Celebrity in Death (In Death #34)(121)

“Angelica was a neurotic, unhappy woman with a taste for drugs and alcohol. Pearlman was weak and greedy.”

“All that may be true, but neither of them self-terminated. You got rid of them, like you got rid of a nosy paparazzo, and a young assistant who got too clingy, an ex-wife who maybe pushed the wrong buttons. I’ve got nine on your scoreboard, Joel, and I’ll be looking for more. If they’re there, I’ll find them.”

“You’ll find nothing.” He reached up, loosened his tie slightly. “There’s nothing to find.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But you’re done. You’re over.”

“I’ve been in this business longer than you’ve been alive! I have more power, more influence than you can dream of. I’ll crush you.”

“You’re done,” she repeated, watching his color rise again. “You’re over. Unexpected wits, sloppy murder weapon wiping, a botched kill tonight, with Julian alive to spill everything.”

Eve let out a half laugh, eased a hip on the table—disrespect and light contempt in every gesture.

“And you just had to bitch to Nadine. She was wearing a wire, by the way, about the stench zoner added to Harris’s herbals. When that was one of those little details we kept back.

“You got cocky. Getting away with murder for so long, you got overconfident. Trying for two in two days, then following it up with a third? Hey, nobody could expect some slick Hollywood type to pull that off.”

“You’ll never prove it.”

“I will. All of it.” She held up the bag of pass codes. “This? Stupid. We’re smarter than you, Joel. I didn’t know how much smarter until this.”

He shoved up, started to lunge at her. She was on her feet in a finger snap.

“Come on,” she invited. “Take a shot. We’ll add Assaulting an Officer to the mix. I don’t mind a bit.”

“I would have made you.” He trembled—not from fear, Eve saw. From rage. “I would have made you with this production. You’d have been one of the most famous women on or off planet. The most admired police woman in their history.”

“Thanks. But I’m just a cop, and that’s good enough. It felt good to kill Asner, didn’t it? You don’t get to go that physical nearly often enough, do you? The pounding, the blood, the release of it. The power of it.”

“No one says no to me.” He swiped a hand through the air, balled it into a fist, rapped it on the table. “I told him to give me everything he’d gathered on Marlo and Matthew, on me. And he refused. A sudden conscience, going to take it all to the police?”

The fist slammed again, again. “Who did he think he was dealing with? Did he think he could blackmail me for more money? Stupid? He was stupid. He was the stupid one.”

“So you beat him to death.”

“I protected myself. My reputation. It’s the same as defending my life.”

“K.T. had to go, too. Same reason.”

“I made her. She had no loyalty, no gratitude, no respect. I did what had to be done, and that’s the end of it.”

“Not the end. You set up Julian to take the fall.”

“He’s a fool. Talented, but a fool. And weak. He’d have gone to you eventually. He wouldn’t have been able to stay strong. He’d have ruined himself, and me. He’d be better off dead.”

“So you were doing him a favor.”

Disgust surfaced, smeared his voice. “He couldn’t even die without being told how. I protected myself, my investment, my reputation. One I’ve built for more than half my life. I had every right.”

“No, you didn’t. And that’s the end of it.”

“Power has responsibility and privilege. You married a man who’d know that.”

“I married a man who knows more about real power than you ever will.”

“I have nothing more to say to you. My lawyers will deal with you from now on.”

“Fine with me.” She began putting the evidence bags back in the box she’d brought in. “Be sure to tell those lawyers you’re charged with multiple counts of murder, first and second degrees, and get ready for the media roasting.”

Eve smiled now. “You’re going to be a whole new kind of celebrity now—but your new status won’t get you into the VIP lounge.

“Go ahead and arrange for him to contact his lawyers, Peabody, then put him in a cell for the night and go get your crème brûlée.”

“That’s a big yes, sir.”

Eve walked out, passed the box to the officer waiting to take it back to Evidence. She smiled as Roarke strolled down to meet her.

“I didn’t think he’d actually confess.”

“He couldn’t help himself. All those names, the data, the evidence, came at him too fast. It scared him, and he can’t be scared. And I made him look stupid and weak, another unacceptable condition. Murder makes him feel powerful. He needed to feel powerful.”

“I’d say he’s about to suffer a major power outage.”

“Oh yeah. You know what?” They walked to her office where she retrieved her coat. “We closed two murders, and one attempted, and are well on the way to closing seven other murder cases. And nobody tried to punch me in the face, stab me, stun me, or blow me up. I think it’s a record.”