Golden in Death(71)

“Me, too.” Eve checked her wrist unit. “Why don’t you see how much longer Dr. Grange intends to keep the NYPSD waiting?”

“Please have a seat.” Back straight, Mulray walked out.

“I wonder how she walks around without wincing, given how stiff her neck is.”

Eve smiled. “Practice. Somebody, I’m betting, was in the military before she got into administration. And somebody wasn’t telling us the truth, was she, Peabody?”

“No, sir. She knew Whitt’s name. You know what else?”

“Do I want to?”

“I think you’d find it interesting that the fabric on that couch, those chairs? That’s going to go for about six hundred a yard.”

Eve gave them another look. “That’s a lot, I assume, not being updated on fabric prices.”

“Figuring about fourteen yards—maybe fifteen—for the sofa, another twelve to fourteen for the chairs … Add some more yardage for the piping. You can do the math.”

“No,” Eve said, “I really can’t.”

“Well, you’re going to hit over twenty-couple thousand, and that’s before labor, before the fancy custom pillows, before the fricking sofa and chair bases you’re covering. Before, because look around, the fancy interior decorator fee. Just the sofa and chairs? I’m betting forty large.”

“For a sitting area in a headmaster’s office? Seems … excessive.”

“Oh yeah.” Warming to the theme, Peabody gestured with both hands. “Add that desk? That’s cherrywood, the real deal, and so are those shelves. Plus, it looks custom. That’s going to go for a good ten large right there.”

“You can be handy, Peabody.”

“I know my wood and fabric. You put it all together, with the tables, the lamps, those custom valances over the windows—and yeah, add the custom cherry frames on all the photos…” She poked her head in the bath. “Jesus, the Egyptian cotton towels and all that? You’re cruising toward a couple hundred grand, Dallas.”

“That’s some decorating budget. You know what else, Peabody?”

“I don’t know if I can take any more. I have wood and fabric envy.”

“There’s not a single book, not in here, in the assistant’s area, not in the assistants to the assistant’s area. Not a single file or disc on the desk, the shelves. This office is all about her.”

“Yeah, it is. And even though I admire her taste, I don’t like her already.”

“Just channel that into looking intimidated. To start, anyway.”

Eve turned as the door opened. She’d studied Grange’s photo a number of times already, but she had to admit the woman was impressive. She wore her deep brown hair in short, fashionable waves, masterfully highlighted. Though she stood on the soft side of seventy, her skin glowed smooth, telling Eve she’d had masterful work there, too.

With the heels, she hit a statuesque five-eleven, with a curvy body shown to perfection in a tailored suit of blazing red.

Her eyes, a green as pale as the walls, studied Eve as coolly as she was studied.

“Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody, I’m Dr. Grange. I’m sorry to keep you waiting. Teesha should have offered you coffee. Let me order some.”

“We’re fine. Since we’re running behind schedule, we’d like to get started.”

“Of course. Please have a seat.”

She took the sofa, waited while Eve and Peabody took the chairs. Peabody cleared her throat.

“Dr. Grange, I’d just like to say your office is really lovely.”

Grange offered Peabody a cool smile, and a flick of a glance at the pink boots. “Thank you. I find attractive and ordered surroundings conducive to focus and concentration. The responsibilities of headmaster at a school of Lester Hensen’s import and reputation are many.”

She crossed long legs.

“But I believe you’re here to speak to me about my tenure at Theresa A. Gold Academy, in New York. I was very sorry to hear about the death of Dr. Rufty’s partner.”

“Husband,” Eve corrected.

“Yes, of course. I believe I met Dr. Abner very briefly during the transition period. But given so much time has passed, I don’t remember him well.”

“Dr. Rufty replaced you at Gold.”

Grange arched her eyebrows at the term replaced. “Dr. Rufty accepted the position of headmaster after I resigned.”

“Right. And why did you resign?”

“I was offered the position as headmaster here. While Gold Academy is a very fine school, the board of trustees made me an excellent offer and opportunity here. We are a prep school for grades nine through twelve rather than an academy for kindergarten through twelve. I wanted to focus my skills on those vital years before college.”

“So the move to East Washington didn’t have anything to do with your divorce?”

Her eyes went steely. “I don’t base my professional decisions on relationships. Reginald and I agreed our marriage had run its course, and parted without acrimony.”

“Really? I got the sense he had some acrimony left over from the pile of it when he learned you were having an extramarital affair.”

Now the jaw tightened. “My private business can’t be relevant to the murder of the partner—husband,” she corrected, “of the person who serves as headmaster of a school I left eight years ago.”