Strangers in Death

by J. D. Robb

  Leopold shifted his stance. “I don’t understand why this matters to you.”

  “Oh, every little thing matters to me. This reprimand, that may or may not have happened? How did they get along afterward?”

  “Back to status quo. I believe she sent Mr. Reginald a box of his favorite caramel creams as an apology.”

  “Hmm. Mrs. Anders’s position here rises with the death of her husband. The late Mr. Anders held fifty-five percent of the shares in the company, Ben came in with fifteen, and Ava held a token two percent. Is that correct?”

  “I believe so.”

  She had his attention now, Eve noted. Big-time.

  “At his death, those fifty-five shares are divided between Ben and Ava. Forty to Ben, giving him controlling interest. But fifteen added to Ava’s original two brings her well up in the world. And there are twenty-eight more shares out there. A smart, resourceful woman should be able to get her fingers on a few of those, particularly when her two closest friends hold small percentages. She could bump that share up to thirty, thirty-five without breaking too much of a sweat. That’s a powerful chunk of a company like this. And you know what, Leo, now that we’re just pals chatting, you don’t seem shocked and surprised by what I’m implying here.”

  “If you’re asking if I believe Mrs. Anders killed her husband, no, I don’t. She was out of the country, and the nature…the circumstances of his death are a personal humiliation to her. She’s not a woman who enjoys humiliation. If you’re asking if I’m surprised you’d find her capable of killing, again, no, I’m not.”

  “I’m a cop. Nobody’s surprised that I think anyone’s capable of killing. Why do you believe she’s capable?”

  Leopold was either relaxed enough now, or interested enough to take a seat. “I don’t like her, on a personal level. I find her ruthless, under a veneer of sophistication, under a guise of good works. The good works—this is my opinion—they didn’t matter to her as much as the attention she gained from them, the media and the accolades. She resents Ben because his uncle doted on him, and I think, because people enjoy and admire Ben. She didn’t love her husband.”

  “At last!” Eve slapped a hand on her leg. “Somebody says it. Why did you?”

  Leopold’s eyes widened at Eve’s reaction. “I—I honestly don’t know. She was invariably affectionate, even attentive. Patient. But every now and then there was a tone, or a look. I can only tell you that I don’t believe she loved him, but she loved being Ava Anders. Everything I’ve said here is off the record. Everything I’ve said here I’ll deny on the record.”

  “We’re just talking here. Anything to add, Peabody?”

  “You covered a lot. I was just thinking that one of the quickest and surest ways to gain sympathy and support is to be humiliated by the actions of another. A little red-face might be a reasonable trade-off for all the shoulders, all the ‘isn’t she brave’s. It’s a thought.”

  Leopold stared. “She was in St. Lucia.”

  “Yeah, she was.” Eve nodded, pushed to her feet. “Still, it’s interesting. You might want to mention to Ben that my partner and I came by and were asking you these interesting questions about Ava. Meanwhile, I’d like to have copies of all the files on all the projects she worked on. With Ben, or otherwise.”

  “All? For the last sixteen years?”

  “No, all the way back to when she started at the company.” She grinned at the way that previously tight jaw dropped. “Might as well be thorough.”

  “There will be hundreds. Hundreds of hundreds.”

  “Then you’d better get started.”

  “This will take a little time. You may want to wait in the client lounge.”

  “We’ll come back. An hour enough time?”

  “Yes, that should do.”

  In the elevator, Peabody turned to Eve. “How did you know he’d be the go-to guy on this?”

  “He’s in love with Ben. Knows it’s hopeless, but he can’t help what he feels. First, anything that has to do with Ben, he’s going to pick up on his emotional radar. Second, I figure somebody who’s got all those repressed feelings recognizes when someone else’s feelings are a sham. Third? We got really lucky, pushed the right button at the right time. Contact Edmond Luce. I’m betting he and his wife are still in New York. I want another talk with him.”

  11

  LUCE AND HIS WIFE REMAINED IN NEW YORK, in residence in one of the ritzy suite’s at Roarke’s Palace Hotel. Linny Luce—Eve wondered how she felt about ending up with that name—opened the door and introduced herself.

  She was what Eve thought of as a solid woman, well-built and compact like an efficient car designed for low maintenance and long usage. Thick brown hair with white wings framed a face more handsome than pretty. She wore a long-skirted black suit with sensible low-heeled boots and exquisite pearls. Her handshake was firm and businesslike.

  “Edmond is on the ’link with London. He shouldn’t be long. Please sit. I ordered up tea. It’s quite good here. But I expect you know that, it being your husband’s establishment.”

  She sat on the fat cream and white cushions of the sofa, poured out. “Milk or lemon?”

  Neither was going to make Eve like tea any more than she did. “Just black, thanks.”

  “Detective?”

  “Milk, one sugar, thanks.”

  “This is a difficult day for us. I hope you’ll understand how I mean it when I say your call was a welcome distraction. Edmond and I…we can’t quite fathom what to do with ourselves. After the memorial…Maybe it will be easier after the memorial, after we go back home.”

  She sighed, looking toward the wide windows that opened to the towers of New York. “Life goes on, doesn’t it? It has to.”

  “You knew Mr. Anders a long time.”

  “Yes. Edmond and Tommy were friends longer, of course. But I knew Tommy over forty years. We can’t think what to do with ourselves. I’m sorry, I said that, didn’t I?”

  “Can I ask you, Mrs. Luce, since you knew him well before his marriage, if you could tell us if he had any serious relationships before his wife?”

  “Serious? I wouldn’t say. He enjoyed the company of women, but he simply enjoyed the company of people. We used to tease him quite a bit about settling down. I admit I tried matchmaking a few times.”

  “I wonder if you could give me some names and contact information, on women you remember Mr. Anders’s…enjoying.”

  “Yes, I could do that.” Linny looked straight into Eve’s eyes. “You’re asking this because of the way he was killed. That was not Tommy. I will never believe otherwise.”

  “When did you first meet Ava Anders?”

  “Oh, she was still working for Anders—a public relations exec. I can’t recall her title, if I ever knew. I first met her at a charity event here in New York. Ava had done the PR. A fund-raiser for one of the sports camps Tommy built. Black-tie, with dinner and dancing, a silent auction, an orchestra. Very elaborate, as I recall. She was very bright and clever. I remember watching them dancing at some point during the evening, and telling Edmond Tommy better watch out with that one.”

  “Watch out?”

  “I suppose what I meant was, she very much had her eye on him, and seemed a woman who knew how to get what she wanted. Which proved to be true. It wasn’t long after that they began to see each other socially, and whenever the four of us got together, it was obvious he was besotted by her, and she so…tickled by him.”

  “Did you like her?”

  Linny’s eyes widened. “Yes, of course, I did. Do. The four of us had some very lovely times together.”

  “Would you say he remained besotted and she tickled?”

  “It’s very difficult even for good friends to judge the inside of another’s marriage. And marriages evolve and adjust. They remained devoted to each other, certainly.”

  “Friends, women friends,” Peabody put in, “often discuss aspects of their marriage with each other. Dish a little on their husban
ds, vent their frustrations, have some laughs over the little quirks and habits.”

  “They do,” Linny said with a smile. “Yes, they do. Ava and I aren’t intimate in that way. We get along quite well, but we don’t have as warm or close a relationship, you might say, as Tommy and I did. Frankly, Tommy was the glue there. I enjoy an afternoon at the football pitch, and Ava preferred the shops and galleries. I have grandchildren, and she doesn’t. I’m fifteen years her senior, after all.”

  She glanced over as her husband strode in. “There you are, Edmond.”

  “Sorry for the delay. Lieutenant, Detective.” He sat like a man weary to the bone. “There’s to be a memorial in London, in fact, in every city around the world with an Anders base. There were details I needed to address quickly.”

  Linny put a hand on his knee, patted it briskly in a gesture that translated absolute unity to Eve. “You’ll have some tea now.”

  “Mr. Luce, with Mr. Anders’s death, how much influence in the company will Mrs. Anders gain?”

  “Considerable, if she wants it, I suppose, but Ava’s never been interested in the business per se. In the charities, the programs, the publicity, but not the mechanics of running things. That will be for Ben.” He let out a long sigh. “In fact, he called just as I was finishing with London. He plans to arrange a meeting of the board and executive officers early next week. He’s asked me to consider coming on as his second in command.”

  “Oh, Edmond.”

  “I know.” It was his turn to pat his wife’s knee. “I planned to ease back a bit. More than a bit,” he admitted. “With the goal of retiring within the next two years. I hadn’t told Tommy yet. In fact, I planned to broach the subject when we golfed, the day…the day he died. He’d want me to help Ben during the transition, Linny. I may still make that two-year goal.”

  “Mr. Luce, did Ben indicate he’d discussed this with Mrs. Anders?”

  “No, why would he?”

  “She has a seventeen percent share of the company now.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I’m sorry, I’m not thinking very clearly today. In any case, as I said, Ava’s never been interested in the company.”

  “But as the next majority share holder, as the widow of the company’s president, she would be within her rights to expect a more hands-on position, a seat on the board maybe—and that goes along with that.”

  “Technically, yes, I suppose so. But realistically, I can’t imagine it.”

  “You knew Reginald Anders?”

  “Oh yes.” Edmond’s face lightened with a smile. “In fact, it was Reggie who first hired me, more than half a century ago.”

  “At his death, Thomas Anders inherited the majority share of the company, correct?”

  “Yes. As Ben will now. Tommy considered Ben his son, and followed his own father’s lead on that.”

  “Just so I have all the details straight. I understand Ava Anders has a small percentage of the company—well, a larger one now. But the initial share, did she come into that at her father-in-law’s death?”

  “I believe that’s correct. Reggie was very fond of Ava.”

  “All right, we appreciate you seeing us at a difficult time.” Her ’link signaled, and checking the display, she ordered it to answer, identify, and hold. “I need to take this. Is it possible I could use another room?”

  “Of course.” Linny got quickly to her feet. “Let me show you to the office. Would you like to take your tea?”

  “No, that’s fine.” She followed her hostess into a top-flight office done with plush leather and glossy wood.

  “I’ll write down those names you asked for while you’re taking your call. Be comfortable,” Linny told her, and backing out, closed the double doors behind her.

  Eve engaged her ’link. “This is Lieutenant Dallas, Mr. Bronson, thank you for holding.”

  “Well, well. If I’d known you were this attractive, I’d have gotten back to you sooner. What can I do for you, Lieutenant Brown Eyes?”

  “First, you can cut the crap.”

  “Mmm. I love ’em sassy.” He grinned at her, the same shit-eating grin from his official ID photo. Eve figured he’d practiced and perfected that one in the mirror. “So tell me what a sassy, brown-eyed police lieutenant from New York wants with Dirk.”

  Dirk, she thought, was a complete asshole who had smooth, tanned cheeks that told her he’d had considerable and skilled work. Golden brows arched over eyes of Mediterranean blue like the sea she caught glimpses of behind him. His golden hair waved in the undoubtedly balmy breeze.

  “You were married to an Ava Montgomery.”

  “Wasn’t I just? A brief yet memorable episode in my past. Don’t tell me Ava’s in trouble.” He laughed as though little could amuse him more. “What did she do? Hire the wrong caterer?”

  “Her current husband was murdered a few days ago.”

  “Really?” His eyebrows quirked, and for a moment his face seemed to hold an expression other than smug conceit. “That’s…inconvenient. He’s a, what is it, a sporting goods king or something? I believe I own one of his tennis rackets.” Then he laughed, all brassy amusement. “Do you think I killed him? After all these years, to win back the fair Ava? This is exciting.”

  “Why don’t you tell me where you were on March eighteenth, and we’ll get that little joke out of the way.”

  “Cruising the Aegean, as I am now—with a bevy of beauties, a number of friends, and a full crew. Would you like to come interrogate me?”

  “I’ll keep that in reserve. When’s the last time you saw your ex-wife?”

  “Which ex-wife?”

  “Don’t waste my time, Dirk.”

  “So serious. Let’s see, when did Dirk last lay eyes on the lovely Ava? Ten years ago? No, longer. How time does fly. Closer to fifteen, I think. I bumped elbows with her in New York, if memory serves, at some party or premiere. Whatever. I believe she’d been recently married to the sports king.”

  “Why did you and Ava divorce?”

  “Who remembers? I’m sure I strayed, as I do enjoy variety. Dirk is no damn good and has a selection of ex-wives and women who would be delighted to verify that.”

  “She didn’t satisfy you sexually?”

  Avid amusement shone in his eyes. “Well, aren’t we nosy?”

  She saw him shift, heard the rattle of ice in a glass, then watched him sip something tall and rosy. “She was—and my memory is clear on this—delightful in bed, and other interesting places. We wouldn’t have gotten as far as marriage otherwise. But I have a weak will and a roving eye. In any case, I wasn’t ambitious enough for her as I was—and am—content to coast and cruise. She wanted something—someone—who would provide her with opportunities for money and fame, respect. Like, I imagine, the dead sports king. I enjoy my sloth. We weren’t suited.”

  “So she left you.”

  “With a tidy sum and not a backward glance. Her cold heart and steely resolve were part of her appeal to me. As I recall, she introduced me to the woman I strayed with, and gave me far too many opportunities to take advantage. But somehow, she didn’t see it as her fault when I took advantage. Imagine that!”

  “Imagine that. Thanks for your time.”

  “It’s been entertaining. If you ever want to coast or cruise, be sure to look me up.”

  “Yeah, I’ll jump right on that.” She clicked off, stood for a moment absorbing. Then she went out to take leave of the Luces.

  Sounds like a big, oily ball of smile,” Peabody commented after Eve filled her in.

  “Yeah, he does. Polar opposite of Anders.”

  “Devil’s advocate. A woman gets burned like that, it’s reasonable she’d look for a completely different type.”

  “Yeah, absolutely logical, absolutely reasonable. Good plan.”

  “You really think plan? Like, okay, sleazy ex-husband dispatched. Check. Now hook nice guy with deep pockets?”

  “She introduced the ex to the woman he cheated with. Read between
the lines, Peabody. If you know a kid’s addicted to ice cream, do you put a big chocolate sundae in front of him and walk away? If you want out of a marriage with a tidy sum, sympathy, and no fault on you, what better way than to set up your weak-willed, roving-eyed husband? It’s something she’d do. It’s exactly something she’d do.

  “I want to talk to Greta again. You go back, pick up the files. If you need help transporting, order it up. When you get back to Central, do a search for repeating names. Any that show multiple times in any program. Run those first.”

  She pulled over, spoke over the ensuing storm of horns. “Take the wheel. I’ll catch a cab, then tap Roarke for a ride to the memorial.”

  She checked the address in her book, then decided to walk a few blocks to clear her head before engaging in the war for a cab. Since she was on foot, she pulled out her ’link to check on Feeney.

  He answered, honking like a dying goose. “Man, you sound sick.”

  “I am sick. Goddamn it. You think I’m lying here in bed drinking this disgusting boiled tree bark they gave me for my health?”

  She waited a beat. “Well. Yeah.”

  “I’m burning up. I’ve got hot shards of glass in my throat and ten pounds of snot in my head. And what do they do? What do they do?” His eyes bugged out like glass marbles. “They give me fucking liquid tree bark and the wife’s poured so much chicken soup down me, I’m starting to cluck. I don’t want to die here in this damn bed. If this is the end, I want to buy it at my desk, like a man. You gotta get me out of here, Dallas. You gotta bust me out. You can take Sheila.”

  His face was wildly flushed, but Eve thought that was as much from sick panic as sickness. And she wasn’t altogether sure she could take Feeney’s wife. “Ah, what? I can’t hear you. It must be a bad ’link.”

  “Don’t you pull that crap on me.”

  “Okay, okay. How about this? I’ve got Peabody picking up files, hundreds of them from Anders Worldwide. It’s the wife, Feeney, I know it in my guts. But I’ve got nothing to take to the commander, much less the PA. The search and runs on these files are going to take hours. Maybe days. Peabody could fill you in, toss some to you. You could work from there.”