Witness in Death (In Death #10)(54)

Peabody crumpled her handkerchief and moped. "I've had too much respect, if you ask me. I know I'm not beautiful or anything."

"You look good."

"I'm not really sexy."

"Sure you are." At her wit's end, Eve came around the desk, patted Peabody's head.

"If you were a guy, or into same-sex relationships, would you want to have sex with me?"

"Absolutely. I'd jump you in a heartbeat."

"Really?" Brightening at the idea, Peabody wiped her eyes. "Well, McNab can't keep his hands off me."

"Oh man. Peabody, please."

"I don't want him to know. I don't want McNab to know that Charles and I haven't been hitting the sheets."

"He'll never hear it from me. I can guarantee it."

"Okay. Sorry, Dallas. After Charles told me, and I went back to work to take my mind off it, and found those sealed files... It kept me up most of the night. I mean, if he didn't say anything relevant, I couldn't figure out why you had two reports and a video disc sealed."

Eve blew out a breath. Interpersonal relationships were tough, she thought. And tricky. "One of the reports and the disc don't involve Charles." Damn it, Peabody was right about one thing, covering them up hampered the investigation. "They involve Nadine."

"Oh. I thought something was up there."

"Look, she had a thing with Draco years ago. She came to me about it. He used her, dumped her, in his usual pattern. When Roarke and I went through his penthouse, we found those personal discs. The one I sealed -- "

"Oh. He recorded sex with Nadine. Scum." Peabody sighed. "She's not a suspect, at least not one we're looking at, so you wanted to spare her the embarrassment. Dallas, I'm sorry. All around sorry."

"Okay, let's forget it. Go wash your face or something so McNab doesn't think I've been slapping you around."

"Right. Boy, I feel like an idiot."

"Good, that bucks me right up. Now, go pull yourself together so I can pry McNab out of whatever corner he's hiding in, and we can get to work."

"Yes, sir."

By the time they were assembled in her office, Feeney had arrived. He'd reviewed the video of the play himself, had enlarged, re-focused, enhanced, and worked his e-magic so that the team was able to confirm the time frame of the switch.

The two courtroom scenes were side by side on a split screen, with Feeney in front, showing the minute difference in the shape of the knife, its angle of placement from one to the other.

"Whoever did the switch copped a knife that so closely resembled the dummy nobody would have noticed it without picking it up and giving it a good looking over."

"The prop master?" McNab asked.

"He'd have no reason to do more than check to see that the knife was still on its mark. The courtroom set stayed -- what do you call it -- dressed throughout the performance. He'd have noticed if the knife was missing," Feeney added. "According to his statement, he checked the set immediately after the scene change and immediately before it changed again. He had no reason to check otherwise."

"That gives the perpetrator approximately five minutes." Eve tapped her fingers on her mug. "However, we narrow that if we follow the line that Quim saw something or someone suspicious, as it appears he did during the scene break. Under three minutes to get the dummy knife hidden and be back wherever he needed to be. Onstage or in the wings."

"Then the perp had to wait." Peabody narrowed her eyes. "Wait, and count on no one making the switch through the next courtroom scene, through the dialogue and action. Wait out the play until Christine Vole grabs it up and uses it. That's about thirty minutes. A long time to wait."

"Our killer's patient, systematic. I think he or she enjoyed the wait, watching Draco prance around, emoting, drawing applause, all the while knowing it was his last act. I think the killer reveled in it."

Eve set down her coffee, sat on the edge of her desk. "Roarke said something last night. Life imitates art."

Peabody scratched her nose. "I thought it was the opposite."

"Not this time. Why this play? Why this time? There were easier, less risky, more subtle ways to off Draco. I'm thinking the play itself meant something to the killer. The theme of love and betrayal, of false faces. Sacrifice and revenge. The characters of Leonard and Christine Vole have a history. Maybe Draco had a history with his killer. Something that goes back into the past that twisted their relationship."

Feeney nodded, munched on a handful of nuts. "A lot of the players and techs had worked with him before. Theater's like a little world, and the people in it bump into each other over and over."

"Not a professional connection. A personal one. Look, Vole comes off charming, handsome, even a little naive, until you find out he's a heartless, ruthless opportunist. From what we've uncovered, this mirrors Draco. So who did he betray? Whose life did he ruin?"

"From the interviews, he f**ked over everybody." McNab lifted his hands. "Nobody's pretending they loved the guy."

"So we go deeper. We go back. I want you to run the players. Look for the history. Something that pops out. Vole destroyed a marriage or relationship, ruined someone financially. Seduced someone's sister. Setback their career. You look for the data," she told McNab and Feeney. "Peabody and I will chip away at the players."