Divided in Death

Chapter 2

“No. No, I didn’t wash her hands or face.” Caro sat, eyes level, face composed. But her hands were knotted together in her lap, as if she used them as a rope to anchor her body to the chair.

“I tried to touch as little as possible, and just keep her calm until you got here.”

“Caro.” Eve kept her gaze focused on the woman’s face, and tried to ignore the fact-and the small kernel of resentment in her belly-that Roarke remained in the room. At Caro’s request. “There’s a master bath upstairs, off the main bedroom. There are indications, though the sink was wiped down, that someone washed blood away.”

“I didn’t go upstairs. I give you my word.”

Because she did, because Eve believed her, she realized Caro didn’t understand the implications of her statement. But from the change in Roarke’s posture, the subtle shifting to alert, Eve knew he did.

Because he remained silent, that kernel of resentment shrank a bit.

“There’s blood on Reva’s clothes,” Eve said.

“Yes, I know. I saw…” And the understanding dawned in her eyes, followed instantly by a barely controlled panic. “Lieutenant, if Reva-if she used the washroom, it would’ve been while she was in shock. Not to try to cover anything up. You have to believe that. She was in shock.”

Sick, certainly, Eve thought. Her prints were on the bowl and rim of the toilet. Just as they’d be if she’d held on while being violently ill. But not in the master bath. The evidence of her illness was in the bath down the hall from the bedroom.

While the blood traces were in the master bath.

“How did you enter the premises, Caro?”

“How did I… oh.” She brushed a hand over her face like a woman brushing absently at a cobweb. “The door, the front door was unlocked. It was open a little.”

“Open?”

“Yes. Yes, the lock light was green, then I saw it wasn’t quite closed, so I just pushed it open and came in.”

“And what was the situation when you entered?”

“Reva was sitting on the floor, in the foyer. Sitting there, in a ball, shaking. She was barely coherent.”

“But she’d been coherent enough when she contacted you for you to understand Blair and Felicity were dead, and she-your daughter-was in trouble.”

“Yes. That is, I understood she needed me, and that Blair-Blair and Felicity-were dead. She said: ‘Mom. Mom, they’re dead. Someone’s killed them.’ She was crying, and her voice was hollow and strange. She said she didn’t know what to do, what should she do. I asked where she was, and she told me. I can’t remember exactly what she said, or I said. But it’s on my ‘link at home. You’ll hear for yourself.” Her voice tightened a little.

“Yes, we will.”

“I realize that Reva, then I, should have contacted the police immediately.”

Caro smoothed a hand over the knees of her pajama pants, then simply stared at them as if she’d just realized what she was wearing.

Her cheeks went a little pink, then she sighed. “I can only tell you that both of us, both of us were… we weren’t thinking clearly, and only thought to contact the person we each trusted most.”

“Were you aware that your son-in-law was unfaithful?”

“No. No, I was not.” The words snapped out, with anger just behind them. “And before you ask, I knew Felicity quite well, or thought I did,” Caro amended. “I considered her one of Reva’s closest friends, almost a sister. She was often in my home, as I was often in hers.”

“Was she, Felicity, involved with other men?”

“She had a very active social life, and leaned toward artists.” Her mouth went grim as her thoughts veered, obviously, to her son-in-law. “She used to joke that she wasn’t ready to settle on any one style or era-in men or in her art collection. She was, I thought, a clever woman, with a great deal of style and humor. Reva is often so serious and focused on her work. I thought… I believed Felicity was a good friend for her, someone who brought out her more frivolous side.”

“Who was Felicity seeing now?”

“I’m not sure. There was a man a few weeks ago. We were all here for one of her Sunday brunches. He was a painter, I think.” She closed her eyes as if to focus. “Yes, a painter. His name was Fredo. She introduced him as Fredo, and he struck me as very dramatic, very foreign and intense. But a few weeks before that, there was another. Thin and pale and brooding. And before that…”

She shrugged a shoulder. “She enjoyed men, and from all appearance didn’t develop relationships with any beyond the surface.”

“Is there anyone else who might have had the access codes for this residence?”

“I don’t know of anyone. Felicity was very strict about her security. She wouldn’t employ any staff and kept only droids for domestic work. She used to say people couldn’t be trusted because they always trusted the wrong people. I remember once I told her I found that very sad, and she laughed, and reminded me if it wasn’t true, my daughter wouldn’t have a job.”

Eve saw Peabody come to the doorway, and rose. “Thank you. I’ll need to talk to you again, and I need your permission, on record, to take your home ‘links in for examination.”

“You have it, and whatever else you need to clear this up. I want you to know how much I appreciate you handling this personally. I know you’ll find the truth. Can I go to Reva now?”

“It would be better if you waited here, for a little while longer.” She shot a glance at Roarke, so that he understood she meant for him to do the same.

In the hallway, she nodded a go-ahead to Peabody.

“Sweepers got blood out of the bathroom drain upstairs, and Ewing ’s print on the bowl, though it had been wiped pretty carefully. The murder weapon doesn’t match the kitchen cutlery here. There’s a pretty fancy set, and nothing appears to be missing.”

She consulted her notes. “Reactivated the house droid. It was shut down at twenty-one thirty. Prior to that time, it records that Felicity was at home with a companion. She’d programmed the droid not to give names or details. We’ll need to take it in to override.”

“See to it, then. Any blood traces in the second bath upstairs?”

“None. Just Ewing ’s prints on the toilet.”

“Okay. Let’s give Ewing a second pass.”

They moved together into the living area where a uniform baby-sat Reva. The minute Eve stepped in, Reva surged to her feet. “Lieutenant. I’d like to speak with you. Privately.”

Eve gestured for the uniform to leave the room, and spoke without looking at Peabody. “This is my partner, Detective Peabody. What would you like to speak with us about, Ms. Ewing?”

Reva hesitated, then, when Eve sat, let out a resigned breath. “It’s just that my head’s clearing up, and I’ve realized what sort of jam I’m in. And the sort of jam I’ve put my mother in. She only came because I was hysterical. I don’t want any of the mess that’s on me to rub off on her.”

“Don’t worry about your mother. No one’s looking to hurt her in this.”

“Okay.” Reva gave a short nod. “Okay, then.”

“You said when you pulled back the covers, you saw the bodies, the blood.”

“Yes. I saw they were dead. I knew they were dead. Had to be.”

“Where was the knife?”

“The knife?”

“The murder weapon. Where was it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see a knife. Just Blair and Felicity.”

“ Peabody, would you show Ms. Ewing the weapon we’ve taken into evidence.”

Peabody drew out the sealed knife, walked over to show it to Reva. “Do you recognize this knife, Ms. Ewing?”

Reva stared at the smeared blade, the smeared handle, then lifted her gaze, full of stunned confusion, to Eve’s. “It’s Blair’s. It’s one of the set he bought last year, when he decided we should both take cooking classes. I told him to go right ahead, but I’d stick with the AutoChef or take-out. He actually took the classes, and did some cooking now and then. This looks like one of his kitchen knives.”

“Did you bring it with you tonight, Reva? Were you so angry that you put it in your bag, maybe to threaten them, to scare them?”

“No.” She took a step back from it. “No, I didn’t bring it.”

This time Eve held out an evidence bag. “Is this your stunner?”

“No.” Reva’s fingers curled into her palms. “That’s a recent military model. Mine’s over six years old, a reconfigured Secret Service make. That doesn’t belong to me. I’ve never seen it before.”

“Both this and the knife were used on the victims. Both this and the knife have your fingerprints on them.”

“This is crazy.”

“The violence of the stabbings would have resulted in considerable blood spatter. On your hands, your arms, your face, as well as your clothes.”

Dully now, Reva looked down at her hands, rubbed them gently together. “I know there’s blood on my shirt. I don’t know… Maybe I touched something up there. I don’t remember. But I didn’t kill them. I never touched that knife, that stunner. There’s no blood on my hands.”

“There’s blood in the bathroom drain, and your fingerprints are on the sink.”

“You think I washed my hands? You think I tried to clean up, cover up, then called my mother?”

Eve could tell that Reva’s head was clearing, and her temper was coming back along with her coherency. Those dark eyes were hot, and her teeth clamped together as her color came up. “What the hell do you think I am? You think I’d rip my husband and my friend to pieces, to goddamn pieces because they made a fool out of me? And if I did, I wouldn’t have the fucking sense to get rid of the murder weapon and cover myself? For God’s sake, they were dead. They were dead when I got here.”

She pushed out of her chair as she spat out the words, and the anger so alive on her face pushed her to whirl around the room. “What the hell is going on? What the hell is this?”

“Why did you come here tonight, Reva?”

“To confront them, to shout and yell and maybe to knee Blair in the balls. To slap Felicity in that gorgeous, lying face. To break something and create one hell of an ugly scene.”

“Why tonight?”

“Because I only found out tonight, goddamn it.”

“How? How did you find out?”

Reva stopped, stared at Eve as if trying to understand some odd, half-remembered language. “The package. Oh Jesus, the photographs and the receipts. There was a package delivered to my house. I was already in bed. It was early, just after eleven, but I was bored and went to bed. I heard the bell from the gate. It irritated me. I couldn’t think who’d be coming by at eleven, but I went down. There was a package left at the gate. I went out and got it.”

“Did you see anyone?”

“No. Just the package, and being a suspicious sort, I ran a scanner over it. I didn’t expect a boomer,” she said with a wry smile, “but, it’s habit. I got the all-clear and brought it in. I thought it was from Blair. An I-already-miss-you present. He did that sort of thing-silly, romantic…”

She trailed off, struggled as her eyes went shiny with tears. “I just figured it was from him, and I opened it up. There were photographs, a lot of surveillance-type shots of Blair with Felicity. Intimate, unmistakable sort of photos of the two of them, and copies of receipts from hotels and restaurants. Shit.”

She pressed her fingers to her lips. “Receipts for jewelry and lingerie he’d bought-and not for me. All from an account I didn’t know he had. And there were two discs-one of ‘link calls between them, one of e-mail text they’d exchanged. Love calls, love letters-very intimate and graphic.”

“There was nothing to indicate who’d send these things to you.”

“No, and I didn’t look or even wonder at the time. I was too shocked and angry and hurt. The last transmission on the disc was the two of them talking about how they were going to have two days together, right here in her place while I thought he was out of town. They laughed at me,” she murmured. “Had a good laugh over how oblivious I was to what was going on right under my nose. Some security expert who couldn’t even keep tabs on her own husband.”

She sat again, heavily. “This doesn’t make sense. It’s just crazy. Who would kill them, and set me up to take the fall?”

“Where’s the package?” Eve asked her.

“In my ride. I brought it with me in case I softened up on the way over, though there wasn’t much chance of it. It’s in the passenger seat where I could see it.”

“ Peabody.”

Reva waited until Peabody walked outside to retrieve the package. “It doesn’t make me look any less guilty. I get proof my husband’s diddling my best friend, find out they have a rendezvous tonight, and I come over here, armed and ready. I walked right into this. I don’t know how or why I was set up. I don’t know why you’d believe me when I tell you I was set up. But that’s the truth.”

“I’m going to have to take you in. I’m going to have to charge you. The charge is going to be Murder in the First, two counts.” She watched Reva’s color drain. “I don’t know you,” Eve continued, “but I know your mother, and I know Roarke. Neither of them are pushovers. They both believe in you, so here’s what I’m going to tell you. Off-record. Get a lawyer. Get a damn good fleet of lawyers. And don’t lie to me. Don’t lie to me about anything I might ask you. Those lawyers are good enough, they’ll have you out on bond first thing in the morning. Stay clean, stay straight, and stay available to me. You hide something, I’ll find it, and that’ll piss me off.”

“I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“You might think of something. If and when you do, think again. I want you to volunteer for a Truth Test, third level. It’s hell, it’s intrusive, and it can be painful, but if you’ve got nothing to hide and you’re being straight with me, you’ll pass it. A third level will weigh heavy on your side.”

She closed her eyes, breathed deep. “I can handle third level.”

Eve smiled thinly. “Don’t go in with a chip on your shoulder. I’ve been there, and it’s going to flatten you. I can get a warrant to search your house, your office, your vehicles, everything. But if you give me permission to do so, on record, that’s going to weigh, too.”

“I’m putting a hell of a lot in your hands, Dallas.”

“It’s in them anyway.”

She took Reva in, booked her. Due to the hour she could opt, without breaking procedure, to continue their interview until morning. But she still had work, and she still had Roarke.

She walked through the bullpen in Homicide where the scatter of detectives on graveyard shift yawned their way through the last couple of hours of work. As she expected, Roarke waited in her office.

“I need to speak with you,” he began.

“Figured. Don’t speak until I have coffee.” She went directly to the AutoChef, programmed a double serving, strong and black.

He stood where he was, only turned to stare out of her miserly window at the fitful predawn traffic. As she drank, she could all but see impatience and outrage snaking out of his skin like lightning bolts.

“I arranged it so Caro could have fifteen minutes with her. That’s the best I can do. Then you need to take Caro out of here, take her home, settle her down. You’ll know how.”

“She’s out of her mind with worry.”

“I expect she is.”

“You expect?” He turned around then, slowly. Slowly enough for her to understand his temper was on its shortest, thinnest leash. “You’ve just booked her only child for two first-degree murders. You have her daughter in a cage.”

“And did you think because you’re fond of them, and I of you, I’d just let her waltz into the night when I have her prints all over a murder weapon? When I have her on the scene of a double murder and the victims just happen to be her husband and her pal, both naked in bed? When she fucking admits she broke in after learning he was sticking it to her good pal Felicity?”

She took a deep gulp of the coffee, gestured toward him with the cup. “Hey, maybe I should’ve pulled the religious cop routine, and nudged her out the door with the advice to go forth and sin no more.”

“She didn’t kill anyone. It’s obvious Reva was set up, and that whoever killed them marked her for it, planned it out and left her twisting in the wind.”

“I happen to agree with you.”

“And locking her up only gives whoever did this time and opportunity to-what?”

“I said I agree with you, about the setup. But not with what you didn’t quite finish saying there.” She drank more coffee, slower this time, letting it slide deliciously into her system. “I’m not giving whoever did this the time and opportunity to get away. I’m giving them the time and opportunity to think they’ll get away-and keeping Reva safe in the meantime. And following the pesky little letter of the law while I’m at it. I’m doing my job, so get off my back.”

He sat because he was suddenly tired, and because he, too, was sick with worry over the mother, the daughter. Both of whom he considered his responsibility. “You believed her.”

“Yeah, I believed her. And I believe my own eyes.”

“I’m sorry. I seem to be a little dull this morning. What did your own eyes tell you?”

“That it was too staged. The scene. Like a vid set. Viciously murdered naked couple, knife-from the prime suspect’s own kitchen, sticking out of the mattress. Blood in the bathroom drain, suspect’s print on the sink-one little spot she just happened to miss on the wipe-down. Her prints all over the weapons, just in case the investigating officer needs to be led by the fucking nose.”

“And you certainly don’t. Should I apologize for doubting you?”

“You get a free one, seeing as it’s five in the morning and we’ve put in a long night.” She felt generous enough to give him the coffee, and program another mug for herself. “Classy frame job for the most part, though. Whoever did it had to know your girl-what she does for a living, how she reacts. Had to be dead-sure she’d rush over to her pal’s house with blood in her eye. That she’d bypass security. Might have figured she’d just beat on the door first, but that she wouldn’t turn around and slink off home when nobody answered. But they missed a few.”

“Which were?”

“If she’d walked in with a big, nasty knife in her hand, she wouldn’t have dug into her bag of tricks for a minidrill to go at the jacket. If she washed up, why’d she use the other upstairs bath to get sick? Why leave her prints there? How come there’s no blood in her hair? Spatter hits the lamp, some of the wall, and to do what she did, she’d have been right on top of them, but there’s no spatter in her hair. She wash that, too? Then why didn’t the sweepers find any of her hair in the bathroom drains?”

“You’re very thorough.”

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks. Whoever did this knows her, Roarke, and the victims. Wanted one or the other of them dead, maybe both. Or maybe just want Reva Ewing doing life in a cage. That’s a puzzler.”

She sat on the corner of her desk sipping her coffee. “I’m going to turn her life inside out, and do the same job on the victims. At least one of them is the key. Whoever did it surveilled the vics, got the photos, the discs. Good quality. And they got into the house as slick as Reva did, so security’s no problem for them. Had a military-style stunner. I need it analyzed yet, but I’m betting it’s no black market knockoff. They think the cop’s going to step into that scene and gobble all that shit right up, then go eat a fricking doughnut.”

“Not my cop.”

“Not any cop in this division or that cop deserves a boot up the ass,” Eve said with feeling. “When something looks that perfect on the surface, it never is down below. Whoever set this up was just a little too creative. Maybe he figured she’d run. That when she woke up, she’d panic and run. But she didn’t. I’m having the medicals go over her, see if she was knocked out, or given a dose of something that knocked her out. She doesn’t strike me as the fainting type.”

“I wouldn’t think so.”

Still sipping, she looked at him over the rim of her mug. “You’re going to get in my face on this again?”

“I am, yes.” He touched her arm, ran his hand down it, then let her go. “Both Caro and Reva are important to me. I’ll ask you to let me help. If you refuse, I’ll go around you. I’ll be sorry for it, but I’ll do it. Caro isn’t just an employee to me, Eve. She’s asked me for help, and she’s never asked me for anything before. Not once in all the years she’s been with me. I can’t step aside on this, not even for you.”

She took another contemplative sip. “If you could step aside on this, even for me, you wouldn’t be the man I fell for in the first place, would you?”

He set his coffee down, stepped over to frame her face in his hands. “Remember this moment, won’t you, the next time you’re furious with me? And I’ll do the same.” He lowered his head to press his lips to her forehead. “I’ll send you my files on both Caro and Reva, which contain considerable personal data. And I’ll get you more.”

“That’s a good start.”

“Caro asked me to do so.” He eased back. “I would’ve done it anyway, but it’s easier all around that she asked. You’ll find, in your dealings with her, she is scrupulous.”

“How’d she get that way working for you?”

He grinned now. “A paradox, isn’t it? You’ll call Feeney in?”

“I’m going to need ace EDD men, so yeah, it’ll be Feeney-and he’ll bring in McNab.”

“I could help with the electronics.”

“If Feeney wants you, he can have you. I’ll clear it with the commander. But you know it’s going to be touchy, your connection to the suspect. If I don’t convince Commander Whitney this is a frame, he’s not going to go along, even unofficially.”

“My money’s on you.”

“Let’s take it a step at a time. Get Caro home.”

“I will. I’m going to clear my calendar as much as possible until this is finished.”

“You paying for the lawyers?”

“She won’t let me.” A shadow of annoyance rippled over his face. “Neither of them will budge in that particular area.”

“One more. Did you and Reva ever tango?”

“Do you mean were we ever lovers? No.”

“Good. Slightly less sticky that way. Clear out,” she ordered. “I’ve got to round up my partner and drive to Queens.”

“Could I ask a question first?”

“Make it snappy.”

“If you’d walked into that scene tonight, and there’d been no connection, would you have looked at it the same way?”

“There was no connection when I walked onto the scene,” she told him. “That’s how I could see it for what it was. I couldn’t take you in with me, not literally, not in my head. You’d’ve done the same.”

“I like to think so.”

“You would have. You know how to be cold when you have to be. I mean that in a good way.”

“I believe you do,” he said with a half laugh.

“I did let you in a minute after I stepped out of it.”

“Did you?”

“I thought: If Roarke had set this up, nobody would’ve seen the frame. Whoever did it should’ve taken lessons.”

This time he did laugh, and she was pleased to see some of the worry warm out of his eyes. “Well now, that is high praise.”

“Just calling them as I see them, and another reason I’ve agreed to use you. I want to find out the how and why of a classy frame, I might as well make use of somebody who’d know the hows and whys. Start thinking about what Reva’s working on for you-or what she has been working on, or will be.”

“I already am.”

“See, just one more reason. You’re going to want a bodyguard for Caro, just in case. She’d prefer private to a cop.”

“It’s already done.”

“And the reasons just keep on ticking. Beat it.”

“Since you ask so nice.” He kissed her first, a soft touch of mouth to mouth. “Get something decent to eat,” he called out as he left.

And though her gaze went to the ceiling tile where she was currently hiding her candy stash, she didn’t think that was quite what he had in mind.