Strangers in Death (In Death #26)(114)

As they rode up, others rode down. On the down, a man in a stained T-shirt and dingy dreads who Roarke would have made for a cop at six blocks, swiveled, pointed. “Hey, hey! That’s the one there. That’s the broad left with Cuss. Hey!”

Ava angled away toward Trueheart’s agreeable face. “Sorry,” he said. “We get all kinds through here.”

He led her off the glide, across a short span of floor, just as a female officer walked Bebe Petrelli toward the down. The reaction of both civilians struck Roarke as priceless. Shock on both faces, distress following on Petrelli’s, fury darkening Ava’s, even as the cop quickly hustled Petrelli to the left and away.

Little fissures in the mask, Roarke noted. And up the next glide they went. This time Baxter brought Cassie Gordon on just below. Cassie’s gaze tracked up, latched. “Well, hey. Hey, Ava!” A sharp and deadly amusement colored Cassie’s voice. “What’re you doing here?”

Ava glanced back, skimmed her cold eyes over Cassie. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“Sure, but then I’m just one of the horde. How’s it going?”

“You’ll have to excuse me. I’m pressed for time. Can we get this done?” she demanded of Trueheart.

“Yes, ma’am, we’re nearly there. This way.” Deliberately, he walked her by Homicide where the night clerk from the sex flop sat on a bench outside, flanked by two cops. He stared at her as she approached. The fissures widened as color flooded Ava’s face.

“Right in here.” Trueheart opened the door of Interview A. “I’ll make sure the lieutenant knows you’re here. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee maybe.”

“I’d prefer something sweet and cold. Ginger ale in a glass.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

In Observation, Eve hooked her thumbs in her pockets. “Putting her game face on. Knows we’re watching. Anybody with a brain, and brains she’s got, knows how Interview works.”

“Spooked her some.”

“Yeah, but pissed her off more. That’s what’s going to hang her. Well, time to go kick her ass.”

“Want me to kiss your head?”

“Want me to mention your sick day pajamas?”

“That’s mean. You make me proud. Go skin your fish.”

Eve didn’t want to keep Ava waiting long. Keep the temper up, those little edges of fear. She walked into Interview carrying plenty of files and attitude. “Mrs. Anders.”

“Lieutenant. I’ve had about enough of your incompetence, and your callousness. I demand to see your chief.”

“We’ll get to that. Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, in interview with Anders, Ava, regarding case number HA-32003, Anders, Thomas A., and all related events and crimes.” Eve dropped into a chair. “We’ve got a lot to clear up, Ava.”

“Mrs. Anders. I’d like to clear up the way you and this department have handled the media.”

Eve only smiled. “It’s been an interesting couple of days for me. How about you?” At Ava’s stony stare, Eve’s smile widened. “I don’t catch many like these, and I’ve got to hand it to you: You damn near pulled it off. I bet you’re wondering how I’m going to get you for murder.”

“What a hideous thing to say to me! A slanderous thing to say. I didn’t kill Tommy. I loved my husband. I was out of the country when he died, and you know that very well.”

“Save the shiny eyes and tear-choked voice. I know you.” Eve leaned forward. “I knew you the minute I saw you. You’re a grasping, greedy, self-important excuse for a human being. But you’ve got brains, Ava, and you’ve got patience. So what it comes down to is how you want to play this part of it. Let me give you something to think about. Suzanne Custer.”

“Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

“Think about it. Think about the fact that when we bring her in, we’ll give her a chance to slip and slide. She’ll have the opportunity to wheel and deal. Personally, I think she’s going to grab it like a lifeline.”

“Lieutenant Dallas, I have no idea what you’re trying to do here, unless it’s generate more media frenzy than you’ve already managed. And that you’re somehow blaming me for that, and the fact you’ve been reprimanded for mishandling it. It’s been established, without any doubt, that I was in St. Lucia when my Tommy was killed.”

“You weren’t in St. Lucia when Ned Custer’s throat was slit.”

“I don’t know anyone by that name. What does that have to do with me?”

“Are you going to deny you know Suzanne Custer?”

“I know a great many people.” She paused, offered a considering frown. “Suzanne? Yes, of course. I know her slightly. She’s one of our mothers.”

“The same Suzanne Custer whose husband was murdered in a sex flop in Alphabet City a couple of months ago.”

“How horrible.” Ava pressed a hand to her own throat. “Poor Suzanne. I try not to follow media reports on violence. I’m so terribly sorry to hear about this, but I don’t know what it has to do with me, or with my Tommy.”

“Makes you wonder what Suzanne might say if she gets a chance to address that.”