Our Little Secret(37)

chapter




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15


Novak’s returned with renewed vigor, as if he spent the hour between twelve and one downing cans of Red Bull. I wish he’d brought me the coffee he’d promised. With the exception of two bathroom breaks, I’ve been sitting in this room for almost sixteen hours now. I’m starting to see double.

“We’ve just confirmed: Saskia Parker’s DNA is all over that elephant necklace.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing all this time?” I close my eyes. “I thought you already knew it was her necklace—you have it in a bag with her name on the label.”

Novak balks. He looks like a kid who’s presented his best artwork and been told it’s not that special. He stands, pacing to the window. Outside, the sky has been engulfed by darkness.

“Believe me, we’re getting somewhere. Fast. You should, too.”

“Right. Sure, Novak. Let me get on that.”

He sweeps his hair to the side and stares out the window.

“Who else’s DNA is on the necklace?” I ask.

“Why aren’t you asking where we found it?”

“Well, wherever it was, I didn’t put it there.”

He watches me for a moment. “We’re looking into Freddy. You know that, right? Tell me what you know. What’s relevant, I mean.”

It’s absurd how lost Novak is. He’s seriously their homicide guy? I could find Saskia quicker myself.

“Isn’t Freddy in one of your rooms down the corridor? Anything you want to know, you could probably ask him yourself.”

He continues staring out the window. “What was his apartment like? You spent a lot of time there.”

“You’re asking the wrong questions. You already have all your answers.”

“I have some of them.” He turns his head slightly. “How much time did you spend with him in his New York apartment?”

With his back to me, the line of skin below Novak’s hairline is startlingly white, as if it’s never before been exposed to sunlight.

“Are you asking about Freddy because you think he’s madly in love with me? That he’d do anything I asked of him? My God, this is ridiculous.”

“Is it? What would he do for you? How far would he go?”

“You’d have to ask him.”

“Am I right that Freddy shares your contempt for Saskia?”

“I’d say he’s sympathetic.”

Novak slopes against the wall with his hands in his pants pockets. He looks like a menswear ad, the kind my dad would respond to. “Why didn’t you move in with him?”

“Because I wasn’t in love with him.”

“Who were you in love with?”

Novak wants my answer to be HP. He’s literally bending at the knee, waiting to pounce on it.

“I stayed in Cove, if that’s what you’re asking, because it gets comfortable living where you’ve grown up. You know? We’re all creatures of habit.”

Novak laughs quietly.

“My dad bought a little house by the lake so I moved into it. It was easier to stay than go.”

“Didn’t HP and Saskia live in a house by the lake?”

“It’s a big lake.” We stare at each other, but his eyes are colder than mine. “Mom came to visit me a lot. She liked Freddy even more than I did: he was rich, successful—”

“Wait, what?” Novak pushes forwards and hurries to his chair. “Your mother had a connection with Freddy?”

There you go, Novak. You’re welcome. “I’m not sure if you’d call it a connection. I mean, if you ask me, it was a little one-sided. Mom liked that Freddy was articulate and refined. He’s debonair like a young Laurence Olivier, darling, or a Ralph Fiennes.”

He’s really scribbling now.

“So, did she make actual advances on him?”

“Advances?” I take pleasure in saying it: “Oh, I suppose. I couldn’t say for sure how Freddy responded to them. Sometimes guys say one thing and do another. Don’t you find?”

Novak spins in his chair and signals to the camera in the far corner. It’s a circular motion with his right hand, as if he’s twirling a tiny hoop on his forefinger. Run the tape? Check the facts? Go get Shelley Petitjean? It’s a call to action, that much is clear.

“What did your mother say when she heard Saskia was pregnant with HP’s child?”

“Nothing. She covered her face with her hands.”

Suddenly Novak smacks the table, making me jump. “Where’s Saskia? Who’s got her? Is it Freddy? Or your mom? Are we really going to have to do this the hard way?” He crouches to get a proper view of my face. “Is Saskia dead, Angela? Is she being held? Or worse? If you know anything—anything at all—do you understand what it means not to tell me?” His next question comes out as a roar. “Why don’t you care?”

I slide my hands under my thighs. Novak sits down, knocking his chair back a few inches, and when I glance up he’s smoothing his hair back into place.

“Do you know where we found Saskia’s elephant necklace, Angela?”

“I’ve told you, no.”