Witness in Death (In Death #10)(102)

"I would've helped," he said quietly. "I would have tried."

"I don't need your help. I don't need anyone." Her eyes glinted with an inner fury that burned into her voice. "I slept with you. Big deal. Don't think you mean anything to me. No man is ever going to mean anything to me."

"Once more, sex rears its ugly head," Eliza muttered. "Must we forever have glands interfering with art?"

"Eliza." Areena stepped forward, laid a hand on Carly's arm. "Carly, please. We need to get along. We need to stick together." She tried a bolstering smile. "What must Roarke think of us, bickering this way?"

"I'd say you're all under considerable strain." He paused, skimming his eyes over the faces turned toward him. "And that if any or all of you feel unable to continue with the run of the play, I'd prefer to know sooner than later."

Carly threw back her head and laughed. "Oh please. Each and every one of us would claw through broken glass for a chance to perform in this one. The publicity will pack this house for weeks when we open again, and every one of us knows it. Nothing as irksome as murder will get in our way."

She tossed her hair back, stretching out her arms as she crossed the stage. "So bring on a stand-in for the inestimable Sir Wilfred, cast a goddamn droid in the role, it'll still be standing room only."

She whirled back, arms still lifted. "Go ahead, Roarke, throw open the doors. Let the play begin."

As cues went, Eve figured it was near to perfect. "It never stopped," she said, and moved from the wing's shadows to the lights.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"Lieutenant Dallas." Carly lowered her arms slowly, let one hand rest on her cocked hip. "What an irritating surprise to see you again."

"Oh, Carly, do stop playing the diva," Eliza said irritably. "You're not nearly old enough to pull it off. Lieutenant, I hope you're here to tell us you've made the arrest you promised. You seemed very confident in your interview on Channel 75."

"An arrest is imminent."

"Not Kenneth." Areena pressed a hand to her heart.

"If it was Kenneth," Eliza put in, "I hope we can all be counted on to behave decently and stand behind him. I intend to." She brought her shoulders back, spoke grandly. "I don't desert my friends."

"That's admirable, Ms. Rothchild." Eve slipped her hands in her pocket, fingered the remote. "But Kenneth Stiles is no longer the primary suspect in this investigation. Richard Draco's killer is on this stage."

Even as she spoke, the houselights dimmed, the stage lights glowed. And the courtroom set slid into view. A long-bladed knife lay on the evidence table. Eve crossed to it, picked it up to weigh it in her hand.

"The murder took place on this stage. And so will the arrest."

"Well, we'll have to give you points for the dramatic twist, Lieutenant." Carly breezed forward, arranged herself languidly in the witness chair. "Please go on. We're all riveted."

"Cut it out, Carly. It had to be Kenneth." Michael sent Areena an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Areena, but it had to be. He tried to run, and then he tried to... well, escape permanently. If he wasn't guilty, why would he have done all that?"

"To protect someone," Eve said. "It's a recurring theme here." She touched the tip of the knife with her finger, then set it down again. "Miss Plimsoll fussing over Sir Wilfred to protect his health, no matter how many different ways he insults or evades her."

"Really, Lieutenant, that's a character." Eliza puffed up like a bird who'd just had its tail feathers plucked. "Surely you're not suggesting that I had anything to do with this."

"It's all about character." Eve studied Eliza's outraged face. "Sir Wilfred, protecting his client, risking his health, only to learn in the end he's freed a murderer. Leonard Vole, pretending to defend his beloved wife, helping her to escape a crumbling Germany years before, only to use her again and again to protect himself. And Christine." Eve shifted her gaze to Areena. "Risking her reputation, sacrificing her freedom to cover for him. Out of love that was thrown back in her face in the crudest and most careless of ways when she had served her purpose."

"We know the play," Carly said with a dainty yawn. "I suppose you'll say that while only the understudy, Michael was ranged with Richard, that is, Vole."

"That's right. And with Draco out of the way, he becomes Vole. What better way to right an old wrong, to avenge his mother's honor?"

"Just a minute. That's enough. I've had enough of this. I don't have to take that sort of thing from you." Michael's fists bunched at his sides as he took one threatening step toward Eve.

"Michael." Roarke's voice was quiet. He shifted so that he blocked Michael's reckless advance, and the actor came face-to-face with iced violence. "I could hurt you in ways you can't possibly imagine."

"Roarke," Eve would have cursed him for the interference, but it would have changed the mood.

"Step back, Michael," Carly advised, and only the grip of her hand on the chair indicated her concern. "You'll only embarrass yourself. You're running through our happy troupe rather quickly, Lieutenant."