Imitation in Death (In Death #17)(47)

Go, Peabody, Eve thought, and leaned back against the elevator wall as her aide ran it through.

"Thinks about them, because he probably imagines f**king any woman who's remotely, attractive. But he doesn't like them. He kept calling you - that woman. Never referred to you by name or rank. And there was a lot of passion in the way he said it."

"Good job"

"I don't know that I found out anything really useful. Except now that I think about it, I can see him doing the murders."

"You found out he's lying to his lover, and if he isn't actively cheating-which he likely is-he's open to cheating. You found out that he had the opportunity to commit both murders: So he's a liar and a cheat. Doesn't make him. a murderer, but he's a liar and a cheat with opportunity, with access to t e stationery found at both crime scenes, and that he has an-attitude toward women. That's not bad for the day."

Carmichael Smith was in the studio-in New L.A.-so she gave him a pass for the day. She found Niles Renquist so heavily wrapped in red tape that she dec. to do attend run around him and aim for his wife.

The Renquists' New York home wasn't Breen's upwardly mobile family neighborhood, or Carmichael's trendy loft. It was all dignity and restrained grace in faded brick and tall windows. - The entrance hall, where they were admitted with considerable reluctance and disapproval by a uniformed housekeeper who -could have given Summerset a run for his money, was done in creams and.burgundies and the subtle sheen of religiously polished antiques.

Lilies, white and burgundy in a crystal vase, sat on a long narrow table along the staircase and scented the air. Along with it was an echoing hush. she associated with empty houses or churches. - "It's like a museum," Peabody said out of the corner of.her mouth. "You and Roarke have all this cool, rich people stuff, but it's different. People live there."

Before Eve could respond there was the female sound of heels on wood. People lived here,.too,. Eve thought, but she had a feeling they were a different type altogether.

The woman who walked toward them was as beautiful, as dignified, and as quietly elegant as the home she'd made. Her hair was a. soft blonde, carefully coiffed into-a short bob that caught the light. Her face was pale and creamy, with a hint of rose on cheeks and lips. This one, Eve thought, never left the house without sunscreen, top to toe.

She wore widelegged pants, killer heels, and a blousy shirt, with a faint sheen, all in cream.

"Lieutenant Dallas." There was a high-toned drift of England in her voice, and the hand she offered was cool. "Pamela Renquist. I'm sorry, but I'm expecting company shortly. If you'd contacted my secretary, I'm sure we could have arranged an appointment at a more convenient time."

"Then I'll try to keep the inconvenience short." -

"If this is about the stationery,- your time would be of more use speaking with my secretary. She handles the bulk of my correspondence." -

"Did you buy the stationery, Mrs. RenquistT'

"Quite possibly." Her face never changed, held-its mildly pleasant expression as she spoke with the kind of undiluted politeness Eve always found insulting. "I enjoy shopping when in London, but I rarely keep track of every little purchase. We certainly have the paper, so it hardly matters if I bought it myself; or Niles, or one of our assistants made the purchase for us. I was under the impression my husband had discussed this with you."

"He did. There is considerable repetition and overlap in a homicide-investigation. Could you tell me where you and your husband were on the night-"

"We were precisely where Niles has already told you we were on the night of that unfortunate person's murder." Her tone became frigid and dismissive. "My husband is a very busy than, Lieutenant, and I know he's already taken the time to speak with you regarding this matter. I have nothing to add to what he's already told you, and I'm expecting guests."

Not so fast, sweetheart. "I haven't yet spoken to your husband regarding a second murder. I'd like you to tell me where you both were on Sunday, between eight and noon."

For the first time since the woman had walked down the hall, she looked flustered. It was momentary, just a slight heightening of color on that creamy skin, a slight frown around the rosy mouth. Then it was smooth and pale again.

"I find this very tedious, Lieutenant."

"Yeah, me, too. But there you go. Sunday, Mrs. Renquist

Pamela; drew air sharply through her chiseled nostrils. "We have brunch on Sundays at ten-thirty. Prior to that, my husband would have enjoyed a well-deserved hour in our relaxation tank, as he does every Sunday, when schedule permits,..between nine and ten. While he was doing so, I would have joined him in our home health center for my own Sunday morning hour of exercise. At eleven-thirty, after brunch, my daughter would have gone with her au pair to a museum, -while my husband and I prepared to go to the club for a doubles match with friends. Is that detailed enough, Lieutenant?"

She said lieutenant as ;another woman might have said nosy,, insolent, bitch. Eve had to give her credit for it. "You and your husband were home on Sunday from eight until noon."

"As I've just said."

"Mummy..."

. They both turned and looked at the young girl-gold and pink and white, as pretty as a frosted cake-on the stairs. A woman of about twenty-five, with a spill of black hair clipped back neatly at her nape, held the girl's hand.