Vendetta in Death (In Death 49) - Page 74

Eve opened the right side of the double doors.

The wall of glass showed the world of New York washed in the light drizzle of early spring rain.

The room itself, wide and deep, held a sitting area, a massive wall screen, a solid desk, high-backed visitors’ chairs.

The two men in the room sat at their ease. Commander Whitney filled a visitor’s chair with his wide shoulders. Gray threaded liberally through his dark hair, and the lines of command scored his face with a kind of stoic dignity.

Tibble, long and lean, took the desk with the drenched city at his back. He wore his hair close to the skull of a face as long and lean as his body. His eyes skimmed from Whitney to Eve to Peabody, and showed nothing.

She’d heard he was hell at the poker table.

“Lieutenant, Detective, have a seat.”

Though she preferred giving reports, or receiving a dressing-down, while on her feet, Eve followed orders.

“As you should be aware,” Tibble began, “I rarely summon my officers to The Tower over a complaint. However, since this complainant has opted to reach out to me, personally, as well as the mayor, Commander Whitney and I agreed we should have a conversation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You don’t ask about the complaint or the complainant.”

“No, sir. The complainant would be Geena McEnroy, and her complaint would involve our investigation into her husband’s murder. Or, more specifically, into the motive for his murder.”

“Which is?”

“Nigel McEnroy’s confirmed sexual harassment of employees and clients—and more. His use of illegals to drug the women he targeted. His rape of multiple women, which he recorded and secreted said recordings in his offices here in New York and in London. Recordings I’ve viewed.”

Sober, direct, Tibble showed nothing in expression. “These are very serious allegations made against an individual who can’t dispute them or defend himself.”

“Yes, sir, they are. They are also fact. We have sworn statements from a number of women who were drugged, coerced, raped, and threatened. We have video and audio evidence, as McEnroy recorded his assaults. We have the illegals he used, the notebooks in which he listed his targets, corroborating witnesses from the venues in which he trolled those targets.”

Eyes unreadable, Tibble merely nodded. “I see. Is there a reason why you didn’t speak to Ms. McEnroy about this preponderance of evidence?”

“But—” Peabody broke off, cleared her throat. “Excuse me, sir.”

“You have something to add, Detective?”

“Sir, I read the lieutenant’s report, and know she did, in fact, speak to Ms. McEnroy about the evidence we’d gathered at that time. Basically, Chief Tibble, Ms. McEnroy didn’t want to hear it or believe it. She was understandably in a very upset state of mind.”

“One might be when one’s spouse is tortured and murdered and left on one’s doorstep.”

“Yes, sir.”

With the faintest of nods, Tibble looked back at Eve. “Ms. McEnroy states that you and the civilian consultant you took with you were both accusatory and aggressive toward her. Ah …” He swiveled his comp screen, tapped it. “Badgering and belittling her,” he read, “while smearing her husband’s good name in order to blame him for his own murder.”

He tapped the screen again, folded his hands. “She has threatened to bring suit against both of you and the department, unless you are both dismissed. She intends to appeal to the governor if you’re not fired by the end of the day.”

“Respectfully, Chief Tibble,” Eve said, “she can appeal to the deity of her choice, it won’t change the facts. Her husband was a sexual predator, the fact of which she may or may not have been aware. Rather than badgering or belittling, Roarke—the civilian consultant—attempted to sympathize and comfort.”

Tibble raised a brow. “I take it you did not attempt to sympathize and comfort.”

“He’s better at it, sir. In order to investigate this matter, it was imperative to interview the spouse of the victim, to ascertain whether or not she was in any way involved or complicit in his death. If you don’t look at the spouse—”

“You’re an idiot,” Tibble finished. “Do you believe the spouse in this case was involved or complicit?”

“I don’t. I believe she turned a blind eye to his actions because she didn’t want to believe him capable, didn’t want to accept he continued to cheat on her. And now, faced with the raw truth, she lashes out.”

“Considering the facts regarding the victim’s actions, behavior, crimes you’ve uncovered, do you feel capable of continuing to investigate his murder, without prejudice?”

Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery
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