Imitation in Death (In Death 17) - Page 15

“It means nothing to me. Nothing.” The color that had come into his face during his rambling alibi began to diminish. He shrugged, carelessly now. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been to Chinatown.”

“You bought stationery in London several months ago. Fifty sheets and envelopes, plain, cream-colored, unrecycled stock.”

“Did I? It’s certainly possible. I buy quite a lot of things. For myself, for Pepper, as gifts. What in the world does stationery have to do with anything?”

“It’s very expensive, very distinctive stock. It would be helpful if you could produce it.”

“Paper, bought months ago, in London?” He made his ha-ha sound again, but this time it carried annoyance. “For all I know it’s still in London. I think I should call my lawyer.”

“That’s your choice. You can ask your representative to meet us downtown, at Central, to discuss your priors. Assaults and sex crimes.”

His face turned nearly the same shade as his hair. “Those incidents are in my past. If you must know the sexual assault charge was completely unwarranted. An argument with a woman I’d been dating that escalated, and her revenge when I broke things off with her. I didn’t fight the charge as I felt it would only generate more ugly publicity and drag things out.”

“Indecent exposure.”

“A misunderstanding. I’d had a bit too much to drink after a party and, impaired, was relieving my bladder when a group of young women happened to pass. It was foolish and ill-advised, but hardly criminal.”

“And the battery?”

“A shoving match with my ex-wife. Who started the incident, by the way. Just an unfortunate display of temper, which she used to skin me in the divorce. I don’t appreciate having all this thrown in my face, or being accused of murder. I was at home and in bed last night. All night. And that’s all I have to say without my lawyer.”

“Funny,” Eve commented as she headed uptown. “A guy can be arrested and charged three times, but none of it was his fault. All misunderstandings.”

“Yeah, the law’s a bitch.”

“What we’ve got here, Peabody, is a weasely little man who likes to put on a big show. Look at me. I’m important, I’m powerful. I’m somebody. And he has a history of knocking women around, showing off his dick and losing his temper. Surrounds himself with phallic symbols and has a big-breasted blonde playing guardian of the gates.”

“I didn’t like him. But it’s a pretty big leap from shaking his wang to slicing up an LC.”

“Steps and stages,” Eve declared. “Let’s see if Pepper’s home, and how she slept last night.”

The brownstone was lovely, old and elegant. And meant, Eve calculated as she walked toward the door, private security. The sort the owner could turn on and off at whim.

She rang the bell, considered the entrance, the flow of flowers in pots running up the short set of steps, the proximity of neighboring houses.

When the door opened, she had an immediate flash, and not very pleasant, of Roarke’s majordomo, and the bane of her existence, Summerset.

The butler was dressed in stark black, as was Summerset’s habit. He was long and thin with pewter hair atop a narrow face.

She actually felt her gorge rise.

“May I help you?”

“Lieutenant Dallas, Officer Peabody.” Prepared to plow through him if necessary, she flipped out her badge. “I need to speak with Ms. Franklin.”

“Ms. Franklin is engaged in her yoga/meditation hour. May I be of some assistance?”

“You can assist me by getting out of the way, telling Ms. Franklin she’s got a cop at the door who wants to question her regarding an official investigation.”

“Of course,” he said so genially, she actually blinked. “Please come in. If you’d make yourself comfortable in the living area, I’ll inform Ms. Franklin. Would you care for any refreshment while you wait?”

“No.” She eyed him suspiciously. “Thanks.”

“I’ll just be a moment.” After gesturing them into a large, sunny room with long white sofas, he turned toward a staircase.

“Maybe we can trade Summerset for him.”

“Hey, Dallas, check it out.”

Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery
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