by J. D. Robb
“Yeah, he’ll stay put. If I doubted it, I’d lock him up. Right now, I’m more worried about . . . well, hmmm,” she finished when she saw the object of her concern leaning against the side of her vehicle. “I have a feeling I’m going to need a minute here, Peabody.”
“God, he looks so sexy when he’s pissed. Can I watch?”
“Stand a minimum of five parking slots away, back turned.” She took one step forward. “Record off,” she added and heard her aide mutter, “Party pooper.”
“You’re loitering, ace,” Eve said to Roarke. “Get moving or I’ll call garage security.”
“I want him out of the country.” His voice was a whip, slashing clean.
“Even you can’t always have what you want.”
“And you’re the last person I’d have expected to stand in my way on this.”
“Yeah, and I’m not real thrilled about it. Summerset is now a material witness. He stays in the city, in protective custody. End of story.”
“Fuck your protective custody. Your cops couldn’t manage to stay on him for six blocks. Do you think I’d trust them with him now?”
“Don’t you mean trust me?”
“Apparently it comes to the same.”
That slash hurt, cutting deep across the belly. “You’re right, it does, and I let you down. I’m sorry.”
Emotion, violent and hot, sprang into his eyes. She braced for them, prepared to let him blast at her until he’d cleared out the turmoil. Instead he turned away, rested his hands on the roof of her vehicle.
“God. Would you stand there and let me slap at you? Have I gone that far over?”
“You’ve done it for me plenty of times. Point is, I picked the men to trail him, and they lost him. So, it’s on me.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“No, that’s chain of command. Just like you figuring, because he’s yours, what almost happened to him is on you. Once we both swallow that, we move to the next stage. Roarke.”
She started to touch his shoulder, then stuck her hand in her pocket. “Don’t ask or expect him to do what you wouldn’t do yourself. I’m not happy about what happened this morning, but when it comes down to it, he handled himself. Let’s give him credit for it, and get back on track.”
“They would know he’s important to me. What the loss of him, in that way, would do. For the money and the thrill. Well, I’ve done my share of dirty deeds for the money and the thrill.”
She waited a moment. “Is that an Irish thing? Deciding maybe bad stuff happens because you’ve been bad?”
He gave a half-laugh, turned back to her. “More a Catholic one, I suppose. It springs up at the most unexpected moments, no matter how far you stray. No, I don’t think this is payment for my past. But I do think it’s crept in from it, and has to be dealt with.”
And deal with it he would, no matter how hurtful that might be.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“When I know for certain, I will tell you. Eve, you didn’t let me down. I had no right to make you think otherwise.”
“It’s all right. At least I got to be there when you fired Summerset. Maybe you could wait a couple of weeks, then do it again. For real.”
He smiled, trailed his fingertips over the ends of her hair. Then his gaze shifted up and over as the elevator opened. Summerset stepped out between two plainclothes cops.
Eve gave a little sigh as she watched the men lock eyes. There were things between them she would never fully understand. “But I guess right now, you’d better go talk to him and do that manly makeup deal.”
“Lieutenant?”
“Yeah, what?”
“Give me a kiss.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I need it.”
She rolled her eyes for form, but rose onto her toes and touched her mouth to his. “They got security cams in here, so that’s all you get. I’ve got places to go. Peabody!”
Still she waited until Roarke had crossed the garage, walked up the line of unmarked vehicles to Summerset.
“They’re like family, huh?” Peabody said as she got into the car. “Hey! That makes you sort of like Summerset’s daughter-in-law.”
Horror drained all color from Eve’s cheeks. All she could do was press a hand to her stomach. “Jesus, I feel sick.”
The Minces were staying in what the hotel called their Executive Suite, Luxury Level. This meant the room was large, airy, and separated into sitting room and bedrooms by a fancy latticed screen that bloomed with flowering vines. A corner of the sitting room was efficiently arranged into a mini-office area with a communication and data system built into a trim console so those executives fortunate enough to be able to afford the accommodations could work in style.
Mince had obviously been doing just that when Eve interrupted him. The console was humming discreetly, and there was a pot of coffee sitting on the refreshment extension.
“Oh, Lieutenant. I’d forgotten you were coming.”
“I appreciate you agreeing to speak with me.”
“Of course, of course, it’s not a problem at all.” He gave the suite a distracted look, seemed mildly surprised to find all in place. “I’m afraid I tend to bury myself in work once I begin. Poor Minnie despairs of me. I think she said she was going out to shop, or was it the beauty salon? Did you want to speak to her as well?”
“I can always arrange for that another time.”
“Let me get you something. The coffee’s probably fresh. I think Minnie plunked it down for me before she left.”
“Thanks.” She agreed because it would keep things informal, then sat on one of the pretty chairs while he fussed with cups.
“And for you, Officer?”
“If it’s no trouble.”
“Not at all, not at all. Such a wonderful hotel. Everything you could possibly need or want right at your fingertips. I have to admit, when Magda had the brainstorm to hold the event here, I wasn’t happy. I’ve certainly changed my mind.”
“She was set on it?”
“Ummm. She wanted the auction in New York. She had her first professional role onstage here. Though she made her true mark in film, she’s never forgotten it was Broadway that gave her the first break.”
“You’ve been together, you and Magda, a long time.”
“Longer than either of us would like to remember.”
“Like family,” Eve said, remembering Peabody’s statement.
“Oh yes, very much like family. All the ups and downs and the byways,” he said as he brought over the coffee. “We’ve stood up for each other at weddings, held onto each other at funerals, paced the floors for each other at births. I’m godfather to her son. She’s a magnificent woman. I’m honored to be her friend.”
Eve said nothing while he took his seat. “Friends can be protective of friends. Sometimes too protective.”
He gave her a puzzled expression. “I don’t follow you.”
“Does she know just how big a financial hole Vincent Lane is in this time?”
“I don’t discuss the personal lives of my friends, Lieutenant. And as Magda’s manager, would hardly discuss her finances or those of her son with the police.”
“Even if discussing it might save her considerable grief? I’m not a reporter, Mr. Mince. I’m not here for gossip. I’m concerned with the security of your friend and her belongings.”
“I hardly see what Vince’s financial position has to do with security.”
“You’ve bailed him out before, haven’t you? One or the other of you. And you keep bailing him out. He sinks again. Consider this. His main meal ticket, his mother is about to give away upwards of a billion dollars. How does that sit with him?”
She caught the flicker in his gaze before he looked away. “I hardly see what—”
“Mr. Mince. I can get warrants. I can oblige you to come into Interview and ask these questions on the record. I don’t want to do that, for a number of reasons. One of those reas
ons is my husband has a great deal of admiration and affection for your friend. I’m thinking of him, and of her, and what it could mean to both of them if there’s any scandal with this auction.”
“Surely you don’t think Vince means to cause any trouble? He wouldn’t dare.”
“Does she know his current financial situation?”
Mince seemed to sink in his chair. Worry creased his forehead as he set his coffee aside. “No. I haven’t told her this time. She thinks he’s turned over a new leaf. She’s so thrilled that he’s taken such a personal interest in her foundation, in the auction . . .” He trailed off, looked back at Eve, horrified.
Then he shook his head. “But no. No. There’s nothing he can do at this point to stop the event from going through. It’s done, as far as the end result. All the paperwork is filed. The proceeds go to the Foundation. That’s locked in. He can’t stop it. It doesn’t matter that he was against it initially.”
“He tried to stop it?”
Mince rose, paced the room, his palms pressed together as he tried to think it through. “Yes. Yes, he argued bitterly against it. She was giving away his inheritance, his birthright. They had a terrible row over it. She’d reached the end of her rope with him, told him it was time he worked for a living, and that she would not again sail to his rescue with money to plug the holes he kept digging in his life. She said one of the benefits of the Foundation would be that she couldn’t just pass him the money. She was setting it up that way for him, for herself, and for those who needed a helping hand.”
“What happened to turn him around?”
“I don’t know.” He lifted his hands, spread his fingers. “He walked out on her, furious. Brought her to tears, and she doesn’t shed them lightly. He was out of contact for over two weeks. None of us knew where he was. Then he came back, head bowed, full of contrition. He said she was right, of course, that he was sorry and ashamed and wanted to do everything he could to make her proud of him.”
“You didn’t believe him, did you?”
He opened his mouth, then let out a sigh. “Not for a minute. But she did. She adores Vince, even as she despairs of him. She was so thrilled when he asked to work on the event. And it seemed, for a time, he’d meant everything he said. Then the bills began coming in again. I had them transferred to me directly to try to spare her. I talked to him, paid them. Talked to him, paid them. Then I threatened to go to Magda. He broke down, begged me not to, promised it would be the last time.”
“When was that?”
“Just before we came out East. He has been on his best behavior since, but . . .” He glanced back toward the data center. “A number of new bills have just come in today. I’m at my wit’s end.”
“Have any of the bills you’ve paid since his confrontation with his mother included transportation fees to Delta Colony or to Paris?”
Mince folded his lips into a tight line. “Both. He has friends in those places. I can’t say I completely approve, though they do come from good families. There’s a wildness to them, a carelessness. Vince’s debts always go deeper when he’s in contact with Dominic II Naples or Michel Gerade.”
“Mr. Mince, can I have your permission to see the bills that came due this morning?”
“Lieutenant, I don’t even share such matters with my wife. You’re asking me to breach a trust.”
“No, I’m asking to help you keep one.” She got to her feet. “Would Vince Lane hurt his mother for financial gain?”
“Physically harm Magda? No, no, of course not. That’s completely out of the question.”
“There are other ways beyond the physical.”
Mince’s lips trembled. “Yes. Yes, there are. And yes, I’m afraid he would. He loves her. In his way, he loves her very much. But he . . . I’ll bring up the data for you.”
It took Eve less than thirty seconds to spot what she was looking for. “Naples Communications. One million dollars.”
“Horrible,” Mince said from behind her. “Vince has no need for a system of that complexity. I can’t imagine what he was thinking.”
“I can,” Eve murmured.
“You think he’ll stick to his word about not telling Magda or Lane about this?” Peabody asked as they took the elevator up to Lane’s floor.
“Yeah, at least for the time being. Long enough, anyway, to give us a shot at him, and his pals.”
“Screwing over his own mother. That’s the lowest.”
“I think murder beats that out.”
They walked down the quiet hall, rang the bell beside one of the glossy double doors. Lane opened the door himself.
He was dressed casually in a spring sweater and trousers. His feet were bare, and he wore a trendy sport’s wrist unit. He had a wide, perfect smile.
“Eve, how nice to see you again. Or if you’re here to discuss police business, perhaps I should call you Lieutenant.”
“Since I’m here to talk over some points about the auction, you decide.”
He laughed, gestured her inside. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re taking an interest. It really settles my mother’s mind. Please sit, be comfortable. Liza, company!”
Lane’s suite was several snazzy steps up from the Minces’ suite. The living area flowed in a wide curve toward a formal dining area. Chandeliers glimmered overhead, a snow-white piano held court in a corner. A winding gold ribbon of open stairs led to a second level. And down them, brilliantly beautiful in a skinsuit as white as the piano, glided Liza.
Eve didn’t think the glitters at her ears, her wrists, her neck, and her ankles were manmade. How much did those set you back, Vinnie old pal? she wondered.
“Hello.” Liza gave a pouty little smile and fluffed her hair.
“Sorry to interrupt your day,” Eve said pleasantly. “I’d hoped to confer with Vince over a few auction details. The NYPSD wants to be certain Ms. Lane’s event goes smoothly.”
Liza stifled a yawn. “I’ll be glad when it’s over. It’s all anyone wants to talk about.”
“It must be tedious for you.”
“Well, it is. If that’s all you’re going to talk about, I think I’ll go out and do some shopping.”
“Sorry to chase you off. This shouldn’t take very long,” Eve said.
“Why don’t I meet you?” Obviously anxious to placate, Vince moved to her, ran his hands up her arms. “Let’s say twelve-thirty at Rendezvous. We’ll have lunch.”
“Maybe.” The corners of her mouth turned up, and she trailed a finger down the middle of his chest. “You know how I love to be with you, baby doll. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t.”
She picked up a handbag from the table by the door, blew Lane kisses, and strolled out.
“All the business and security and publicity work over the past few days has been boring for her,” Lane said. “She’s been awfully patient.”
“Yeah, a real trooper.” Eve wandered to one of the three antique sofas, sat on an arm of silk. “You’re very involved with the auction, and your mother’s foundation. Takes up a lot of your time.”
“That it does. But it’s worth it.”
“No problem seeing her chuck a billion dollars out the window?”
“All for a good cause,” he said cheerfully. “I couldn’t be more proud of her.”
“Really? Even when you’re flat broke and siphoning off loans for debts from her friends?” She waited a beat while his body jerked. “Wow, Vince, you’re a hell of a sport.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I find your comments in very bad taste.”
“I find plots to steal from family and charity in very bad taste. I find little skunks who’re too lazy to work for a living in very bad taste. But most of all, I find murder in very bad taste. Your guy missed his target this morning, by the way. You want to make sure he doesn’t collect the rest of his fee on that portion of the contract.”
“I want you to leave.” He pointed a finger at the door in what
would have been a dramatic gesture if his arm hadn’t trembled. “I want you to get out. I intend to report this behavior to your superiors. I intend to consult my attorney. I intend—”
“Why don’t you shut up, you miserable excuse for a humanoid. Peabody, record on.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Vincent Lane,” Eve began, “you have the right to remain silent.”
“You’re arresting me?” The color that had drained from his cheeks bloomed back violently. “You think you can arrest me? You have no cause, you have no case, you have nothing on me whatsoever. Do you know who I am?”
“Yeah, I know who you are. You’re scum. Now, you’re going to sit down while I read you the rest of your rights and obligations. Then you’re going to sit there and answer my questions. Because if you don’t, I’m going to haul you downtown, into Interview. And somehow along the way, the media’s going to get wind of it. By the time you’re supposed to be meeting your girlfriend for lunch, it’ll be all over the screen how Vince Lane has been arrested for suspicion of conspiracy to commit grand larceny, conspiracy to transfer stolen goods, and a whole bunch of other fun little conspiracies, too—topped off with the whopper. Conspiracy to commit murder.”
“Murder! You’re crazy. You’ve lost your mind. I never killed anyone. I’m calling my lawyer.”
“You do that.” Eve spoke mildly and stretched out her legs. “You go right on and do that. Wonder how long it’ll take your friends Gerade and Naples to find out you’re hiring a rep to defend you in a murder case. Wonder how long after that they’ll sic Yost on you to cover their own hides. Or maybe they won’t have to hire him.”
She paused, studying her nails as Lane stood frozen by his ’link. “Yeah, I’m thinking he’ll do this one for free. He’s got his own hide to protect. You know what he does to his victims, Vinnie?” She lifted her eyes then, locked on his without an ounce of pity. “He breaks them to pieces, then he makes sure they’re conscious when he rapes them. I’ve got a video I can show you of how he’d take on a man like you. Snap your arm like a twig, pound your face into mush so even your mother wouldn’t know you. Then when you think it can’t get worse, he’d butt-fuck you. And the pain of all of that is so huge, so impossible, you can’t believe it’s real. It’s like some horrible nightmare, some personal hell that opened up and swallowed you whole. And you won’t be able to get out of it, get away from it. Not until he slips that wire around your neck and pulls it tighter. And your feet hammer on the floor. You die pissing yourself.”
