Faithless in Death (In Death, #52)(45)
“Yeah, it has the artist’s name. Another Christmas gift maybe. Six thousand. Angel, my ass.”
“It’s all monetary value to her. Tacky and cold.”
“Yeah.” And greedy, Eve thought. Grasping. “Another folder, legal docs. And here’s a copy of the trust. She knew the terms, and man, she got close with Merit Caine. Discs—and this one’s labeled Wills—Oliver Huffman, Paula Huffman. Interesting.
“Let’s bag it up, Peabody. We’ll check the discs on the way to House Royale.”
“I loaded in evidence bags, but I should’ve brought a bigger file bag.”
“We’ll spring for one from the bank. Start bagging, labeling, and I’ll get a damn sack.”
They hauled it back to the car, secured everything but the discs in the trunk.
“Run the wills,” Eve ordered, “look for the major terms and beneficiaries, while I check with—it’s Felicity,” she remembered. “To make sure Gwen’s there. Plus I want a list of approved guests.”
“Got it. Damn, I left my coffee in the bank. Can I?”
“Go.”
“Want?”
“Not now.” Eve contacted the desk at House Royale.
“Good morning, front desk. This is Felicity. How can I assist you?”
“Lieutenant Dallas. Is Gwen Huffman in her apartment?”
“She has a DND on her unit, and hasn’t left the building since I came on duty.”
“Okay. I need a list of her approved guests.”
“I can tell you that quite easily. Her parents, Oliver and Paula Huffman, and Merit Caine.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes, it is. Instructions are, any of those three may go right up, but the desk is to inform her of their arrival.”
“My partner and I will be there shortly. I need you to clear us up without informing her. We have a warrant to enter that’s still valid.”
“Understood.”
“Thanks.”
Eve clicked off, looked at Peabody.
“They’re really long and complicated. I don’t get a lot of it, so we’ll need legal on it, but I get the bottom line.”
“I’ll take that.”
“The son’s in here only to expressly disinherit him. Whoever kicks first leaves the rest—minus some specific bequests—to the other spouse. I think that’s kind of normal. When they both kick, and if she’s met the terms of the trust, and that’s all outlined, Gwen gets their house in New York, the house in the Hamptons, her mother’s jewelry, some other specific stuff, and five hundred million. Any full Caucasian child she produces, in wedlock, gets fifty mil—in trust with her in charge. Natural Order gets the rest.”
“It’s a lot of rest.”
“If she fails to meet the terms of the trust, she gets zip.”
“You could say her cold comes from the natural order of things.” Eve started the car. “Let’s go heat her up.”
10
The doormen didn’t bother to scowl this time.
In the lobby, Felicity merely nodded in their direction as she signed for a delivery at the desk.
“I’ve got a prenup on this disc.” Peabody continued to read as they got on the elevator. “I don’t know much about them, but it looks like she gets to keep any gifts—jewelry, and so on—given to her by him before or during the marriage should they dissolve the engagement or marriage.”
“She’ll sell that million-dollar rock on her finger,” Eve predicted. “Bet your ass on it.”
“She gets half of any property purchased during the marriage,” Peabody continued. “If they have children, he agrees to pay ten K a month, per child, in addition to all educational and medical expenses for each child until they reach the age of twenty-one or graduate from college, whichever is later. If she chooses professional parent status with said children, he agrees to pay her an additional five, per month, per child, until they reach that same marker.”
“So brew up a kid, keep raking it in, in addition to raking in the trust. She sure couldn’t afford for Ariel to have a snit and blab.”
Eve walked down the hallway on the forty-eighth floor. “It’s a hell of a lot of motive.”
She pressed the buzzer.
Ms. Huffman has issued a Do Not Disturb. Please see the desk staff in the lobby.
Eve held up her badge. “Inform Ms. Huffman the cops are at the door, and the warrant to enter and search is still in effect. We will enter the premises, one way or the other.”
One moment please.
Gwen wrenched open the door.
No virginal white and subdued makeup this time. She wore bold red lounging pajamas and no makeup at all to disguise swollen, red-rimmed eyes.
“Haven’t you done enough?” She nearly screeched it. “You’ve ruined my life, broken my engagement, humiliated me.”
“From where I’m standing you did that all by yourself. We can talk about all this out in the hall. I bet some of your neighbors would love it. Or you can step back and let us in.”
“What do you want?” She whirled away from the door.
“Answers that don’t include lies.”