Strangers in Death (In Death #26)(117)

“Oh please.”

“After she killed her husband, she blackmailed me. She said she’d call the police, that she’d tell them I was having an affair with her husband, and that she knew he was meeting me that night. I was terrified. I met her that day, outside her building, to give her the last payment. I drove out of the city to that rest area, and I gave her the last payment. I told her it had to be the last, and she was angry. That must be why she killed Tommy.”

“How much she sting you for? Quick, quick,” Eve said when Ava hesitated. “How much?”

“Two hundred thousand dollars.”

“See, you should’ve lowballed it. That’s too much for her to hide, too much for you to skim without leaving crumbs.”

“I sold some jewelry.”

“No, Ava, no.” Heaving a sigh, Eve leaned in. “Now you’re disappointing me. I gave you more credit. We can check that. First, going back, Suzanne doesn’t have the brains or the balls to blackmail anyone. Going further back, not only wasn’t she in the room when Ned bought it, but she’s too short to have executed the killing blow. This is basic forensics, and juries are pretty savvy there. Got you cold on that one. Witnesses, forensics, your own statement putting you there.”

“She didn’t come. She didn’t come as arranged, and he attacked me.”

“Who? Let’s be specific since we’ve got such a winding road here.”

Ava picked up her cup again, drank. “Suzanne’s husband.”

“Ned Custer attacked you?”

“Yes. He wanted sex, and I told him Suzanne was coming, and he was furious, and attacked me. I was terrified; you have to understand. He was going to rape me, so I grabbed the knife.”

“From where?”

“From…”

“Quick!” Eve snapped and had Ava jolting again. “Where’d you get the knife?”

“From him. He had the knife. He threatened me with it, and we struggled. I lashed out, in fear for my life.”

“You killed Ned Custer.”

“Yes, yes, but in self-defense. He was a mad man, waving the knife, shouting. He tore at my clothes. I was terrified.”

“I’ll take the admission of guilt, but not the plea. And neither will a jury. Basic forensics again, Ava. You took him out from behind.”

“We were struggling.”

“With one, clean slice. No defensive wounds, no signs of struggle on him or in the room. You did a damn good job of it.”

“I want a lawyer. Now.”

“Sure. While we’re taking care of that,” Eve said as she began to gather the evidence bags and files, “I’ll go have a little chat with Suzanne. She should be here by now.”

“It was her idea.”

“I’m sorry, Ava, you’ve invoked your right to counsel. I can’t take any further statements from you until such time as—”

“Fuck the lawyer. I don’t want a damn lawyer. I need your help. Aren’t you a public servant? Isn’t it your duty to help someone in trouble? Isn’t that what I pay you for?”

“So I’m told. For the record, you’re again waiving your right to counsel?”

“Yes, yes, yes. It was her idea. I was upset with Tommy for some silly thing, and I’d been drinking. She came to my room, at the retreat, and we started to talk.”

Ava’s breath came fast. Eve imagined her thoughts came even faster.

“She said we’d both be better off without our husbands. I was in a mood, I agreed. Then she hatched this idea about how each of us would kill the other’s. It was foolishness, or so I believed. We talked and talked, plotting it out. Laughing about it. It was just a joke. I was awfully drunk, just feeling blue and ridiculous, and it made me laugh to speculate on how we’d do it.

“But then weeks later, she came to me and told me it was time. I was horrified, of course. I told her she had to be out of her mind to think I’d do such a thing. Out of her mind to believe I actually wanted my Tommy dead. She was…fierce. If I didn’t do what we’d agreed, she would kill Tommy. I wouldn’t know when or how, but she would kill him. She meant it. The more I argued, pleaded, protested, the more vicious she became. I did it to save my husband, I did it to save his life.”

“You’re scraping bottom now, but thanks for the ‘I did it.’ And the confession of the initial plot.”

“Hers! Hers! It was her plot.”

“She couldn’t plot her way out of her own apartment. Look at this.” Eve tapped the evidence bags. “Didn’t you tell her to get rid of this stuff? But no, she hauls it home and stuffs it in her closet. You picked a moron for a partner, Ava—or a patsy, depending on your view of it. But you screwed up plenty. Both of your husbands killed in sex-related murders? I’m not the moron here. You’re too stupid to pull it off, too hyped on giving your own statement enough juice to put you into media spotlight. It’s that PR training. Any story’s a good story. You f**ked this up, all the way back to your father-in-law.”

“You’ll never prove it. None of it. Everything you have is speculation.”

“Oh, lots more than. And there’s the little matter of your confessions.”

“You twisted my words around. You tricked me, put words in my mouth. And you didn’t advise me of my rights before the interview.”