Celebrity in Death

by J. D. Robb

  “I bet. Where did you get the pills?”

  “I swear to God, I didn’t take any pills. I just had a couple glasses of wine.”

  “Where did you get the wine?”

  “Joel brought it over last night. He knew I was … upset. We only had one glass each. I’ve been drinking too much since … you know. I drink too much, I guess, when I’m upset.”

  “So Joel brought you the bottle of wine, but you didn’t finish it last night.”

  “Just one glass each. And it was fine. Just fine. I don’t know why it made me so sick tonight. I guess, maybe, I caught a bug or something.”

  “You nearly caught an OD. The wine was full of Somnipoton.”

  “Sleeping pills? No, I didn’t take any pills. I told the MTs. I didn’t take any medication.” Agitated, he tried to sit up straighter. “I have some of my own sleeping pills—Delorix—but I didn’t take any. I don’t think.”

  He rubbed a hand up and down his throat, closed his shadowed eyes. “I don’t think I did,” he repeated. “I don’t remember taking any. Things get mixed up when I drink too much.”

  “The sleeping pills were K.T. Harris’s prescription. The empty bottle was in with the other wine bottles.”

  His brow furrowed in a combination of puzzlement and pain. “That doesn’t make any sense. I didn’t take her pills … did I? Why is this happening?”

  “You talked to Joel tonight before you came back here. What did you talk about?”

  He looked away. “I was upset. I’ve been upset, and I can’t think straight when I’m upset. He said I should come back, have some of the wine he gave me, take a whirlpool. Relax.”

  “He said, specifically? For you to drink the wine he gave you?”

  “Yes. It’s a nice wine, and I promised him I’d have a couple of glasses. I’d have a glass of wine while I relaxed in the tub, but I just didn’t have the energy for the tub, so—”

  “If you had, you’d have drowned just like K.T.”

  “I don’t understand, not any of this. I guess I’m being punished.” He let out a shaky breath. “I told Roarke.”

  “What did you tell Roarke?”

  “That I killed K.T.”

  “Julian, are you confessing to the murder of K.T. Harris?”

  “I didn’t murder her. I didn’t, but …” He let out a breath again, but this time it was an exhalation of relief. “I killed her.”

  “How?”

  He stared at Eve with red-rimmed eyes dull against the gray cast of his skin. “I’m not sure.”

  “You’re not sure? How do you know you killed her?”

  “Because I knocked her down. I didn’t mean to, but she pushed me, and I pushed her. Not hard, but I shouldn’t have. I never put my hands on a woman in violence. Never. Never.”

  He had to stop, squeeze his eyes shut a moment while he calmed his breathing. “There’s no excuse. I know that. Drinking’s not an excuse, being upset isn’t an excuse. But she was screaming at me, and she shoved me, and without thinking, I pushed her back. She slipped, and she fell back and hit her head.”

  “Back up a little, okay? You went up to the roof with K.T. Harris on the night of her death?”

  “Yes. I should have told you, but Joel …”

  “Joel Steinburger told you not to tell the police. You told him what happened, and he advised you to lie to the police.”

  “He was just trying to help me. Protect me. It was an accident. I got drunk—after dinner. It was such an ugly thing she said. And she got me aside after. I told you about those two girls, from the club. I didn’t know they were underage. She said she was going public with all of it if I didn’t …”

  “What?”

  “She said to meet her up on the roof, and she’d tell me what I had to do. I shouldn’t have gone up. I wish I hadn’t, but I was goddamn sick of her threatening me. Everyone. So I did.”

  “Was the dome to the pool open or closed?”

  “What? Ah, closed. I remember that. I can remember that because she was smoking—a lot, and it was too warm under the dome. I thought about having a toke, to tell you the truth. But all I had to do was stand there and breathe.”

  “Why didn’t you open the dome, get some air?”

  “I … I didn’t think of it, but I don’t know how anyway. I was so pissed off. She said I had to get Marlo in my trailer. I was supposed to give her a drink, and it would have some Rabbit in it so she’d want to have sex with me. I said I wouldn’t. I’d never do that to Marlo—to anyone. But Marlo, she trusts me. We’re friends. Jesus, Jesus.”

  He passed a shaky hand over his face. “I’d never slip any woman Rabbit, but especially a friend. It just made me so mad when she said that’s what I had to do. How could she want anybody to do that?”

  “You told her no.”

  “I told her to go to hell. I think. It’s all mixed up, but I know we yelled at each other. I think I said some really hard things to her, and she slapped me, then she shoved me. I shoved her back, and she fell. The strap of her shoe, I think the strap of her shoe broke and she fell. There was blood, and I couldn’t wake her up. I got so scared. I was going to run down and get help, call an ambulance, or something.”

  “Is that what you did?”

  “I started to, then Joel said …” He rubbed at his face, hard this time, as if to scrub the memories to the surface. “It’s all mixed up. He said not to worry. It would be fine, but then he said she must’ve gotten up, or tried, and fell into the pool. And she drowned. He said it wasn’t my fault, but you’d say it was, because busting a celebrity for killing a celebrity made you a celebrity. And I’d go to prison, even though it was an accident. I’d lose everything and go to prison forever.”

  “Listen to me. Look at me.”

  He met her eyes, pressed his lips together. “Am I under arrest?”

  “I could arrest you right now, starting with obstruction of justice. K.T. didn’t get up and fall into the pool. She was dragged in while she was unconscious.”

  “I didn’t do that.” His breath began to hitch and tear. “No. I didn’t do that. I couldn’t have. I know I was mad, and I was drunk, but … I couldn’t have done that. I don’t remember. I was going to get help.”

  “You got Joel.”

  “I don’t know. Did I? No. That’s what’s so mixed up because I didn’t go get him. He was there, and he said he’d take care of it. Then you said she was dead. I didn’t drown her. I couldn’t have done that to her. I never hurt women. I shouldn’t have pushed her. I’d never have pushed her if I hadn’t been drinking, if she hadn’t said those things about Marlo. But I’d never have put her in the water. It was an accident.”

  “No, it was murder. But you didn’t kill her, Julian. Joel did.”

  “That’s crazy. Please, it had to be an accident.”

  “It was murder. And if Nadine hadn’t come, he’d have killed you tonight, setting you up to take the fall for him.”

  “Not Joel. You’re wrong.”

  “I’m right. Tell me, was he ever alone last night, out there? Did he ask you to get him something out of another part of the suite? After you both poured that one glass of wine.”

  “He wanted to see the pages for the scene we were doing today. I keep them in the bedroom. I always read the pages one more time, last thing.”

  “And that gave him the time to add the pills to the wine, plant the bottle, even put the bottle away so you wouldn’t be tempted to have more until he had a solid alibi.”

  “He made me promise not to drink any more last night. But … no.”

  But she saw it begin to sink in.

  “It all got tangled. What I thought happened, pieces I remembered, what he said happened. It didn’t fit right, but he said … He was just there, when I ran out of the dome, to the lounge. I told him what happened. He said … he’d take care of it. Not to tell anyone. Not to spoil the evening for the others. He killed her. He was going to kill me. Why? Why?”

  “It’s kind o
f his hobby.” She looked over as Nadine opened the door.

  “Can he have a break? Some food?”

  “Yeah. We’re done for now.”

  “Joel,” Julian said quietly, staring hard at his own hands. “Joel. He’s almost like a dad. He let me think I killed K.T. He let me think I did that. And it made me sick to think I had. Am I going to be arrested?”

  “No. But don’t lie to me again.” She walked over to Nadine. “First, contact the house doctor—or if you want to call in a favor, tag Louise. He should have a doctor look him over.”

  “I already tagged Louise.”

  “Okay. Second. He’s going to talk to you, and you’re going to get fodder for that book you’re thinking about. Keep it under wraps while I go nail this fucker closed. But you can leak—in, say, thirty minutes—that Joel Steinburger’s been arrested.”

  Eve walked out. “Peabody, with me. You, too,” she said to Roarke, “if you want to.”

  “Always.”

  “I bet Steinburger’s having brandy and dessert about now. Let’s go spoil his after-dinner liqueur.”

  Since Roarke owned the place, with all its raw brick, deep wood paneling, and dark red leather, Eve knew she didn’t have to badge her way in.

  She just wanted to. Wanted to cause the sort of scene that drew an audience and tipped tags to the media. She glanced at her wrist unit. Nadine had a five-minute head start.

  She’d earned it.

  “Sir.” Spotting Roarke, the maître d’ sprang to attention. “I’ll have a table ready in just a moment.”

  “Joel Steinburger.” Eve held up her badge.

  “Of course. Mr. Steinburger and Mr. Delacora are enjoying dessert. I’ll show you to their booth.”

  Eve had already spotted him—a rear corner, facing out. See and be seen, she thought. He swirled brandy, an important and satisfied look on his face as he spoke with his wiry, wild-maned companion.

  “I see him.” Ignoring the maître d’, she crossed the restaurant.

  Steinburger’s expression changed when he saw her approach. The furrowed brow, she thought, a mix of annoyance and concern. Then the polite resignation as he set down the brandy, started to rise.

  “Lieutenant. Nick, this is the genuine article. Lieutenant Eve Dallas, Nicholas Delacora.”

  “A pleasure,” Delacora began.

  “It’s probably not going to be. Sorry to interrupt.”

  “Has there been an arrest?” Steinburger asked.

  “Funny you should ask. Joel Steinburger, you’re under arrest for the murder of K.T. Harris, for the murder of A. A. Asner,” she continued, spinning him around, yanking his hands behind his back as he blustered. “And the attempted murder of Julian Cross. He didn’t die,” she added.

  Dishes clattered; the murmur of conversation turned to a buzz.

  “You’ve lost your mind.”

  “Oh, and we’ve got more.” She cuffed him. “A lot more. Hope you ate hearty, Joel, because you won’t be dining in style for the rest of your life. You have the right to remain silent,” she began, and reeled off the Revised Miranda while diners gaped. “Officers.”

  The uniforms she’d called in took Steinburger by both arms. “Book him, Peabody. Additional charges to come.”

  “My pleasure, sir.”

  “I’ll be along shortly.”

  She enjoyed, a great deal, watching the cops perp-walk Steinburger out.

  “Sorry about dessert,” she said to Delacora. “It looks good, too.”

  “Is this a joke?” he demanded.

  “No. It really does look good.” She frowned when she saw Roarke talking to the maître d’, walked to him. “Look, I’m sorry if arresting a murderer puts people off their dinner, but—”

  “On the contrary, I think it stirred some appetites. Including mine. I’m hungry and I’m not risking food poisoning from Central’s vending machines.”

  “I don’t have time to sit down to a fancy dinner.”

  “We’re getting it delivered.”

  “Oh.” She angled her head. “Good idea.”

  23

  NATURALLY HE ORDERED ENOUGH FOR EVERYBODY, but Eve couldn’t complain since she was stuffing rosemary chicken in her mouth while she stood in Observation.

  “I can’t believe he didn’t lawyer up yet.” Peabody scooped up a fingerling potato.

  “He’s too pissed for a lawyer—yet. And he needs to prove he’s in power. He’s Joel fucking Steinburger. He’s still thinking of spin, too, I bet. Let’s take Valerie first, let him soak in it a little longer.”

  “She’s scared,” Peabody told Eve. “The uniforms said she shook all the way here when they picked her up on Accessory. And cried all the way through booking.”

  “Then we’ve primed the pump.”

  Tears began to trickle down Valerie’s cheeks the minute Eve and Peabody walked into the interview room.

  “Please, you’ve made a terrible mistake. This could ruin my career.”

  “Gee, I bet K.T. felt the same way when you and Steinburger killed her.”

  “What are you talking about! We did no such thing. I’m getting a lawyer.”

  “Okay.” Shrugging, Eve rose again. “That’s going to take a few hours, given the time. Peabody, take Valerie back to a holding cell.”

  “No! No!” As if to anchor herself in place, Valerie gripped the table. “Don’t put me in there again.”

  “That’s where you wait until your lawyer clears. Meanwhile we’ll be talking to Steinburger. I’m sure he’ll have fascinating things to say about you.”

  “This is crazy! I haven’t done anything.”

  “Sorry, we can’t talk to you once you’ve requested a lawyer until your lawyer is present. Peabody.”

  “No! I’m not going back in that cell. I’ll talk to you now.”

  “You are waiving your right to a lawyer?”

  “Yes. Yes. Let’s just get this straightened out.”

  “Who left the theater on the night of K.T. Harris’s death?”

  “K.T.” Valerie hunched her shoulders, gripped her forearms. “I saw her go out as soon as the houselights dimmed. Julian went out a few minutes later. I’m not sure how long, but a few minutes. And then, well, a few minutes later, Joel went out.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “Yes. Connie went out the side door. I only noticed because I was going to move over to her, ask her some questions about the buffet, for a story. But she slipped out even before K.T. And—and Nadine Furst, she went out. That was after everyone else.”

  “Now try reverse. Who came back?”

  “Connie, but close to the end of the show. And Nadine. I don’t think she was gone long. Ten or fifteen minutes, maybe. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Keep going.”

  “K.T. and Julian didn’t come back, but Joel did. He was only gone a little while. Fifteen minutes, maybe. Not much longer than that. But I’m not sure. Honestly, I was getting some work done. That’s the truth.”

  “Why didn’t you give us this information before?”

  “Joel asked me not to. He said Julian and K.T. had argued, and she’d had an accident.”

  “When did he tell you this?”

  “That night, the night it happened. We were working on a statement for the media, and I said something about seeing people going in and out. I asked if he’d dealt with Julian, and how he wanted to handle it if he leaked he’d passed out drunk. And I was upset—anyone would be—and I wondered if the police were going to push at Julian because he’d left and hadn’t come back. That’s why I wanted to know if Joel had been with him.”

  “And, Joel said?”

  “He said we all had to do what was best now for each other, for the project. We had to protect each other, and then he told me what had happened. That it had been an accident, one she’d brought on herself but one Julian would pay for if the police knew he’d gone out after her. He said he’d take care of everything, and all I had to do was say I hadn’t seen anyo
ne leave.”

  “So you covered up a murder.”

  “He said it was an accident. He said you’d twist it into a murder because you’d get more play out of it, with all the stars involved, you’d ride on it for months. Besides, K.T. was a hideous excuse for a human being, all right? I worked my ass off to keep the worst of her out of the media, and she never had a good word to say to or about me. Julian’s a sweetheart. So when Joel Steinburger asks me to keep quiet to keep Julian’s head off the block, I keep quiet.”

  “For a price.”

  Her mouth thinned. “He offered the bonus. Yes, I understood it was a bribe. I would’ve done as he asked without it, but I wasn’t going to turn down the money.”

  “So you lied for him again, the very next day.”

  “I was at his place. I was working, but … he did go out, at least for a while. He said he had a date, and he wanted my discretion. He and his wife are estranged, but he’s still married. It’s perfectly understandable he didn’t want anyone to know he was seeing someone. He’s entitled to a private life.”

  “What time did he come back?”

  “I don’t know. I swear.”

  She covered her face with her hands. “God, how did this get to be such a mess.”

  “Lying and covering up will do that.”

  “I was just trying to do my job. That night I went to bed about midnight, and I checked, but the lights were still on in the foyer. The next day, before you talked to us about the detective, Joel called me into his office. He pointed out it would be easier, less complicated, if both of us had an alibi for the night before. As it was, neither of us did, and that would mean we’d stay under suspicion for the death of this man neither of us even knew. He said he knew he could count on me, and he said he’d arranged for the VIP suite, since I’d be so busy—and that my creativity and loyalty would be rewarded.

  “He makes and breaks careers. He was making mine.”

  “And because you lied, Julian Cross almost died tonight.”

  Shock radiated as her voice pitched in panic. “What are you talking about? What happened? Is he all right?”

  “Think about it. Think about how many lives your career’s worth.”