Chapter Twenty
When Mira came in, wearing a deep green sheath and matching, sort of swingy jacket, Eve asked her to close the door.
“Of course.”
“Take a seat. I have that tea you like.”
“Something tells me I might want coffee for this.”
“Take the desk chair. As you can see from the board, I have names and faces of the prime suspects in the murder, the collusion re the theft, the attempt to kill me.”
Mira’s soft blue eyes did a quick and thorough study. “You weren’t hurt.”
“No.” She handed Mira coffee. “Primarily, I want to discuss the murder. Joy Barrister. We have linked her to a payment to the murder for hire, so we’ve got her there. No reason to try to take me out other than trying to screw with the investigation into her brother’s murder and the theft.”
“No reason to do that unless she was involved.”
“Correct. For immunity, the thief has provided us with considerable information. She did so after she learned Barrister had been killed.”
“And she’s not responsible for his murder. That’s something you believe.”
“Yes, as does Reo. One of the keys? She was scheduled to break in on Saturday, when Aileen Carville would have been out of town. They moved it up to Friday, rescheduling after Nathan Barrister left work ill.”
Mira scanned the board again, studying, Eve knew, both Joy and Nathan Barrister.
“A better plan,” Mira concluded, “with Aileen Carville still in the house. A better plan, as it worked out that she, rather than his sister, discovered the body.”
“A nice extra bonus for them. Joy Barrister knew her brother was unwell, and Aileen would be sleeping in the guest room. The opportunity to kill him, using the break-in as cover, was better that way. He’s weak, groggy with cold meds, and yeah, the wife is still there.”
“Yes. I read your report after you spoke to the estate attorney. She was, and likely had been, firmly in second place from the moment her brother was born. Add he gets the house and everything in it.”
“Which includes the vault.”
“Yes. He takes charge of the company, and with the majority share.”
“Which, although she won’t have a majority share even now, is going to be in her hands, under her control.
It’s not the money. She’s always had money.
It’s the insult. It’s never quite measuring up to her brother in her father’s eyes.
Add he had a long, happy, successful marriage.
Two college-age daughters who loved him and have done well. ”
“The only way she could have what she felt entitled to, what had been denied her, was to remove her brother. From what we know of him, he was most likely kind to her, inclusive both personally and regarding the business.”
“The way I see it, that just burned her ass even more.”
Mira smiled a little. “I wouldn’t disagree.”
“She had the opportunity and the means, and sure didn’t quibble about hiring a kill on a cop. I think she had motive.”
“Clearly. With her brother gone, she’s in charge, in control. His widow has her own business, his daughters are still in college. She will be Zip Global now. In addition, Eve, by killing his son, she not only pays her brother back, but their father.”
“Kills the favorite, smears the old man’s rep, and comes off the savior.”
“And in her fear you were close to identifying her cohorts, she attempts to have you killed or severely injured.” Mira finished her coffee. “While foolish, it also demonstrates her mindset. ‘I’ve come this far, done this much, I won’t be stopped now.’”
“If she thinks that, she’s got a surprise coming.”
“While I’m very glad you weren’t hurt, the foolishness comes from her thinking removing you would have stopped the investigation. When, in fact, it would have accelerated it.
“In any case, I’m happy to observe when you bring her in for interview.”
Mira set the mug aside, recrossed her legs.
“Let me add, I have read over Henry Barrister’s medical records. He had progressive mixed dementia, and was moving from stage three to stage four. Misplacing things, forgetting names, confusion, increased difficulty completing tasks. He would have benefitted from memory care, but refused it.”
“That fits with his behavior toward the end.”
“But that’s not really why you asked me to meet with you here, with the door shut.”
“No. I’m asking if I can speak to you now as doctor/patient, or whatever it takes for what’s said to stay in this room.”
“You’ve only to ask. It’s about the blonde. I know who she is. You’re concerned about Roarke.”
“She knows things. I need to, and I will, convince her she’ll get nowhere with that.
I believe I can, and I will, twist that around on her and away from him, if I need to.
Hell, I’m going to need to. I need to take her down, but I’m not going to let Interpol or anyone use her to go after Roarke. I can’t.”
The thought of it burned in her belly like acid, twisted her heart into painful knots.
“I have to take her down or I don’t deserve the badge. I can’t let her take him with her, or I don’t deserve him.”
Mira’s gaze stayed calm and steady. “Do you value my opinion?”
“Of course I do.”
“You’ve proven time and again you deserve both. The fact it weighs on you cements that fact even more. She thinks she’s a very clever woman. I see her as more cagey than clever. How did you end this with her last time?”
“I punched her in the face and had her tossed out of the house.”
“Good for you. How did Roarke end it with her last time?”
“He banned her from any of his properties. Also had her tossed out of one in London. That’s right before she came here this time, to Henry Barrister.”
“Ah, see, cagey, but not so very clever. Do you believe in redemption?”
Eve hedged. “Specifically or in general?”
“A cop to the bone,” Mira murmured. “Let’s say specific in this case, because clearly you do.
Roarke has more than redeemed himself for any past transgressions.
There’s no one who knows him who thinks otherwise.
She doesn’t know him. She knows a ghost, a shadow from the past. You’ll do what you need to do.
She won’t best you. She didn’t the last time, either. ”
“I fell apart for a while.”
“And this time you won’t.” Mira rose, took Eve’s face in her hands. “She wants to shake you, so don’t let her. Take control, and don’t let it go. Hold on to your power, as a cop and as the woman Roarke loves. Make damn sure she sees it.”
“Okay. Okay. Sorry to pull you up here, but—”
“Stop. Whatever conflict you’re dealing with inside that complicated head of yours, stop that, too. You know what to do and how to do it.”
“Yeah.” She stuck her hands in her pockets. “I guess I do, and better get started on doing it.”
“It should also remain in this room that I’m going to feel a great deal of personal satisfaction when you’ve done it. Let me know when you have them.”
“I will. Thanks. Really.”
“You’re welcome. Really.”
When Mira left, Eve turned back to her board. She looked at Magdelana, then at Joy Barrister. On the surface, she thought, the two women couldn’t be more different.
But under the skin, so much the same.
“Yeah, I know what to do so both of you end up in cages.”
When she’d worked out what she could with what she had, she went back out into the bullpen.
Today’s tie was flaming red with a bunch of little black-suited ninjas in various martial arts poses. Some had nunchucks. Some had swords.
And she worried about her mental health, as she almost liked this one.
“I got something to say.”
“Yeah, Jenkinson, I figured that.”
He got to his feet, nodded to the bullpen at large. “Whoever hired that fucker to stick you? He’s going fucking down.”
“I believe you’re using the wrong pronoun.”
“Yeah?” Eyes sparking, he nodded again. “She’s going fucking down.”
“So say we all,” Baxter called out from the other side of the bullpen.
So say we all echoed around the room.
“Appreciated. Briefing in ten on taking her, and those she conspired with to kill Nathan Barrister and put a hole in me, the fuck down.”
“It should hurt,” Santiago put in.
“When I brief you on who’s going down, you’ll understand it’ll hurt. A lot.”
When she turned to leave, the EDD team walked in with Callendar and McNab adding a shock of color even Jenkinson’s tie couldn’t compete with.
One glance at Feeney’s face told the story.
“You got it.”
“We got it.”
“Cochran Estates, Long Island.” As Willowby spoke, she sent the flirt eye in Trueheart’s direction. Eve could feel his blush from ten feet away.
“Big wedding and event venue,” Callendar put in. “If you’ve got pockets as deep as the Grand Canyon. Private shuttle strip’s a convenient two-minute drive away.”
“The shuttle strip and the estate are in blackout since yesterday, and through tomorrow.”
“You figure it’s tonight.”
“Tonight, cocktails and hors d’oeuvres, musical entertainment at half-seven. Black-tie,” Roarke continued. “There will be swag bags.”
“Swag bags?”
“Attendees will receive a gift bag containing an exclusive, designed-for-the-event perfume, a pair of champagne flutes with emerald-green stems, and a bottle of Chateau Lafitte champagne.”
“That’s his brew.” Feeney jerked a thumb at Roarke.
“It is, yes. The auction begins at nine, where they’ll seed with a selection of other items. The main event’s scheduled for eleven, following a short break where desserts are offered and the Royal Suite can be viewed through a shockproof glass case. The bidding floor is three hundred.”
“That’s million,” McNab added.
“How the hell did you get all this? Swag bags?”
Roarke shrugged. “A bit of luck.”
“Consultant Dreamcake calls it luck. I call it genius.” Willowby beamed at him. “We were close, right on the edge of it. He tipped it over.”
“Genius luck then. Conference room.” She turned to Jenkinson. “Whitney, Lieutenant Lowenbaum, Reo. Contact and tell them we’re starting in five.”
She started out. “I need to see the venue, inside and out. Blueprints, security schematics. A rough idea of the number of attendees would be helpful.”