Innocent in Death (In Death #24)(116)

“Well, it’s not a titanium vault, after all.”

Hands already sealed, Eve lifted out the bright pink book inside. It was leather-bound, and again had Rayleen’s name across it in glittery silver letters. It also had a lock, and this one appeared to use an old-fashioned key.

“Comp would be faster than handwritten pages,” she commented.

“And I’ll wager, however indulgent her parents, they wouldn’t allow her to passcode anything on a comp. This…” He tapped a finger on the book. “This seems harmless, very traditional, something a young girl might enjoy.”

She stepped back and let Roarke finesse the lock.

“I’m going to want copies of everything inside there,” she told him.

“Before you read it?”

“No. I want to put the last few pages on record first, then make the copies. But even more, I want to know.”

She flipped through the pink-tipped pages, found the last entry. With her recorder trained on the tidy handwriting on pale pink pages with shiny gold edges, she read out loud.

“This morning I wore my pink-and-black plaid skirt and pink knee boots, and my white sweater with flowers on the hem and cuffs. I looked very pretty. I had fruit and yogurt and seven-grain toast for breakfast, and asked Cora to make real orange juice. That’s what she gets paid for. I had Brain Teasers. It’s getting a little boring, so I might find a way to quit. But still, I like knowing I’m smarter than any of the other students. Just like I’m better than anyone in my dance class. I could, if I wanted, be a prima ballerina one day.

“After BT, Cora and I took a cab to the Met. I don’t see why we couldn’t use a car service. I’m going to ask Daddy about that. I like the art, but mostly everyone who painted anything is dead anyway. I could be a famous artist if I wanted, and have my paintings in the Met. People would pay a lot of money just to look at my paintings. But I think I’d sell mine to collectors. I don’t want people who don’t know anything and don’t deserve it to just stand there and stare at my work.”

“Interesting ego,” Roarke remarked.

Eve glanced up. “She had to have written this after her mother called them back home. And still, it’s full of I, I, I. Mira’s going to have a field day with this one.”

She looked back at the book, continued to read.

“I was supposed to meet my mother for lunch at Zoology. It’s my favorite place for lunch, and we had to book three weeks in advance for the reservation. One day, when I’m famous, I won’t need a stupid reservation to go anywhere. People will be grateful if I bother to eat in their restaurant.

“After, I was going to the salon for a hair styling and a pedicure. I’d already decided on the Carnival polish, with glitter. Then Cora’s ’link beeped and it was my mother calling us home. We had plans ! We had reservations, but I had to come home, and the whole day was spoiled. My mother wasn’t even dressed when we got there. She’s so selfish.

“But it’s really all that nosy Lieutenant Dallas’s fault. I thought, at first, she was interesting, but she’s not. She’s just mean and pushy and stupid. Now I’ve had to fix everything. Again. It’s just as well, really. My mother’s so weak and silly, and my daddy’s been paying more attention to her lately than to me. So, I’ve taken care of it. It was easy. The easiest one so far.

“She hid pills in her lingerie drawer. As if I wouldn’t find them! All I had to do was make her some tea, and put the pills in it. Like I did with smelly old Mrs. Versy at the Kinley House last year. I had to use more with Mommy because Mrs. Versy was old and half-dead anyway.”

“Well, Christ,” Roarke murmured.

“Yeah. I wondered if there were others along the way.” Eve read on.

“She got into bed just like a baby for me. I watched her drink the tea. That was the best part. She drank it just like I told her, then I waited until she fell asleep. I left the empty bottle right there, so when Daddy gets home in a few hours he’ll find her that way. I’ll cry and cry. I’ve been practicing in the mirror, and I’m so good at it! Everyone will feel so sorry for me, and give me whatever I want. Everyone will think my mother killed that idiot Mr. Foster and that nasty Mr. Williams. It’s such a tragedy! I have to laugh.

“I’m going to do some art now, and listen to some music. I’ll just be in my room when Daddy gets home. His best girl being quiet as a mouse so her mother can sleep. And sleep and sleep.

“I have to go put this book in the recycler now. That’s annoying, and that’s Lieutenant Dallas’s fault, too! But, it’s okay. Daddy will buy me another diary, a better one. He’ll buy me anything I want now, and take me anywhere I want to go.

“I think we should go somewhere warm and pretty, with a really nice beach.”

Roarke said nothing for a moment. “She wrote that while her mother was, as far as she knew, dead or dying in the other room.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“She shouldn’t waste her time with art and ballet. She should consider becoming a professional assassin. She has the constitution for it.”

“I’m going to make sure she has plenty of time to consider her options—inside maximum security.” She looked down at the book again, at the tidy yet still childish penmanship. “Let’s get this copied. I want Mira and Whitney to see it ASAP. Then I want to read the rest.”