Witness in Death (In Death #10)(63)

He picked up his water again, drank deeply. "It ruined some of us. I would say it ruined Richard. He reveled in the fame, in the excesses. It never affected his work, that was his genius, but offstage, he indulged in every possible vice. There was a cruelty to him, particularly toward women. He crushed more than one on his way. He liked to brag about it, to make bets about which woman he'd have next. I found it... unpleasant."

He cleared his throat, shoved his cup away. "There was a woman, a girl, really. We were seeing each other. It wasn't serious, but we enjoyed each other's company. Then Richard began the hunt. He stalked her, lured her, and in the end, ruined her. When he cast her off, it broke her. I went to her apartment. I don't know what instinct sent me there. When I found her, she... she was on the point of taking her own life. She had already slashed her wrists. I got her to a health center. I..."

He trailed off, hesitated, then continued with obvious difficulty. "They saved her, but something inside me snapped when I looked at her lying there, so pale, so used. I got drunk, then I went after Richard."

Stiles ran his hands over his face. "I might have killed him that night. I admit it. But people from the neighboring apartments stopped me. Afterward, I realized what a useless gesture it had been. It changed nothing and cost me a great deal. Instead of damaging Richard, I could have destroyed my own career, my own life. I put myself at his mercy, you see. He agreed to the settlements and the seals to protect his own image. I had reason to be grateful he was just that self-interested. It took me three years to pay off the suit, with merciless interest. Then I put it behind me."

"Seems to me you had plenty of reason to hate the son of a bitch," Feeney put in.

"Perhaps." Steadier now that the story was told, Stiles nodded. "But hate takes enormous amounts of time and energy. I prefer employing mine in more positive channels. I have everything I want; I enjoy my life. I would never risk it again on the likes of Richard Draco."

"Not such a risk when you put the knife in the hands of a woman."

Stiles's head snapped up. His eyes burned. "I don't use women. I've had nearly twenty-five years to learn a lesson, Lieutenant. Richard Draco stopped mattering to me a very long time ago."

"What happened to the woman?"

"I don't know." He heaved a huge sigh, full of regret. "She ceased to be part of my life. I believe the fact that I knew what had happened made it difficult for her to be around me, to maintain our friendship."

"Seems to me she'd have been grateful."

"She was, Lieutenant. But like me, she had to put the incident, all of it, behind her. I went to London very shortly after the incident, worked there, and then in California, in Canada. We didn't keep in touch, and I never heard of her again."

Convenient, Eve thought. Maybe just a little too convenient. "What was her name?"

"Is that necessary?"

"It's a sad story you tell, Mr. Stiles. An effective one. But there's no one here to back it up. What was her name?"

"Anja Carvell." He looked back into the past, then down at his hands. "Her name was Anja. I've told you all I can."

"One more thing. Where were you yesterday morning between the hours of ten and eleven?"

"Yesterday? It's the hour I take my daily exercise. A brisk walk in the park."

"Can anyone verify that?"

"I was alone." His voice was cold again. The temper was coming back, but it was more controlled. "Am I to be detained any longer? I have a memorial service to attend."

"You're advised not to leave the city." Eve studied his face. There was something off, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "Any attempt to do so will result in an immediate warrant for your detention."

She rose, signaled toward Observation and Trueheart.

"An officer will take you back to your apartment. Oh, Mr. Stiles, one last thing. Did you ever have occasion to converse with Linus Quim?"

"Quim?" Stiles got to his feet, brushed the back of his fingertips down his lapel. "No. One didn't converse with Quim. He had a disdain for people in my profession. An odd little man. I wouldn't be surprised if you discovered he'd switched the knives. He really couldn't stand actors."

"Peabody, start tracking down Anja Carvell."

"I don't like the way it plays," Feeney commented. "Too slick."

"Yeah, I was waiting for the lights to come up and the music to start. Still, it could've gone down pretty much like he said."

"Even if it did, it doesn't change anything. He had a hard-on for Draco, a big, fat one. He strikes me as the type who'd chew on it for at least two decades."

"I like him for a long-term planner," Eve agreed. "Somebody who keeps slights and annoyances tucked in little boxes. And as someone who wouldn't want to get his hands dirty, not a second time."

But something was out of step. Details left out, or details added in. "We'll see how the Carvell connection shakes out," she decided. "He was leaving holes, picking what he wanted to tell us, how he wanted it told. Ad-libbing," she mused. "Isn't that what they call it? He did a good job of it."

"I think he was in love with Anja." Peabody had her palm unit out but hadn't yet started the scan. "It makes a difference if he was."