Insidious (FBI Thriller 20)

“But listen, Savich, I’m not making it up. Marsia wasn’t at all upset when I told her about Delsey. She was understanding, agreeable, sweet, like always.”

And did you come back after your house emergency and sleep with her, Rob? Aloud, Delsey said, “Yeah, a nice new friend, that’s me.”

“Well, you are, plus you’re a whole lot more than that, and you know it.” He saw Captain Ramirez rolling his eyes at him and said quickly, “Savich, you can’t believe Marsia would do something like this. She’s a sculptor, an artist, for heaven’s sake. As I told you, she wasn’t jealous or upset. No, she wouldn’t do anything like this, it’s absurd. I know her.”

Savich said, “How serious do you think Ms. Gay is about you, Rob? Does she expect a marriage proposal?”

Rob froze like a deer in the headlights. “A marriage proposal? Neither of us have ever said a word about marriage, never. We’ve been really good friends, well, maybe there was more, but that’s all changed.” He looked at Delsey dead-on. “Everything changed when I met Delsey.”

Sherlock said matter-of-factly, “Rob, I know you believe what you said to Ms. Gay didn’t give her a big clue that your feelings for her had shifted to another woman. However, the fact that she remained calm and sweet to you doesn’t mean she wasn’t threatened or furious or jealous. We’ll confirm where Ms. Gay was this afternoon. Of course, even if she spent the day snug in her studio, she’s smart enough to have hired someone. Maybe we’ll clear this up quickly with the camera footage. Now, if you think of anything else, please call Dillon or me. Ben, Captain Ramirez, thank you for taking care of Ms. Freestone. We’ll be in touch.”

Rob Rasmussen took a step toward Delsey, only to have Griffin get in his face. “No, Mr. Rasmussen. Not now. Thank you for saving her, but I’m taking her home.”

Delsey stood beside her brother, her hand on his arm. “I told you, Rob, I don’t want to speak to you ever again and I meant it. From now on I’m avoiding men altogether. No more making bad decisions for me. Yes, Griffin, let’s go home. Thank you, Detective Raven, Captain Ramirez.”

They left Rob Rasmussen standing in the hall outside Captain Ramirez’s office, staring after Delsey.

48

* * *

CAU INTERVIEW ROOM

WASHINGTON, D.C.

THURSDAY EVENING

Savich and Sherlock sat across from Alexander in the same interview room they’d been in Tuesday, only two days before, but it seemed a lifetime ago. Alexander sat down, shot his cuffs, and said, “I don’t wish to begin until my lawyer arrives.” He looked down at his watch. “He said he was on his way. It appears he’d been waiting for Grandmother’s call.”

They waited in silence until R. D. Gardener, a formidable criminal attorney, strode into the room five minutes later. He stopped short, recognizing Savich. “Agent Savich, it’s been a while. May I ask why you have brought my client to the Hoover Building tonight? It couldn’t wait until tomorrow, this questioning he told me you demanded to conduct? You threatened to arrest him?”

“Hello, Mr. Gardener, let me introduce you to Agent Sherlock. I don’t believe you two have met.”

Gardener nodded at her, then his eyes widened. “Like most of America, I know your wife. The heroine of JFK. A pleasure, Agent Sherlock. Now, Agent Savich, you will tell me what evidence you have to support bringing my client in at this ungodly hour on a Thursday night.”

“Please sit down, Mr. Gardener, and I’ll lay it out for you and Alexander. On Monday, Venus gave us permission to search the house, after the attempt on her life. It required several days for the forensics team to process all they took from the mansion. They found nothing suspicious, except for traces of arsenic in your medicine cabinet, Alexander.” Savich added to Gardener, “As you may know, Mrs. Rasmussen was being systematically poisoned with arsenic. Why would you have traces of arsenic in your medicine cabinet, Alexander?”

Before Alexander could open his mouth, Gardener said, “You’re telling me you brought Mr. Rasmussen down here because of some traces of a substance in his medicine cabinet? Are you that desperate, Agent Savich?”

Savich continued, “I would certainly like to hear Alexander’s explanation for the arsenic.”

Gardener said, “You searched Mr. Rasmussen’s suite of rooms without his permission? Without a warrant?”

“As I said, Mrs. Rasmussen gave us permission and it is her house.”

“But his rooms are his alone. Your evidence will be inadmissible in court, Agent.”

Savich said, “I’m sure you will argue that point very well if we come to that, Mr. Gardener. Alexander, do you have an explanation?”

“No, I do not. Obviously anyone in the house could have put it there. Do you honestly believe I’m so stupid as to leave arsenic in my bathroom, Savich?”

“That remains to be seen, Alexander, but it’s only one of the reasons you are here. We found calls to a burner phone sold to Mr. Willig made from your cell phone, calls made on Sunday, one day before Willig tried to murder your grandmother on Monday afternoon. You said you didn’t know Vincent Willig. If that is true, then why did you call him?”

Alexander rose out of his chair, leaned close to Savich. “I don’t know the man, I told you that. I did not call him.”

“Doesn’t this all look highly suspicious to you, Agent Savich? As my client has said, how stupid would he have to be to not only leave traces of arsenic in his medicine cabinet but also to make calls that could be traced to the man he was hiring to kill his grandmother? I understand the man was a convicted felon who was murdered last night while in your custody?” He shook his head. “Unfortunate, and very prejudicial to any case you might wish to make.”

Alexander gave a sharp ugly laugh. “Excellent police work. Do you have anything else to ask me?”

Before Savich could answer, Mr. Gardener said, “Look, Agent Savich, the phone calls and the traces of arsenic—hardly enough to get an indictment, I’m sure you’ll agree. Anyone could have planted the arsenic, and I’m sure Mr. Rasmussen doesn’t keep his cell phone on his person all the time. Again, anyone could have tampered with his cell phone.”

“Alexander,” Sherlock said, “where were you early Wednesday morning?”