“I’ve got to ask you for one more. I need you to come down, make an official statement regarding your conversation with the victim on Friday at your office.”
Something sizzled in his eyes. “Am I on your short list, Lieutenant?”
“Don’t pull that. Don’t.” She drew a breath in, slowly. Released it, slowly. “Another investigator catches this, we’re both on the short list until we clear it up. We both had motive to cause her pain, and someone caused her plenty. We’re out regarding the murder. Can’t kill someone in Midtown when you’re partying with the chief of police in another part of town. Still, we’ve both got connections, and the wherewithal to hire somebody to do it.”
“And we’re both smart enough to have hired someone who wouldn’t be quite so obvious and sloppy.”
“Maybe, but sometimes obvious and sloppy is purposeful. Added to it, somebody busted up her face earlier. We need to cover that, too.”
“So, you don’t think I murdered her, but as for beating her up—”
“Stop it.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “Hitting me with this attitude isn’t helping.”
“Which attitude would you prefer I hit you with? I have several available.”
“Goddamn it, Roarke.”
“All right, all right.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “It just pisses me off, having my wife interview me over assault.”
“Well, cheer up, I won’t be. Peabody’ll handle it.”
“Won’t that be delightful?” He took her arms, turned her so they were toe-to-toe and eye-to-eye. “I want you to tell me—I want you to look at me and tell me, right now, if you believe I put hands on her.”
“No.” There was no hesitation. “It’s not your style, and if you’d lost it enough to jump out of character, you’d have told me already. The fact is, it’s my style, and I’ll be putting her visit to me in my report.”
He swore. “Bloody bitch is as much trouble dead as she was alive. Don’t give me that look. I won’t be lighting a candle for her. You would, in your way. Because for better or worse, she’s yours now, and you’ll stand for her because you can’t do otherwise.”
He continued to hold her arms, and now ran his hands lightly up and down. “I’ll come with you now, and have it done.”
“Crappy way to spend a Sunday.”
“Wouldn’t be the first,” he said and opened the car door.
* * *
At Central, Peabody set up in one of the interview rooms. Her movements were a little jerky, and her eyes stayed down.
“Relax,” Roarke advised. “I believe it’s traditional for the subject to be nervous rather than the investigator.”
“It’s awkward. It’s just a formality.” Peabody looked up. “It sucks. It’s a sucky formality.”
“Hopefully, it’ll be quick and painless for both of us.”
“You ready?”
“Go ahead.”
She had to clear her throat, but read the data into record. “Sir, we understand you’re here voluntarily, and we appreciate your cooperation with this investigation.”
“Whatever I can do…” He shifted his gaze to the long mirror, to indicate he knew very well Eve was observing from the other side. “For the department.”
“You were acquainted with Trudy Lombard.”
“Not really. I had the occasion to meet her once, when she requested a meeting with me, at my office, this past Friday.”
“Why did you agree to meet her?”
“Curiosity. I was aware that my wife was briefly in her charge many years ago.”