Innocent in Death (In Death #24)(45)

“Squeezed into your schedule.”

“There’s always a little wiggle room. You’ll give me the gist,” she continued as she rose to go to her office AutoChef. “Tough case?”

“Mostly they are.”

“You look especially tired.”

“Getting nowhere. The vic was a teacher. History. Private school,” she began and filled in the blanks while Mira programmed the flower tea she liked.

Mira gestured to a chair as Eve spoke, then took one herself as she handed Eve one of the tea cups.

“Poisoning is remote,” Mira commented as she sipped. “Keeps the hands clean. No physical contact necessary. Passionless, most usually. Often a female mode. Not exclusively, of course, but often a choice.”

“I can’t pin down a motive. Highest on the list is murder to silence him. He was, allegedly, aware that one of his fellow teachers liked to rack up affairs with faculty members, mothers of students.”

“Which, potentially, would be grounds for disciplinary action, even dismissal. Ricin poisoning,” Mira mused. “A little old-fashioned, even exotic. And not as efficient as other options, but easier to come by if you’ve any knowledge of the science.”

“Worked pretty damn well.”

“Yes, it certainly can. So the murder was planned, timed, executed. Not impulse, not in the heat of the moment. Calculated.”

Balancing the saucer on her knee in a way Eve found both baffling and admirable, Mira continued. “It’s possible, of course, that the poison was already in the killer’s milieu, and that easy access made it the method chosen. From what you’ve told me, the victim was unaware he was in any danger, was under any threat, had incurred anyone’s anger.”

“He was going about his routine,” Eve confirmed. “No one close to him reports any hitch in his stride.”

“I would say that the killer harbored this resentment, this anger, or this motive while continuing to go about his business. Planned the details, accessed the method. The killing was simply something that needed to be done. He didn’t need to watch the victim die, or touch him, speak to him. He wasn’t concerned that, in all likelihood, it would be a child or children who discovered the body.”

Mira considered it another minute. “If it was a parent, I would have to say it’s one who puts his own needs and desires above that of his child. A teacher? One who sees the children as a job, as units rather than children. This was means to an end. Efficiently done, with a bare minimum of involvement.”

“He’s not looking for attention or for glory. He’s not crazy.”

“I would say not. But someone who can follow a timetable, and works in an orderly fashion.”

“I’m going to look at the faculty again, the support staff. Timetables are the bedrock of school systems, the way I remember it. And someone inside the system would have a better, and clearer, knowledge of the vic’s schedule.”

She pushed up and paced a little. “Besides, they’re supposed to be there. Required. Nothing suspicious about showing up for work, doing your job. Some of the parents, the guardians come in with a kid here and there, deliver something, hold a meeting, but the killer had to know that if his name was on the sign-in list when it generally wasn’t, we’d take a good look.”

“Would it be possible for someone to have accessed the building without signing in?”

“There’s always a way, and it’s going to be checked out. But I don’t like it.” Eve sat again, pushed up again in a restless way that had Mira watching her. “It keeps the name out of the loop—potentially—but it’s not as efficient as just signing in as usual. Riskier than needed. The murder was risky, but like you said, calculated. Times. I bet the son of a bitch practiced.”

She stuffed her hands in her pockets, absently toyed with loose credits. “Anyway, thanks for the time.”

“I’ll read the file, give you a more formal profile and opinion.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just did. Dead guy. No solid leads.”

“Don’t you trust me, Eve?”

It was what Roarke had asked her the night before, in nearly the same patient tone. And it broke her. Her breath hitched in and out once before she controlled it. “There’s a woman,” she managed.

Mira knew Eve’s heart and mind well enough to understand it was very personal, and nothing to do with murder. “Sit down.”

“I can’t. I can’t. There’s a woman he used to know, used to be with. He might’ve loved her. I think he did. God. She’s back, and he’s…I don’t know what to do. I’m messing it up. I can’t stop messing it up.”

“Do you think he’s been unfaithful?”

“No.” Undone, she pressed her fingers to her eyes. “See, part of me wants to say, ‘Not yet.’ And the rest of me says, ‘That’s bullshit.’ It’s not his way. But she’s here, and she’s—she’s not like the others.”

“Let me say first that in my personal, and my professional opinion, Roarke loves you to the point where there isn’t room for anyone else. And I agree, being unfaithful to you isn’t his way. Not only because of that love, but because he respects you—and himself—far too much. Now. Tell me about the woman.”