French Silk(32)

"Ten-o-five," Ariel replied impatiently. "Mr. Cassidy, we've been over this a thousand times."

"I know it seems repetitive, but sometimes in the retelling of events, a witness remembers something he's previously forgotten. Please indulge me."

She exhaled a longsuffering sigh. "We arrived at ten-o-five. We were all hungry. We ate in the Sazerac, on the lobby level. I'm sure the staff can verify that."

"They have. Did anyone leave the table at any time?"

"I don't think so. Josh, do you remember anyone leaving the table during the meal?"

"No Why is that important, Mr. Cassidy?"

How the perp got into the Wildes' suite was still unclear. Cassidy thought someone from the inner circle could have had access to a key and been waiting for Wilde when he returned from dinner. "Just thought I'd check."

"I don't remember anyone leaving until we'd finished," Ariel told him. "We all rode in the elevator together, getting off on our designated floors."

"Was it a convivial group?"

"Everyone was still full of the Spirit."

"The Spirit?"

"The Holy Spirit. That night's service had been particularly blessed."

"I see." Cassidy rifled through more papers. "So, Mrs. Wilde, you, your husband, and Josh got off the elevator together on the seventh floor?"

"That's correct. Jackson always reserved a floor exclusively for us, so the family would have absolute privacy."

"Hmm."

"I kissed Jackson good-night at the elevator, then went to Josh's suite to practice our songs for the next evening's service."

"Do you always sing on a full stomach, Mrs. Wilde?"

"Pardon?"

Cassidy leaned back in his chair and threaded a pencil through his fingers as he closely regarded the two. "I've known a few singers. I've never known one who liked to sing right after eating. A full stomach crowds the diaphragm, doesn't it?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You said you went to Josh's suite to practice."

"I can explain that," Josh said hastily. "When Ariel and I are rehearsing outside the auditorium, we're only working on timing, rhythm, that kind of thing. She doesn't sing full voice until we're in the auditorium, where the sound technicians can set mike levels."

"Oh," Cassidy said. "That must be why nobody heard you singing that night."

"No one else was on the seventh floor, remember?" Ariel sweetly reminded him.

"That's true. But the rooms above and below Josh's suite were occupied, yet the occupants never beard any singing or piano playing."

"What are you implying, Mr. Cassidy?"

"That maybe you went to Josh's suite to make music of a different sort."

The widow shot to her feet and glared down at him. "How dare you!"

"Nobody can corroborate your story, Mrs. Wilde."

"No one can dispute it either."

"And I think you planned it that way."

"Think what you want."

"I think that in order to continue your affair, one or both of you slipped back down the hall that night and shot your husband while he was asleep. You left him there all night, then the following morning staged this dog-and-pony show for the press and the public."

Her blue eyes narrowed menacingly. "The Devil is using you."

"Very possibly," Cassidy replied blandly. "He's always found me willing."

"Are you prepared to arrest us on the basis of this hunch of yours?" Ariel asked loftily.

"Without any evidence? You know as well as I do, Mrs. Wilde, that I couldn't make any charges stick."

"Precisely." She turned and sailed through the door.

Josh remained, but he shared her agitation. "That accusation was uncalled for, Mr. Cassidy. Rather than upsetting my stepmother with nasty allegations, why aren't you out beating the bushes for the real killer?"

"Come off it, Josh." Cassidy deliberately lapsed into the familiar form of address. If he was going to wear either of them down, it would be Josh. "I know you're boinking her. I wouldn't give a damn … unless you iced your old man so you could keep on boinking her."

"Stop saying that!"

"Then talk to me, dammit." He slapped the surface of his desk with his palms.

After a moment of tense silence, Josh asked sullenly, "What do you want to know?"

Cassidy curbed his temper, knowing intuitively that Josh would retreat if he wasn't handled with finesse. "Look at it from my perspective, Josh, and see what conclusions you draw. Ariel's young, pretty, talented, and in love with her young, handsome, talented stepson, who returns her love. Only there's a hitch. She's married. The unwanted husband gives her a motive I can't discount. And she was the only person other than your father who had a key to that suite."

"What about the maids? The hotel staff? Professional burglars don't need keys. They break into locked hotel suites all the time."

"Jackson was killed by someone familiar, someone he didn't mind seeing him naked and sprawled on the bed."

"It wasn't Ariel."