Lily threw back her head and chewed on her lip. “Well, it would certainly create a shit storm down the hallway here. You never saw two grown men—my brother and my uncle—try to adopt anyone so quickly.”
“Tell me about it,” I said.
“You’ll have to talk to David,” Lily said. “He’s the one my father told.”
“The detectives will of course interview David. But every second counts in this investigation,” I said. “Give them the general strokes.”
Lily stared up at the ceiling for a full minute before speaking. “It was about two months ago, early in September. David got a call from my father, who asked him to stay in town for dinner to discuss a project with him.”
“Which one?” Mike asked.
“The project was next week’s show at the Met. Not the Costume Institute, but Monday night’s launch of the new collection.”
“The big one.”
“Exactly,” Lily said. “My father was thrilled about next week. That’s one of the reasons I told Alex I was suspicious about his suicide.”
“What did your father tell David?” Mike said.
“I knew from the time I’d been spending with my dad that he was under all this pressure to sell the lion’s share of the business to a Chinese entrepreneur.”
“George Kwan?”
“Yes. Kwan Enterprises,” Lily said. “He didn’t let on to me how troubled he was about it. That he feared losing control altogether, so he was trying to put off finalizing anything till after next week.”
“Why did he suddenly pick this point in time to choose David as a confidant?” I asked.
“You’ll meet David,” Lily said. “He’s such a great guy, and my father was obviously trying to get out from under the competing forces of my brother, Reed, and my uncle Hal. He had come to trust David.”
“What did he want from your husband?” Mike said.
“My father wanted David to put together a consortium or a group to make a counteroffer to the Kwans. He figured that was the kind of thing a private equity firm could do,” Lily said. She sighed and then looked straight at Mike. “My father asked David to stake him the money. A lot of money.”
“How come you didn’t tell me this when we met the other day?” I asked.
“Money wasn’t the first thing on my mind, Alex. I’d just learned my father was dead,” Lily said. “And David didn’t give me the full story until last night—after the medical examiner told us he had been killed. Murdered.”
Mike held up his hand toward my face to stop me from interrupting his questioning of Lily Savitsky.
“How much money did your father ask David for?”
She had started in biting another nail. “Two million dollars.”
“Sweet Jesus,” Mike said. “What the hell for?”
I knew why. Tiziana Bolt had told me that Kwan Enterprises would never underwrite a fashion show for that much money. I suspected that was true—certainly not without a signed deal with Wolf Savage. They wanted him to front the money himself.
“Because that’s what it is going to cost to put on a show like this at the Temple of Dendur,” Lily said. “One million just to rent the space, another half a million for the gowns and the models. Then you start with the kickbacks.”
“Kickbacks?” Mike asked.
“David says that in this business, everyone alive gets a kickback for doing what they do, from the promoters to the caterers. It’s the nature of the beast.”
“When did David become an expert in the fashion industry?”
Lily tried to conceal her sneer. “His firm has worked in this area before. They’ve done turnarounds on some of the smaller brands. Nothing as big as WolfWear, but all names you—well, maybe Alex—would recognize.”
“That lack of high-fashion experience didn’t stop him from being long on advice, did it?” Mike asked.
“No, it didn’t. Not when my father needed help.”
“Did David come up with the two million?”
“He wasn’t planning on withdrawing it from his bank account, Detective. We’re not in that league,” Lily said. “He raised it with his partners.”
I was beginning to see the light. “David was willing to raise the money because he wanted his company’s fund to do exactly what Kwan Enterprises wanted to do. Buy the business up—but at a greater discount—and let your father keep his dignity. Then David and his partners would still find some third-world operation to do the supply-chain work to make cheaper clothes.”
Mike’s hands were on his hips—a sure sign that he was annoyed—but he didn’t stop me.
“I—I don’t know exactly,” Lily said. “That’s why I told you to talk to him.”
“I can see what was in it for your father,” I said. “Truly, I can. A more favorable offer with someone he had every reason to trust. But what else was in it for David?”
Lily was down to her hangnails now.
“Is that where the conversation about the new will came in?” Mercer asked. “Was that whole thing your husband’s idea?”
“David only wanted what was best for me, best for our children.”
“Does he know whether your father ever had a new will drafted?” Mike asked. “Does he know the name of the lawyer?”
She shook her head, fighting back tears. “No. But my father promised David that he would get it done before—well, before next week.”
“And in exchange, David’s firm coughed up the two million,” Mike said.
“Why did you come here today?” I asked. “What if Reed and Hal figure out that there was a quid pro quo for the big show to go on? They’ll have every reason to turn on you.”
“I’d rather hide in plain sight, Alex.”
“They’ll know every step you take,” I said.
“And I’ll keep my eyes on them, too.”
“What’s David up to today?” Mike asked. “Where’s he?”
“Look, before you go making David seem like the bad guy,” she said, turning to Mike, “I didn’t know about this Tanya Root woman. I didn’t know I had a sister—well, a half-sister from one of my father’s serial affairs—until yesterday. It’s quite a shock.”
“But Tanya was disinherited by Wolf,” Mike said. “He specifically cut her out of the will. What does she have to do with any of this business between you and your father? Why are you pointing a finger at her?”
“Just suppose for a minute that Tanya was also trying to get my father to change his will. Not because she wanted to help him, not because she wanted to be involved in his life and his business—but just to get money out of him.”
“That assumes,” I said, “that they were still in touch with each other. That she knew—or found out—he was her father and that she had been in communication with him.”
“Then suppose she was the one who was blackmailing him, pressuring him to change his will?” she asked.
“We don’t have to suppose anything, Lily,” Mike said, leaning both his hands on the desk to get closer to her. “That ‘blackmail’ word you’re using—it’s just a guess? Because if you’ve got the patience to wait this out, we’ll have a subpoena for every phone call and email and text that ever went out from your father to any one of you in the last year. It’ll get worse before it ever gets better.”
“You think I’m holding back something from you?” Lily asked. “This Tanya Root person is a complete mystery to David and me. Whether there’s a new will that surfaces and proves to be valid makes no difference to me. My father had already included me in this will.”
“Really? The one you just finished telling us was unfair?” Mike said. “Can’t have it both ways.”
Lily Savitsky snapped. She clenched her fists and pounded them on the desktop. “Are you satisfied, Detective Chapman? Can you tell that I’m scared?”
“That’s the first thing you’ve said that I understand one hundred percent. Somebody killed your sister, and quite possibly your father, too, right?” Mike said. “Mos
t likely their murders are connected. You should be scared.”
“That’s rough, Mike,” I said, stepping between Mike and the desk. “Let’s all take it down a notch.”
“You think I could be next, don’t you?” Lily asked.
“Me?” Mike said. “I think you’re safe, actually. You’re safe for as long as you’re a suspect in those two murders.”
THIRTY
“What did you mean by that?” I asked Mike.
Once Lily pulled herself together, she left the room to freshen up.
“Just what I said, Coop. You can’t tell me the two crimes aren’t connected.”
“I’m with you on that.”
“Maybe the killer is different in each case, but this is a family affair—either way, it’s a father and his daughter who were murdered, whether for personal or business reasons. And as long as the killer, or killers, if Lily is not involved, think that she is a likely suspect—for financial gain and a bigger piece of the will—then she isn’t going to be in danger,” Mike said. “That’s because the killer is likely figuring that Lily might take the fall.”
“Phew. That’s an ugly thought.”
“But a real one.”
“Different killers?” I asked.
“I’m keeping an open mind. I’m willing to consider—I’m just saying consider—that Tanya Root was looking for something from Wolf Savage. Something that he wasn’t willing or able to do.”
“Give her money,” Mercer said.
“Could be that. Could be she wanted into the family business, which also meant money. We won’t know that until we find out more about her.”
“But it makes you think she could have gotten in the old man’s way,” Mercer said, “at a very inopportune moment.”
“Right. His day in the sun, with both the Costume Institute exhibition and the Met fashion show. The last thing he needed was someone threatening to upend his life.”
“Enough to kill her?” I asked.
“I doubt this was a hands-on job, Coop. But if Wolf Savage was desperate, he had the means to make someone disappear.”
“If that’s your theory, then someone else killed him,” Mercer said. “That’s your ‘different killers’ scenario.”
“But then you’ve got Reed and Hal and Lily,” Mike said, “all three of them in precarious positions vis-à-vis Wolf. Now there are three people who each have a motive to get rid of Tanya, if she was pressuring him to change his will in her favor. And the same three people who have reasons to do him in, too.”
Mike was pacing around the room. He stopped at the door, which was closed. Taped to it was a list—enlarged, bolded, and in all caps. He began reading aloud.
RUNWAY PERFORMANCE RULES—WOLF SAYS:
NO SMILING
NO DANCING
NO EYE CONTACT WITH AUDIENCE
NO FAST MOVEMENTS
NO SLOW MOVEMENTS
DO NOT BE STIFF
DO NOT BE CASUAL
BE NEUTRAL
BE CALM
BE STOICAL
STOP AT THE END OF RUNWAY FOR THE CAMERA
DO NOT LOOK AT THE CAMERA
“Is this what I think it is?” Mike asked.
“Yes,” I said, looking over his shoulder at the list that contained at least twenty additional instructions. “Runway rules for his models.”
“That’s a crazy lot of rules for those broads. Makes me think—”
Mike’s thought was interrupted as the door opened, striking him in the shoulder. Hal Savage barged in.
“We’re trying to run a business here,” he said as Mike stepped back. “What is it now? Why don’t you people call and make appointments?”
“Actually, I tried to find you yesterday afternoon,” Mike said. “Didn’t your secretary tell you?”
“That was yesterday,” Hal said. “Can you put this off for a week? Give us time to honor my brother on Monday?”
“Some of what we need to know will wait. I’m sure you must be grateful we got in your way at the morgue,” Mike said.
“Grateful?” Hal said, missing the obvious sarcasm in Mike’s tone. “The one I’m grateful to is Lily. Murder was never part of the picture, in my mind. I owe her a lot for alerting you people to the possibility.”
“Would you have twenty minutes for us right now? Then we’ll get out of your hair,” Mike said. “Why don’t we go down to your office? There’s more room, and we don’t need Lily to be in on this.”
“We can get this done here,” Hal said, crossing his arms and standing his ground.
“Twenty minutes. C’mon. There are things you wouldn’t want me to go into in front of Lily,” Mike said. “Things about the business. Kwan Enterprises and—well, her husband, David.”
“Okay, okay. I’m throwing you out after that,” he said, tapping on his watch face.
We followed him down the corridor, our small parade attracting the attention of all the worker bees in their glass-enclosed hives. In the short space of the last two days, the Wolf Savage sign on the door had been replaced with Hal’s nameplate.
The room was now cluttered with racks of clothes—some of them appeared to be the new line ready to launch—and some looked like vintage WolfWear. They were probably arrayed for the final selection for Monday night’s show.
Mercer, Mike, and I sat down across from Hal Savage.
“I’m shocked,” he said, sitting down and holding his fingers against his forehead. “Did I say that yet? I’m just shocked by the medical examiner’s news.”
There was nothing about the man that sounded sincere. It was as though he realized he had missed a stage cue to express to us the impact of yesterday’s news.
“What shocked you?” Mike asked.
“That Wolf was murdered, of course. I’m reeling from that. I’ll do anything to help you find the killer.”
“I’m counting on you for that,” Mike said. “How about the rest of the story? Any surprises there?”
He looked up and put his hands down. “The dead girl? Tanya Root?”
“Yeah.”
“I knew about Tanya. I’ve known about her since she was born,” Hal said. “I didn’t realize she was back in my brother’s life. I swear it. I was sure he’d paid her off to disappear years ago.”
“Tell me the story.”
Hal Savage glanced in my direction.
“She’s heard it all,” Mike said. “Go on.”
“My brother had a problem his whole life. The kind of guy who couldn’t keep it in his pants,” Hal said. “Reed’s mother—that was a marriage that was expected of him by the family. By the time the boy was conceived, Wolf was on the prowl. She found out about it and cut him off. Never let him back in their bedroom.”
“He left her for Lily’s mother?”
“Yes. He was making a good living, although why he pretended he could be monogamous was beyond me. I liked Lily’s mother,” he said, shaking his head. “I have a real fondness for my niece, too. But Wolf was out of there while she was still a toddler. He never treated the kid right.”
“You had no way to influence that?” I asked. “I mean, you’re the CFO. It sounds like Lily had great credentials, with her business-school degree, to work with both of you. You didn’t ever go to bat for her, did you?”
“My brother didn’t want to hear about it,” he said, waving his hand at me. “She’s here now, isn’t she? What’s the complaint?”
“Yeah,” Mike said. “Why is she here now? What’s that about?”
“Mending fences, maybe. Making up for my brother’s sins.”
“You okay with Lily’s husband?”
“David?” Hal said. “Ambitious kid. But not a problem for me.”
“Who’s your vote for now?” Mike asked. “I mean, if the company needs a bailout. George Kwan, or David Kingsley and his firm?”
“You’re wasting precious minutes, Detective. I’m walking a tightrope this week,” Hal said. “Give me a while to sort this out. David put up the
money for the show. That was Wolf’s idea. Now I’m left with my brother’s bad decisions and Kwan Enterprises breathing down my neck. I can’t answer you on that one today.”
“I think we sidetracked you from Tanya Root,” Mercer said. “Go back to her.”
“Sure. Sure, I will,” Hal said. “Wolf married a third time, to the woman who raised Reed. It was during the period when he lived in London, trying to get his business started in Europe. Nice lady. She put up with a lot. He parked Reed over there with her, and came back to New York.
“This was the right business for a guy who’s basically a hound, Detective,” Hal went on. “I hope you’ll excuse me, Ms. Cooper.”
I nodded at him.
“It’s one thing to work in Brooklyn making black hats for Hasidic men. Kind of limits your exposure to temptation. But once my brother got onto Seventh Avenue, he was like a kid in a candy store.”
“Women?”
“Young women, especially. Models, wannabe models, designers, design students. He had an eye for the girls, and with his third wife and kid tucked away across the ocean, he indulged himself. Good-looking ladies, drugs like you wouldn’t believe—and then—boom! The megasuccess that provided the money to enjoy it all.”
“Is that when he met Tanya’s mother?”
“I can’t tell you that exactly,” Hal said. “I’d figure Tanya to be around thirty years old. Go far enough back in the newspaper archives and there are probably photographs of Wolf with her mother.”
“Was she a model?”
“For a nanosecond. Yeah.”
“African?”
“Here’s the thing, Detective. For whatever reason, Wolf was usually attracted to women of color.” Hal was looking over at Mercer now, as though seeking his approval. “Whatever it was, he’s one of the people most responsible for putting black women on the high-fashion runway. Sure, a few of the big-name designers did it with supermodels like Iman and Beverly Johnson, but Wolf started more young women of color in their careers than any ten hotshots you can name.”
“But he was taking advantage of them at the same time?” I asked.
Hal Savage didn’t pretend to hide his annoyance with me. “You call that taking advantage of them? He wasn’t forcing any of them to do things they weren’t willing to do. Everybody benefitted from it, seems to me.”
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