Forgotten in Death(74)

“But he knew too much. He had to go.”

Tovinski spread his hands, appealed directly to Peabody. “A man has loyalty to his family. Didn’t my uncle bring me to this country, to this city, give me a home, give me food, give me education and work? Loyalty and gratitude in my heart.”

Sympathetic tears shined in Peabody’s eyes as Tovinski laid a hand on his heart.

“He is a father to me. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“This Delgato, I say again, I barely know him. And he killed himself, which is a sin. I’m sorry for him. But he is the cheat, the thief. I think the guilt drove him to take his life.”

“If you barely knew him,” Peabody asked, timidly, “why do you think he used your name? Just yours?”

“He would know I’m important. No one would question my signature.”

“That makes sense. Plus, you never went to his apartment.”

“No, I was never there. I have pity in my heart for a man so desperate and lost he would take his own life.”

“Mr. Tovinski,” Eve continued. “Can you explain why you withdrew ten thousand yesterday morning, in cash, from the fraudulent account you have in New York under the name of New York Opportunities, the shell company you created for same?”

“A man needs cash.”

“That’s a lot of cash. Did you make a specific purchase?”

“I have expenses.” He executed the shrug and dismissive hand wave of an important man. “I tip generously. My wife and my children, they have expenses.”

“So this wasn’t for a specific purchase, such as a syringe full of Dexachlorine?”

Nothing showed in his eyes, but a muscle twitched in his jaw. “I don’t know what this is. A medication? I take no medication.”

“It’s the paralytic found in Delgato’s system—as we found him seconds before he died and the chief medical examiner of New York performed an autopsy, including a tox screen, immediately and expediently.”

Eve pressed a finger to her throat. “The neck bruising didn’t quite hide the pressure mark. Homicide,” she told Ilyin. “Not suicide. Your boy here broke into the apartment. He installed a hook in the ceiling. You should’ve left the tool behind, Alexei. Delgato didn’t have one in the apartment that could have drilled that hole, and the paint and drywall flaked. Fresh flakes on the floor.”

“Lies, lies. Desperate lies now.”

“And all yours.” Eve rose at the knock on the door. She took the suit from Officer Shelby. “Thank you, Officer. Freshly back from the lab,” she said as she held the suit up in its sealed bag.

“Is this your suit, Tovinski?”

“How do I know? I have many suits.”

“Well, it was taken from your closet, in your home, hung in the section you use for garments to be dry-cleaned. Plus, it’s custom—bet it fits like a glove. And you have your name monogrammed inside the jacket.”

She broke the seal, removed it, opened the jacket to show the name embroidered on the black silk lining. “Again, is this your suit?”

“Yes, so what?”

Eve took a small evidence vial out of her files. “See this?” She showed the tiny fabric traces. “This came off the suit—right here.” Now she showed the portion on the inside upper leg marked by the lab. “The slight snag, the tiny bits of fabric. Too bad. It’s terrific material. You snagged it when, after you jimmied the window on Delgato’s flop, you climbed in to lie in wait.”

“These are lies.”

“This is science. You broke in, installed the hook, waited for him. And when he got there, you jabbed the paralytic into him so he couldn’t fight back. He’d be aware and, oh, he’d feel, but he couldn’t fight back when you put the noose around his neck. When you stood on the chair and pulled him up.

“You didn’t wait for him to die. Nobody cared about him, that’s what you figured. You climbed back out the window, but only seconds, I’m thinking, before his landlord started pounding on his door. Maybe a minute or two before I walked to his door, hoping to question him.”

“It’s threads, threads in a bottle.” Though he let out a short, hard laugh, a single line of sweat ran down his left temple. “It proves nothing! The plumber, he did the stealing. Why would I kill him for what I didn’t do?”

“You did it—and there’s ample evidence, which is why your lawyer’s quiet. But you didn’t kill him over that. Hell, he was useful there.”

Rising, Eve circled around the table, leaned in over Tovinski’s shoulder.

“You killed him because you couldn’t trust him to keep quiet. Not after Alva Quirk saw the two of you up there, taking materials from the site. Not after she told you to stop, started writing in her book. Not after you went into the storage shed, got a crowbar, and slammed it into her head. Not after you killed her, and, with Delgato’s help, because he was terrified, wrapped her in plastic and tossed her in the dumpster.”

She circled around again and looked back at the lawyer, whose face showed nothing.

“He killed two people to cover up the fact he’s a thief, one who’ll steal from his own family. And we’ve got him cold.”

Tovinski must have sensed it, in the silence, in the cold look in Ilyin’s eyes.