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

Nadine swung into her office, where her cameraman fiddled with some sort of light on a pole, adjusted a kind of umbrella. Nadine closed the door. “You there.” She pointed to a chair, then put in an earbud while the cameraman set up a second camera on a tripod.

“They wanted this in-studio,” Nadine said as she sat, angled toward the second camera. “But I didn’t want to argue with you about that. The producer will toggle between cameras as we talk, as it works in the booth, and on screen. You just talk to me, as usual.

“I want sharp focus, no softening filters,” she told the cameraman, all business. “This isn’t a memorial, it’s straight news. I’m going to ask you about what happened in the bar—what you saw, did. You were a witness as well as being the primary. I’ll ask the usual. Leads, suspects, progress, but I’m going to lead off with the eyewitness.”

“I’m not going to give you every detail, anything that applies to the ongoing that could compromise it.”

“Understood.” Nadine laid a finger on her earpiece. “They’re about to throw it to me … We’re on in five, four…” She held a hand below camera level to show Eve three, two, one.

“This is Nadine Furst. With me is Lieutenant Eve Dallas, who has agreed to give Channel Seventy-Five an exclusive interview on the shocking and tragic death of our own Larinda Mars. Lieutenant Dallas, will you confirm you were actually in Du Vin, a popular downtown bar, when Larinda was attacked?”

“I can. I was off duty, meeting a colleague.”

“Will you tell us, as an experienced investigator, as a witness, what transpired?”

Eve laid out what she’d decided to tell the media, answered Nadine’s questions. Yes, they’d interviewed the individual the victim had drinks with before the attack. No, that individual wasn’t a suspect at this time. They played the usual game of pitch and bat away on investigative details. And planted the seed—as she wanted the killer to know—they believed the victim had been target specific, and might have been followed into the bar.

“The fact that an NYPSD officer was on scene has given us an advantage. The investigation began immediately, and will continue with all possible resources. I can’t tell you any more at this time.”

Recognizing the signal, Nadine nodded. “Thank you, Lieutenant, and let me express particular gratitude from everyone here at Channel Seventy-Five for your dedication in the pursuit of the person responsible for the violent act that has taken the life of one of our family.

“And we’re clear.”

Nadine sat back. “You danced around a lot of that.”

“Open and active. Ditch the camera.”

“Sam, would you take them out?”

Eve tapped her ear. Smiling, Nadine removed her earbud. “And this.”

Eve sat, silent, until they were alone.

“You can share we interviewed all the staff at the bar, and reinterviewed two this morning. Mars was a regular, and we’ve spoken to her usual waiter twice. We don’t, at this time, suspect anyone on the staff.”

“Okay, good.”

“Now. Off the record until I give you the green.”

“Understood.”

“She may not have been who she said she was.”

“That’s not understood.”

“She had substantial face and body work.”

Almost amused, Nadine sat back. “Dallas, a lot of people, especially on-screen talent, have face and body work.”

“Substantial. Altering.”

Nadine’s sharp green eyes narrowed. “As in she changed her face?”

“DeWinter is working on a possible reconstruction. If she can pull it off, we’ll know, and may be able to identify, who she was before she was Larinda Mars.”

“That’s interesting. Still, she wouldn’t be the first to want to change faces. And yet…”

“And yet. She’s got a cache of about a million in cash in her home safe.”

“A million?” Nadine’s shoulders shot straight. “Cash?”

“And jewelry worth easily as much. Art Roarke says is up there, too. Two underground accounts—so far. Several million each.”

“How the hell did she—” Breaking off, Nadine held up a hand. “She didn’t just try to extort for information, for contacts, for career enhancement. Straight blackmail?”

Handy, Eve thought, when you didn’t have to spell it all out. “She’s going to have tallied up a long enemies list, and some on that list are going to be right here, at Seventy-Five. So, when I say give shovels to people you trust, I mean trust implicitly. We believe her killer to be a male, but that doesn’t mean he’s not connected to a female she blackmailed. And I trust you, Nadine, to tell me if you dig up something on somebody here at Seventy-Five.”

“Squeezing me,” she replied.

“Killing, killing like this particularly—planned, cool enough to kill in a public place—takes a certain mind-set. Once you have that mind-set, it’s easier to have it again. If you dig up anything, you tell me, or you risk putting not just yourself but whoever has the shovel in danger.”

“Damn it.” Nadine pushed to her feet, walked over to a friggie, yanked out a water bottle. “Damn it. I know you’re right, but it’s not a snap, Dallas. I didn’t give two hot fucks about Larinda, but when I said ‘our family’? That’s absolute truth. A lot of people here are family to me.”