“How well did you know the victims?”
“I . . . God. I don’t know. To talk to. Not like Pach, but we hung out a couple times. My uncle manages a Slice, and I helped Jen, then Coby, get jobs there. I mean, I asked my uncle if he could give them a try. He’s good about giving people a chance.”
“Did you ever go to the place they were staying?”
“Once. The restaurant’s close to where I live, so I go in a lot. I walked back with Jen and Coby one night. My uncle gave them some food. And we hung out.” He smiled a little. “It was nice.”
“Did they own ’links?”
He blinked in puzzlement. “Sure. Everybody has at least one ’link.”
“Do you know anyone who’d want to hurt them?”
“I don’t see why anyone would. They were harmless. They didn’t have anything, didn’t hurt anybody. Jen was studying so she could do secretarial work. She wanted to work in an office. That’s not much to ask.”
No, Eve thought. It wasn’t much to ask.
When Justin came back in, he looked drained. “If you could give Arianna a few minutes, she’ll meet you in the Meditation Garden.”
“All right.”
“Is there anything more we can do?”
“Not at this time.”
“Will you keep me—us—informed?”
“I can do that. If anything occurs to you, anything at all, let me know.” She signaled Peabody, who put her hand on Pachai’s shoulder before rising.
“Arianna Whitwood, down in the gardens,” Eve told her. “Did you get anything?”
“He was in love with Darnell,” Peabody said as they headed down again. “He didn’t hesitate to tell me, or that he thought maybe she felt something back. No alibi, but he gives off this gentle, kind of sweet vibe. I can’t see him slaughtering three people.”
“On the other hand, he and everyone in that lab knew all three vics, and where they were squatting. At least two of them—and I’d add Rosenthall as a third—had been there, knew the setup. That weighs. There are going to be others who knew them and the setup from Get Straight, and Slice. This wasn’t random.”
“No. Random doesn’t fit.”
“Because?”
“Oh boy, a quiz. Deliberate break-in through the back, and the other killers—because I can’t see it being one guy—got into the front, attacked them in a frenzied but systematic manner. Wrecked the place, but as far as we know took nothing but their ’links—and at least one of them had the protective gear, so no blood on his—or their—clothes. It’s most probable they brought the weapons—a knife, scalpel, and some sort of bludgeoning tool—with them. Prepared, premeditated, and target specific.
“Did I pass?”
“Not bad.” They passed through an atrium on the main level and into the burgeoning gardens. “Not bad at all,” Eve said with a look around.
“Totally mag. Peaceful. Kind of Zen. Look, butterflies.” A smile broke over Peabody’s face. “Butterflies just make you happy.”
“They’ve got that buggy body and those creepy little antennas. People don’t think about that because they get distracted by the wings. I always wonder if they have teeth. They must have tiny, sharp little teeth.”
“You’re not spoiling my happy.”
Eve took the path marked Meditation Garden, angled through blossoms and butterflies. She saw Arianna on one of the stone benches, the diamond on her left hand on fire in the streams of light. She wore a leaf-green suit with a foam of lace and high, razor-thin heels of the same color that showcased long legs. Her hair, a rich, nutty brown, was wound up in some complicated twist that left her exceptional face unframed. Everything about her said classic and class, and reminded Eve of Mira.
At their approach, Arianna turned her head. Her eyes, a color caught somewhere between green and brown, sparked with anger.
She rose.
“Lieutenant Dallas. I’d hoped to meet you, but not like this. Detective Peabody. Can we sit?” She did so, folded her hands again. “I wanted to talk to you here. I’d hoped to find some quiet here. But not yet.”