Celebrity in Death (In Death #34)(83)

“So.” She took a long, slow drink. “Could you say who you heard, maybe who you didn’t hear, while we were in the theater watching the gag reel?”

“Not for certain, no. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Me either. That part of my to-do list was mostly a bust. I talked to an LC Asner used for palship and sex.”

“Always nice to have sex with a pal.”

“She has sex with her pal the afternoon Asner was murdered, then made him a sandwich.”

“Now that is a pal.”

“Says the man eating steak.”

“Where’s my sex?”

“You ought to be able to find it.” She sent him an easy smile. “So, Asner told the sandwich-making LC he’d decided to play something straight, even though it might put him in a squeeze.”

“Interesting. Do you think he’d decided to turn over the recording?”

“Maybe. Piecing together his state of mind—from his secretary, conversations he had with his lawyer friend, and now this—I’m leaning toward him learning his client, who I’m betting he made as Harris, had been murdered, which caused him to rethink any possible bonus round with the recording. Play it straight, turn it in, retire, and move to the islands.”

“But end up dead instead.”

“Yeah. His sex pal said he got tagged on his ’link right before he left. She didn’t hear the conversation, except that he agreed to meet the caller in his office that night at ten.”

“Indicating his killer contacted him.”

“Exactly. Indicating the killer knew about him, and how to contact him.”

“From Harris’s ’link?”

It was good to have someone who connected the dots. “That’s my bet. He arranges the meet, kills Asner, hauls out the files and electronics—covering all the bases. People kill for all sorts of strange reasons, but I’m not buying this is over that recording.”

“You think Asner—through Harris, or vice versa—had something on the killer.”

“Something he intended to turn over along with the M and M recording, yeah. Or the killer was afraid he would. Digging into dirt, that was Harris’s MO, and that’s what fits. Her brother came to see me today.”

They ate as she told Roarke about the conversation.

“It’s a sad commentary on a life, isn’t it?” he commented. “She not only turned against those who loved her, but used them for her own gain. She’d rather have had that gain, wield that power, than have real affection, real friendship.”

“Did she choose to be like her father, or was she just like him?”

Roarke laid a hand over hers. “You’re living proof of the power of choice.”

“Mostly I believe that’s how it works. You decide. Like the workout game. Go right, go left, up or down, and deal with the results. So, yeah, I think she made the choices. I think she believed she liked it that way. But she wasn’t happy. You could see she wasn’t happy with the choices.”

“Yet she continued to make them.”

“Until someone chose to kill her. It wasn’t Roundtree or Connie. I’m saying—at least with what I have now—it wasn’t Marlo or Matthew. It wasn’t Preston.”

“You’ve narrowed your list considerably.”

“The killer opened the pool dome.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he or she tried to close it. If Harris had opened it, there’d be no reason for the killer to close it. None I can see. The dome was partially open when we discovered the body.”

“I remember that, yes.”

“It’s acting up, doesn’t close properly unless you turn it off and on again. The killer didn’t know. Connie would have, as she used the pool daily.”

“Are you thinking someone came in from the outside?”

She paused with a fry halfway to her mouth. “Outside what?”

“The dome, darling.”

“Shit. Shit. I hadn’t thought of that. How would they get up there?”

“All manner of ways,” he said, smiling. “Sometimes the best way to get in is to go down. A remote to open the dome, a weak spot security-wise, I’d imagine.”

“You’re thinking like a B-and-E man.”

“Not anymore. Or only in the service of my wife.”

“Ha. I’ll have to run probabilities now that you put it in my head, but I don’t think anybody came from out or up. I think the killer opened the dome from the inside. Harris had or was smoking those doctored herbals, and six of them would put up a hell of a cloud in a smallish, enclosed area. She couldn’t have been up there long, but there were six butts.”

“Enclosed dome, smoke. Yes, I can see that. He wanted the fresh air. Or she. You seem to be down to two of each. Julian and Steinburger, Andrea and Valerie.”

“Or a combination thereof. Somebody could be covering for somebody. And I’m looking at Steinburger and Valerie, as—as far as I know—they’re the only ones lying to me. She’d be more likely to cover for him than him for her.”

“Unless she knows too much about him, things he’d prefer didn’t get out. He might be willing to cover for her then.”