`t believe her. Pregnancy was too big a secret to keep, especially for a young woman in love.

  “Really?”

  She moistened her lips, a sure sign of duplicity. “Just Zarina, but she wouldn`t tell anyone.”

  That old saying popped into my mind: Two can keep a secret, if one of them is dead. Had Sonia paid the price for learning Gabriel’s secret?

  “How far along are you?” Nadia’s garb was loose, but that was the current style even for hags of a certain age like me.

  She splayed her legs in a defiant pose. “Far enough along for a sonogram. I showed it to Sonia, and she almost puked.”

  Her tale of maternal bliss didn`t ring true. Nadia the charming sprite had morphed into a fire-breathing Chimera right before my eyes. The window of opportunity was closing fast, and it might not open again. I noticed Zarina casting worried glances our way despite the distractions offered by my charming spouse.

  “You actually carry a sonogram with you at all times, even to the bathroom? That`s implausible, Nadia.” I folded my arms and scowled. “Come on. What really happened?”

  “I told you.”

  Straight away she hunched forward and started bawling. Lusty, full-throated sobs, nothing ladylike about them. We soon became the center of attention and the focus of a very determined savior named Zarina. She stalked our way, arms swinging, with Deming trailing in her wake. Meanwhile Melanie Hunt swiveled `round, following every minute of the drama. The smug expression on her face convinced me that she knew all about it.

  Zarina held out her arms and scooped Nadia up. “Leave her be, Ms. Kane. Can`t you see how upset she is?”

  Deming stepped to my side, glowering. “My wife and I are the aggrieved parties here. Spare me your platitudes.”

  Zarina recalibrated and whispered something in Nadia’s ear. “Can we discuss this privately? Please.” She pointed to a seating area near the fireplace.

  We followed her to the sofa. Nadia scooted toward the other side of the room where Fess Paskert soon arrived to keep her company. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him patting her arm and clucking like a denuded rooster.

  A pall of silence surrounded us as we took our
seats. It was a familiar tactic for Deming, but for a chatterbox like me it was agony. I bit my lip and counted to ten as a distraction. Zarina pasted a bland smile on her face and waited us out. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally spoke.

  “Nadia was wrong to deface your property, Mr. Swann. Believe me when I tell you that she meant no harm.”

  Deming spoke through gritted teeth. “She terrified my wife, especially since two people have been murdered. Every action has consequences. This one has legal penalties.”

  “I didn`t know she was pregnant,” I said. “Maybe that distorted her judgment.”

  “Pregnant! Whatever do you mean?” Zarina shed her professional detachment and gaped. “Nadia is not pregnant. Believe me, I would know.”

  Deming gave me a confused sideways glance but stayed silent.

  “Nadia is carrying Gabriel’s child. A boy. She just told me so.”

  Zarina steepled her fingers and sighed. “As you know, I am a therapist. Not Nadia’s therapist, just her friend. She`s a wonderful young woman but troubled.”

  “I`ll say,” Deming grunted.

  “Why would she make that up?” I asked. “She was so convincing.”

  “That`s part of her sickness,” Zarina said. “Nadia has a lively imagination and abandonment issues. She`s fixated on Dr. Mann. Wants him at any cost. The pregnancy is very real to her, and I`m sure she was only trying to protect him.”

  I could tell by the tension in Deming’s body that he was close to the boiling point. He leaned forward and spoke with the deceptive mildness that presaged an attack.

  “Delusional people can be dangerous, as I`m sure you know.”

  “Not Nadia,” Zarina said.

  “Perhaps, but I`m not willing to gamble with my wife`s safety. Think about it. Nadia was on the scene when Sonia died and apparently confronted her. You yourself admitted that she`s troubled. She may well have followed Sonia into her office and whacked her with that bust. Lieutenant Keegan needs to know that.”