The Burial Hour (Lincoln Rhyme 13) - Page 146

Even nonexistent ones, Rhyme reflected.

The green eyes widened momentarily. A potent color. Shamrock green. Rhyme suspected contact lenses. She sputtered: "They were joking, Dev and Frieda. That is all. Your witness is mistaken. It was a party of university students in Naples. A beautiful autumn night. Everybody was having fun."

"Joking."

"Si."

"Do you know if Dev has ever bought Comfort-Sure condoms?"

She blinked. "How dare you ask me a personal question like that?"

Spiro's tone was persistent. "Please respond."

After a hesitation she said, "I do not know what he buys."

"You are his girlfriend and this you don't know?"

"No. I don't pay any attention to such things."

"If I were to look in your medicine cabinet would I find Comfort-Sure condoms?"

"I resent that question and I resent your attitude."

Spiro gave a Gallic sneer, his lower jaw extended. "It is of no matter. After you left to come here, an officer went through your apartment. She found no Comfort-Sure."

"What? How can you do that?"

"Your apartment is a crime scene, Signorina. That is how. Now, as I was saying: None were found. However, credit card records show that your boyfriend did buy a box of Comfort-Sure three days ago. A box of twenty-four condoms. And yet there were none in the house. Where did they go? Who threw them out? For disposing of them is--let us be frank--the only way two dozen condoms might disappear within three days. Some youths have voracious appetites in that regard. But, honestly, two dozen?"

"Are you accusing my boyfriend of the rape? He would never do such a thing."

"No, I am accusing you of the sexual assault of Frieda Schorel."

"Me? You are mad!"

"Ah, Signorina Garelli. Let us explain what we have found."

He glanced at Rhyme, who wheeled to face her. He said evenly, "The lip and neck of the wine bottle on the smoking deck contained traces of condom lubricant, which profiled to be Comfort-Sure brand. It could be associated with--forgive me. I am parsing too fine here. It matched the lubricant on Frieda's thigh and within her vagina.

"In my associate's search of the scene at your apartment, she found laundry detergent and Indian food spices--you, the source of both--at the smoking station and at the scene of the assault." Rhyme's lips tightened with displeasure. "Well, of course you were at the smoking station, because it's your apartment and you hosted the party. But at the scene of the assault itself? How did that happen? I should have

thought of it earlier--it was my mistake to miss it. You and the victim both reported that she was climbing back onto your roof over the wall that separated the two buildings when you heard her cries for help and ran to her aid. That was many yards from the attack site. So how did curry and laundry detergent trace get to the place where she was actually assaulted?"

"You're mad too!"

Spiro took up the narrative: "We believe your boyfriend was flirting with Frieda at the party--and that they had been seeing each other off and on from the start of school--after you all met on the first day of class. You slipped the drug into Frieda's wine. You followed her and Garry upstairs, hoping she would pass out and Garry would rape her while she was unconscious. That would be humiliating enough for her, you believed. But he didn't; he went downstairs, leaving her alone. And you took up the matter yourself. You got one of your boyfriend's condoms and, when the deck was empty, dragged the unconscious Frieda over the wall to the neighboring roof and violated her with the bottle. Then you hid the condom, to be disposed of later, with the others, the next day, and went about your duties as hostess."

Rhyme knew that Natalia was the person who placed the anonymous call claiming to have seen Garry spiking the wine, and she herself would have broken into his apartment to plant the date-rape drug on his clothing; the footprints Ercole and Thom found could easily be a woman's size.

"Lies!" Natalia raged, eyes flashing with pure hatred.

Spiro now continued, "Our inquiries as to guests at the party focused on men. We will be interviewing witnesses about your whereabouts, at the time of the rape. We have been comparing DNA with that of the men at the party. And Frieda's other boyfriends. We will now get a warrant to compel a test of yours."

She scoffed. "This is ridiculous." Her indignation was profound. "I cannot be treated like this."

Rhyme's impression was that she truly believed normal rules did not apply...because she was so beautiful.

Natalia rose. "I will not put up with this any longer. I am leaving."

Tags: Jeffery Deaver Lincoln Rhyme Mystery
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