Celebrity in Death (In Death #34)(101)

“Goddamn it.”

“Those aren’t the magic words.”

“All right, but it damn well better be good. It better be gold. We’re off the record.”

“Steinburger not only killed Harris and A. A. Asner, he’s killed at least seven other people. I think it’s more, but we’re sticking with the nine total right now. He’s been killing people for forty years.”

Nadine blinked once, slowly. “Joel Steinburger. Academy Award–winning, Kennedy Center–honoring, Big Bang Productions–founding Joel Steinburger, a killer, for four decades?”

“Starting with one of his housemates in college, and ending, if I have anything to do with it, with Asner.”

“Fuck me sideways.”

“Thanks, but you’re just not my type.”

“You’re sure.”

“I’m sure men are my type, but if I went for women, I’d do you.”

Nadine gave Eve a punch on the shoulder with the heel of her hand. “About Steinburger. Of course you’re sure. You wouldn’t tell me if you weren’t sure. Jesus. Jesus. I actually have to hike.” She pushed up, strode along the path, back and forth in her crazy high, glossy shoes. “This is huge. It’s bigger than huge. It’s a monster story. It’s Godzilla. And a book, oh yeah, the follow-up bestseller with a guaranteed vid to follow with the Hollywood scandal connection.”

“And only nine people, give or take, had to die.”

“Just give me a minute, would you? I’m restraining myself from doing the mambo over this, and that’s taking some work. Joel Steinburger: Producer in Death.”

“Maybe you can brainstorm your titles after we put him away.”

Nadine sat again. “All right, I’m finished with the glee portion of my reaction. It probably wouldn’t have been quite so gleeful except I don’t like him. I expected to, wanted to. The man’s producing my book in a major screen event. I admire his work, a lot. But I found him pushy and petulant, and a little on the grabby side. He’s an ass-patter,” Nadine explained. “Tries to make it come off avuncular, but that didn’t wash for me so I’ve kept my ass at a distance.”

“Sex and money are big elements of his makeup, and the need to exert power. Ass-patting women is just a way to show he’s the one at the wheel.”

“You tracked him back to his housemate’s death? In college?”

“The working hypothesis is the housemate did his papers, or sold him papers at a fee—or found out Steinburger was buying his grades to keep from getting the boot. Steinburger pushed him down the stairs at their off-campus place. Or, possibly, it was an accident, then covered up. But when you dig in, there have been a lot of accidents resulting in death connected to him over the years. Too many.

“And I just got a recant, on record, from his alibi on the night Angelica Caulfield OD’d.”

“Angelica Caulfield. Oh God, f**k me inside out and sideways. Mind-mamboing. You think he killed Angelica f**king Caulfield.”

“I know he did. Just have to prove it. And there are more.”

Eve ran them through quickly as Peabody came to the bench with a jumbo sleeve of popcorn. Absently, she tossed some to a squirrel.

He was immediately joined by a swarm of his buddies.

“Jesus, Peabody.” Eve drew her legs back in.

“He looked hungry.”

“Now he’s an army, and here comes the frigging air force.”

Pigeons swooped so squirrel and bird gave each other the beady eye as they jostled for position.

“Get that out of here,” Eve ordered, “before they mount the attack. I think that one’s got a weapon.”

Looking aggrieved, and a little frightened, Peabody waded through the massing squirrels and pigeons and made a dash away with her sleeve.

“It’s the Free-Ager in her,” Eve muttered.

“There’s been speculation over Caulfield’s death and the paternity of the fetus for years. All the while … You can’t prove any of this. Yet. Or you wouldn’t be talking to me.”

“Peabody contacted the water cops before she decided to play fairy godmother to the wildlife. They’ll send divers down. We’re going to find the electronics, some of them anyway. We’ve got him connected to the boat—and the owner of the boat, his alibi for Caulfield, recanted with a detailed explanation of why she initially lied. I can and will bury him in circumstantial up to his neck. There’s the partially open dome and his aversion to smoke.”

“I can confirm that. Marlo and I had a couple of herbals in her trailer one day when we were going over a scene. He came by an hour later. You’d have thought we’d burned hazardous waste in there.”

“We’ll be tracking down wits from all the murders. I should have the case file and the electronics on the Buster Pearlman suicide by the time I get back to Central. This afternoon we’ll hold a media conference, and I’ll announce that we’re investigating new information, new evidence, and believe we’re close to making an arrest.”

“Trying to smoke him out?”

“He’ll worry about it, try to backtrack his steps, figure out if he made a mistake. Off-balance, he’s more likely to make one now. Mira’s worried, and I think she has cause, that he may go as far as offing one of the others to throw suspicion onto them. He’s done it before.”