Secrets in Death (In Death #45)(113)

“Are you waiving your right to counsel at this time?” Eve repeated.

“Yes. And you’re going to listen!”

Eve walked over, sat on the side of the bed. “Happy to, I get paid either way. We’re on the record here, Bill.”

“She was a spider, a leech.”

“Who?”

“You know damn well. Larinda Mars. She was blackmailing Annie, threatening to break a story about how Annie defended herself against a rapist when she was just a teenager. She bled her month after month. Mars, she held that over Annie’s head, said she’d spin the story so it came off Annie was whoring, like her bio mother, and was a junkie, like her bio mother. Annie would lock herself in her office and cry her heart out. And what did Bic do about it? Nothing! He did nothing to ease her pain, to protect her.”

“So you did.”

“You’re damn right.”

“Did she tell you all this? Annie? Did she come to you for help?”

His chin jutted up. “She’d never unburden herself that way, never let herself lean or ask for help. But I could see, months ago I could see how upset she was. She lost weight, wasn’t sleeping. She and Bic would close themselves in her office to talk about it.”

“Her private office?” Eve asked. “You listened to conversations they had in her private office? Oh, Bill, did you bug her office?”

His jaw tightened. “I’m Annie’s personal assistant, and I need to know what she needs, often before she does. I have to know her moods, her difficulties. I did what had to be done to protect her. I’m the one who looked after Annie, not Bic. I’m the one who confronted that bitch, not Bic.”

“When did you confront Mars?”

“Months ago. The way she’d just stroll in whenever she liked, bag little pieces, even in-depth interviews with people Annie had worked, honestly, forthrightly, to get on the show. You can thank Ilene Riff for that. She’s the one who fed that bitch names and times. Arrest her.”

As his venom spewed, Eve thought Riff could consider herself lucky. Hyatt would have killed her eventually.

But she simply said, “So noted. You confronted Mars.”

“You’re damn right I did. I told her straight out she had to stop tormenting Annie, that I wouldn’t tolerate it. And she laughed at me, she insulted me. She dared me to go to the police, and said if I did, Annie would be ruined, and I’d be to blame.”

“You realized words wouldn’t be enough to stop her.”

Lost in his own version of heroism, Hyatt leaned forward.

“Do you understand she wouldn’t, couldn’t be reasoned with? She was bleeding Annie. It wasn’t the money, it was the stress, the constant reminder of something horrible that happened when she was so young, so defenseless.”

“You decided to bleed Mars. Literally.”

“It was justice. You’re supposed to stand for justice, but you didn’t stand for Annie, did you? I exterminated a spider. I did what had to be done.”

Eve made a noncommittal sound. “It took planning, I’ll give you that. Planning and precision—and, you could say, some poetry. You spent the months since she laughed at you planning it out, following her routine.”

“She wasn’t the only one who could dig up dirt, dig up secrets. I found out she was doing the same thing to a lot of other people. Making them pay so she wouldn’t expose them. No doubt some of them deserved it,” he said dismissively, “but she was despicable.”

“Back to the poetry of it all. How did you come up with the method?”

“I wanted her to bleed—that’s the justice. I found out how to make her bleed.”

“Smart. And you knew her pickup locations, the routines of them.”

“She liked having her victims have to sit there, pay for her drinks. I could see how she liked it.”

“How’d you decide on switching swipe cards with Kellie Lowry?”

“She had her routine, too. Twice a week she stayed until between seven and seven-fifteen. Clockwork. Mars met the people she was bleeding at Du Vin on Tuesdays, and she’d finish up with them by about seven, no later than seven-thirty. Logging out with Kellie’s card gave me the alibi I needed if anybody asked. Mars usually hit the restroom before she left. Primped herself up for wherever she was going next. I just had to wait.”

“You followed her down,” Eve prompted.

“Gave her a minute, went down. It had to be fast. I’d timed it out. I could block the door for a minute if I had to, but it had to be in and out and gone, even though it would take her up to four or five minutes to bleed out.”

He stopped to take a breath, and looked, for a moment, pensive. “It had to be done,” he concluded. “She had to be stopped.”

“You walked into the women’s restroom.”

“She smirked at me when I went in. Smirked, and made some insulting comment about knowing I didn’t have a dick so I needed the women’s room. I walked right up to her—my ears were buzzing, buzzing, but I walked right up to her. I sliced her arm just where I’d practiced. She didn’t smirk then.”

Tears gathered in his eyes. “‘That’s for Annie,’ I said when she grabbed her arm and stumbled back. For Annie. And even though I wanted to keep slicing her, I just walked out. I held the door for ten seconds, just in case. My legs shook a little, and I needed to catch my breath. Then I went up the stairs, walked out right behind a group of people. And it was done. Annie was free.”