Page 30 of Imitation in Death


  “No.” He wet his lips, and his breath shuddered through them. “No. You’ve got to be out of your mind. Out of your mind. I’m not talking to you anymore. I want a lawyer.”

  “Are you going to let me beat you, too, Tom? You gonna let some female cop beat you down? Once you call the lawyer, I win the round. Start whining lawyer, and I charge you with suspicion of murder in the first, two counts. Assault with intent, one count. I get to squeeze your balls blue, that is if you’ve still got balls to squeeze.”

  His breath hissed in and out, in and out in the silence that followed. And he turned his face from hers. “I don’t have anything else to say until I’ve consulted with my attorney.”

  “Looks like it’s my point then. This interview is ended to allow the subject to arrange for legal representation at his request. Record off. Peabody, arrange for the standard psych exam for Mr. Breen, and escort him to holding where he can contact his legal rep.”

  “Yes, sir. Mr. Breen?”

  He got shakily to his feet. “You think you’ve humiliated me,” he said to Eve. “You think you’ve broken me down. But you’re too damn late. Julietta already took care of that.”

  She waited until he’d gone out, then she walked over and stared at her own reflection in the mirror.

  Exhausted, she went back to her office. For once she couldn’t face the buzz of coffee and opted for water. Standing by her stingy window, she drank like a camel, and watched the air and street traffic.

  People came, people went, she observed. They didn’t know what the hell went on in here. Didn’t want to know. Just keep us safe—that was the bottom line when they gave the cops inside the building a passing thought. Just do your job and keep us safe. We don’t care how you do it, as long as it doesn’t spill over on us.

  “Lieutenant?”

  Eve continued to stare out the window. “You got him tucked?”

  “Yes, sir. He’s contacted the lawyer, and he’s clammed. He requested a second transmission, re child care. I, um, I authorized it, with supervision. He contacted the neighbor and asked if she could keep Jed for several more hours. Said he’d gotten tied up with something. He made no request to contact his wife.”

  Eve simply nodded.

  “You were pretty rough on him in there.”

  “Is that an observation or a complaint?”

  “An observation. I know you’re going to say I’m an investigative slut, but he’s starting to look good to me. The way you sprang knowledge of the wife’s affair on him, he never recovered from that.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “And pushing the LC angle. The way he fumbled it, denying any association, then breaking down and admitting it to prove to you he was still sexually capable.”

  “Yeah, that was stupid of him.”

  “You don’t sound too juiced about it.”

  “I’m tired. I’m just tired.”

  “Maybe you want to take a break before you wrap him up. The lawyer’s got to get here, do the consult. You’ve got an hour anyway if you want to grab a bunk.”

  Eve started to speak, started to turn, and Trueheart stepped in. “Excuse me, Lieutenant, but Pepper Franklin is here, wants to see you. I didn’t know if you wanted me to pass her through.”

  “Yeah, go ahead.”

  “Do you want me to sit in?” Peabody asked her when Trueheart left. “Or go baby-sit Breen?”

  “Fortney was your pick before you decided to be fickle. Let’s both hear what she has to say.”

  She walked to her desk, sat, and swiveled toward the door when Pepper entered. The actress was wearing enormous silver sunshades and bright red lip dye. Her glamorous hair was pulled straight back in a long, sleek tail. The sunny yellow skinsuit was in direct opposition to the murderous expression on her lovely face.

  “Get us some coffee, Peabody. Have a seat, Pepper. What can I do for you?”

  “You can arrest that lying, cheating son of a bitch Leo, and drop him in the deepest, darkest hole you can find until the flesh rots off his fucking bones.”

  “No need to stifle your emotions in here, Pepper. Tell us how you really feel.”

  “I’m not in the mood for jokes.” She whipped off the shades and revealed an impressive shiner. It would be more impressive in a few hours, Eve judged, when the blood finished gathering in bruises.

  “Bet that hurts.”

  “I’m too mad to feel it. I found out he’s been boffing my understudy. My goddamn understudy. And the assistant stage manager. And Christ knows who else. When I confronted him, he denied it, just kept lying, telling me I was imagining things. Have you got any vodka?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “Probably just as well. I woke up about three this morning. I don’t know why, generally I sleep like I’m in a coma. But I woke up, and he wasn’t there. I was confused, and concerned, so I did a house scan. And damned if it didn’t tell me he was there, in bed. Well, he wasn’t there, in bed. He’d programmed it to say so, I suppose, if I ever got suspicious and ran a replay, the system would verify that he’d never left the house. Bastard!”

  “I guess you looked through the place to make sure it wasn’t a glitch, and he was in the kitchen raiding the AutoChef.”

  “Of course I did. I was worried.” Bitterness spewed out like acid. “That was my only thought then. I looked all over the house, and I waited, and I thought about calling the police. Then it occurred to me he might have just gone out for a walk, or a drive, or Jesus, I don’t know. And the security system was faulty. I convinced myself, and I actually dozed off in the chair about six. When I woke up a couple hours later, there was a message on the ’link.”

  She reached into a handbag the size of Nebraska and pulled out the disc. “Do you mind? I’d like to hear it again.”

  “Sure.” Eve took it, slid it into her own ’link, and requested message play. Leo’s voice spilled out.

  GOOD MORNING, SLEEPYHEAD! DIDN’T WANT TO WAKE YOU. YOU LOOKED SO BEAUTIFUL SNUGGLED UP IN BED. GOT UP EARLY, DECIDED TO HEAD STRAIGHT TO THE HEALTH CLUB, AND ENDED UP HAVING A BREAKFAST MEETING. YOU NEVER KNOW WHO YOU’LL RUN INTO. I’VE GOT A PRETTY FULL SCHEDULE, SO I WON’T BE BACK UNTIL AFTER YOU’VE LEFT TO RECORD THAT PROMO SPOT THIS AFTERNOON. YOU’LL BE GREAT! PROBABLY WON’T SEE YOU UNTIL AFTER THE SHOW TONIGHT. I’LL WAIT UP, ’CAUSE I MISS YOU, BABY DOLL.

  “Baby doll, my butt,” Pepper uttered. “He sent the transmission silent, about six-fifteen. He knows I’m never up before seven-thirty, never sleep past eight. He never came home last night, but he was covering himself. I went to his office, but he’d called that bimbo he’s probably been doing and told her he wouldn’t be in all day. She was surprised to see me as apparently he’d told her that I was having some sort of emotional crisis and he needed to stay with me. I’ll show him an emotional crisis.”

  She rose, saw there wasn’t room to pace, then dropped down again. “I postponed the promo spot, went home, and went through his office. That’s how I found out he’s been sending flowers and tasteful little gifts to his fucking harem, and I found receipts for hotel rooms, names and dates on his personal calendar. He showed up about three, looking all surprised to see me, all delighted.” Her bruised eye flashed fury. “He’d had a couple of cancellations, and wasn’t this lucky? Why didn’t we go upstairs to bed, and get lucky again.”

  “I’m assuming you told him his luck had run out.”

  “In spades. I hit him with not being home all night, and he tried to make me think I’d been dreaming or sleepwalking. When I showed him the copies I’d made of his personal receipts and date book, he had the nerve, the fucking nerve, to act hurt and insulted. If I didn’t trust him, we had a serious problem.”

  She paused, lifted a hand to indicate she needed a moment. “I couldn’t believe what I was hearing coming out of his mouth. So smooth, so practiced. Well. Well.”

  “I don’t have any alcohol in here,” Eve said into the silence. “How about a hit of coffee?”

  “Thanks, but
just some water, if you don’t mind.”

  While Peabody moved to take care of it, Pepper picked up her shades by the earpiece, twirled them. “No point in going into all the ugly details, but when he realized I wasn’t buying, when I explained to him that it was done, he was out—out of the house, the office, the expense account, and my life—the shit hit the fan. And his fist hit my face.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “I have no idea. Thanks,” she said when Peabody handed her some water. “I expect you to find him, Dallas, and arrest him. I’d have worse than a black eye if I hadn’t had a security droid on standby. I’d done that because I wanted the droid to escort him upstairs, wait while he packed up what belonged to him, and escort him out. Instead, when I called out, it came in while Leo was coming toward me, ready to hit me again. It hauled him up and heaved him out.”

  She drank, slow sips, until the glass was empty.

  “He said vicious things to me,” Pepper continued. “Crude, vicious, horrible things. It was my fault he was seduced—his term—seduced by other women because I was so controlling, even in bed. How it was past time he showed me who was in charge around here because he was through taking orders from . . . from some bossy cunt.” She shuddered. “He was screaming that sort of thing at me before the droid came in. I was terrified. I didn’t know I could be terrified, not really. I didn’t know he could be the way he was in those few awful minutes.”

  “Get her some more water, Peabody,” Eve ordered when Pepper started to shake.

  “I’d rather be mad than scared.” She dug into the bag again, found a lace-edged handkerchief, and mopped at her streaming eyes. “I’m all right when I’m just mad. I know about the woman who was attacked last night, and the report speculated it’s connected with two murders—the ones you asked me about. And I thought, Oh God, oh God, I thought, Leo could have done it. The Leo I saw today could have done it. I don’t know what to do.”

  “You’re going to file a complaint, and we’re going to bring charges of assault. We’ll track him down and bring him in. He won’t touch you again.”

  This time she only stared into the water Peabody gave her, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m afraid to be alone. I’m ashamed that he’s made me a coward, but—”

  “You’re not a coward. You just had some guy who outweighs you by a good thirty sock his fist into your eye and threaten to do more. If you weren’t shaken up, you’d be stupid. You’re not stupid because you came in and you’re bringing charges.”

  “What if he killed those women? I slept beside him, I made love with him. What if he did those horrible things, then came home to me?”

  “Let’s take it one step at a time. Once we’ve done the paperwork, I can arrange for an officer to stay at home with you if you’d feel safer having a cop as well as your security droid.”

  “I would. I very much would. But I’d need him, or her, to come to the theater. I have a performance at eight.” She smiled wanly. “The show must go on.”

  By the time she’d sent Pepper and her police escort off to Broadway, the stress and fatigue had a headache swirling behind Eve’s eyes. She’d put out an APB on Fortney, and the dragnet was already spreading.

  She met with Breen’s attorney, let the preliminary complaints roll off her. But when he demanded his client be allowed to return home and tend to his minor child, she didn’t argue. In fact, she surprised the attorney by postponing further questioning until nine the next morning.

  And she assigned two men to stake out Breen and his house overnight.

  She sat back down in her office, already past the end of shift, and thought about coffee, about sleep, about work.

  When McNab jogged in, he looked so bright and energetic, it hurt to look at him.

  “Can’t you ever wear anything that doesn’t glow?” she demanded.

  “Summertime, Dallas. Guy’s gotta glow. Got some news should put a glow back in your cheeks. Fortney booked a first-class seat on a shuttle to New L.A. He’s en route.”

  “Quick work, McNab.”

  He shot out his index finger, blew on it. “Fastest EDD man in the east. Lieutenant, you look well and truly beat.”

  “Nothing wrong with your vision, either. Take Peabody home. Make sure she gets a good night’s sleep, which is my delicate way of saying restrain yourself from rabbiting together half the night. She needs a clear and alert mind tomorrow.”

  “You got it. You might try that good night’s sleep yourself.”

  “Eventually,” she mumbled, then started the process of extraditing Fortney and arranging for local authorities to meet him when he stepped off the shuttle.

  Peabody bounced in. “Lieutenant, McNab said you said—”

  “I should just put in a revolving door because everybody just walks in and out as they damn well please anyway.”

  “The door was open. It’s almost always open. McNab said I was relieved, but I haven’t yet contacted authorities in New L.A. re Fortney, or transmitted the warrant.”

  “It’s done. They’ll pick him up, ship him back, and have promised to take just enough time to ensure he’ll spend the night in a cell. He won’t wrangle a bail hearing until morning.”

  “It’s my job to—”

  “Shut up, Peabody. Go home, get a meal, get some sleep. The exam starts oh eight hundred, sharp.”

  “Sir, I believe it might be necessary to postpone the exam as this case is at a crucial point. Fortney—and I see that my initial instincts there were right—will have to be interviewed, and you’ll want to interview Breen and try to arrange an interview with Renquist to tie the matter up. I feel it’s inappropriate for me to take a half day, minimum, for personal business during this stage of the investigation.”

  “Got the jitters?”

  “Well, yeah, that, too, but—”

  “You’ll take the exam, Peabody. If you have to wait another three months to take it, one of us will jump off the nearest building, or more likely, I’ll just pitch you off. I think, somehow, I can muddle through the day without you.”

  “But I think—”

  “Report at Exam Room One, oh eight hundred, Officer. That’s an order.”

  “I don’t believe you can actually order me to take . . .” She trailed off, swallowed hard when Eve lifted her gaze. “But, ah, I understand the spirit of the statement, sir. I’m going to try not to let you down.”

  “Jesus, Peabody, you’re not going to let me down whatever you do on the exam. And you’ll be—”

  “Stop.” Peabody squeezed her eyes closed. “Don’t say anything that’ll jinx it. Don’t say it, or any sentence with the word luck in it.”

  “You’d better go take a pill.”

  “I might.” She gave a shaky smile. “Don’t wish me the ‘L’ word, okay, but maybe you could do like a signal or a sign. You could do this.” Peabody showed her teeth in a grin, widened her eyes to show enthusiasm, and punched out her fist with her thumb sticking up.

  Leaning back, Eve cocked her head. “What is that? I’m supposed to signal you to stick your thumb up your ass?”

  “No! It’s thumbs-up. Jeez, Dallas. Thumbs-up. Never mind.”

  “Peabody.” Eve rose, halting her aide before she could stalk out of the office. “Commencing at oh eight hundred hours, I expect you to kick exam butt.”

  “Yes, sir. Thanks.”

  Chapter 20

  When Eve dragged herself home, there was one thought uppermost in her mind. To get herself horizontal on a flat surface for one blessed hour.

  Fortney was on his way back to New York, under wraps, and by God he could stew in a cage for a few hours. She’d deal with Breen in the morning, and Renquist. Though Smith was down on her list, he’d be watched for the next little while. But she couldn’t watch anyone with eyes that felt like a couple of burnt cinders stuck in her face.

  She just needed to stretch out, she told herself, give her head a chance to clear. She walked through a fog of fatigue into the cool and go
rgeous quiet of the house.

  The fog shimmered and tore apart. And Summerset stepped through it.

  “You are, as usual, late.”

  She stared for a moment while her numbed brain struggled to process. Tall, bony, ugly, annoying. Oh yeah, he was back. She found the energy to peel off her linen jacket and tossed it on the newel just to irritate him.

  It was amazing how much better the act made her feel.

  “How’d you get through airport security with that steel pike up your ass?” Ordering herself not to stagger, she bent to pick up the cat who was busy threading himself between her legs. She stroked Galahad’s head. “Look, it’s back. Didn’t I tell you to change the security code?”

  “The disgrace you call a vehicle does not belong in front of the house, nor,” he added, picking up her jacket with two thin fingers, “is this the proper place for articles of clothing.”

  She started up the stairs, stifling a yawn. “Bite me.”

  He watched her go, smiled thinly at her back. It was good to be home.

  She went straight to the bedroom, managed to make it up to the platform, where she dumped the cat on the bed seconds before she fell facedown onto it herself.

  She was asleep before Galahad padded his way over and curled up on her butt.

  Roarke found her there, as he’d expected from the brief report from Summerset. “Finally hit the wall, have you?” he murmured, noting she hadn’t removed her weapon harness or boots. He gave the cat an absent scratch between the ears, then settled down in the sitting area to work while she slept.

  She didn’t dream, not at first, but simply lay at the bottom of a dark pool of exhaustion. Only when she began to surface did the dreams come, in vague shapes and muffled sounds. A hospital bed, with a pale figure on it.

  Marlene Cox, then herself as a child. Both battered, both helpless. Then the darker shapes that swirled around the bed. The cop she was, staring down at the child she’d been.