Strangers in Death (17 page)

Eve grabbed her coat, considered the crullers. If she left them there, out in the open, even the box would be devoured when she got back. She could hide it, but the vultures would sniff it out, which could lead them to the candy she’d stashed where—so far—the Candy Thief hadn’t discovered it.

She snatched up the box on the way out. Better safe than crullerless.

L
eopold Walsh had struck Eve as a man who manned his station, and guarded his prince whatever the crisis. She was right. He met them in his office—sober eyes, dark suit, and a black armband.

“I don’t expect Mr. Forrest today,” Leopold began. “Mr. Anders’s memorial is scheduled for two this afternoon.”

“We’re aware of that.” No offer of coffee, Eve noted, no invitation to sit. Don’t like us much, do you, Leo? “Mr. Forrest and his uncle were very close, personally and professionally. Would you agree with that assessment?”

“I would.”

“As you work closely with Mr. Forrest, you’d be privy to their dealings together.”

“Of course.”

Eve smiled. She had to admire a man who knew how to answer without saying anything. “I imagine you formed opinions regarding Thomas Anders—professionally and personally.”

“I hardly see how my opinion is relevant.”

“Humor me.”

“In my opinion, Mr. Thomas Anders was a fair and honest man who brought that fairness and honesty into business. He trusted, correctly, that his nephew would do the same.”

“The manner of Mr. Anders’s death must have caused some speculation and gossip within the organization, and its accounts.”

Leopold’s jaw tightened. “People will talk, Lieutenant. It’s human nature.”

But you don’t, she thought. No juicy office gossip for you. But you hear it, file it.

“What’s the buzz about Mrs. Anders?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

Tighten that jaw another notch, Leo, something’s going to snap. “Yes, you do.”

“Mrs. Anders devoted—devotes—much of her considerable energy into the charitable and humanitarian programs sponsored by Anders Worldwide. She’s very well respected.”

“She puts in time around here?”

“Of course, though she most often works from home, or by attending or hostessing functions.”

“You’d have been privy to her dealings with her husband, and with his nephew.”

“Somewhat certainly, as Ben—as Mr. Forrest was gradually taking over his uncle’s duties. Some of those duties involved the programs. I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I have a very crowded day, and a very difficult one. If that’s all—”

“It’s not. How would you describe the relationship between Mr. Forrest and—shit, let’s simplify. How did Ben and Ava get along?”

“They were very cordial, of course. Ben admired her talent and her energy, and was certainly impressed with many of her ideas.”

“Cordial. Not affectionate. He strikes me as an easy and affectionate sort, but you choose the cooler, more formal, ‘cordial’ to describe their relationship.”

“Mrs. Anders was his uncle’s wife.” Leopold’s tone was equally cool and formal. “Their relationship was perfectly proper.”

“Proper, there’s another cool term. Ben doesn’t like her much, does he? Neither do you.”

“I’ve said or implied nothing of the kind. I don’t—”

“Relax. I don’t like her either. So, you can keep standing there with that rod up your ass or…” She dropped into a chair without invitation. “Tell me why. Record off, Peabody,” Eve said as she switched off her own. “Just the three of us, Leo. Off record. What about Ava sticks in your craw?”

Eve watched him debate. Propriety or the opportunity to speak his mind. Opportunity won. “She’s studied, she’s deliberate, and she’s cold. Those aren’t crimes, but personality traits. And…”

“Don’t stop now.” Eve lifted her hands, palms up in invitation.

“There’s a pettiness about her. She would often circumvent Ben by making plans or decisions without consulting him or seeking his input. Her plans and decisions were always well thought out and researched. She had—has—excellent ideas. But it’s been her habit to brush over Ben, a very deliberate habit. In my opinion.”

“How’d Ben take that?”

“It frustrated him from time to time, though I admit, it frustrated me more.”

“Did he ever complain to his uncle?”

“Not to my knowledge, and I believe I would know. He might complain to me, or use me as a sounding board. Invariably, after he had he’d say the same thing. ‘Well, it’s the end result that matters.’ Mrs. Anders gets excellent results.”

“I believe that.”

“I think…”

“We’re off record, Leo. What do you think?”

“I think she often did the same regarding Mr. Anders. That is, failed to keep him in the loop until whatever she planned was essentially a
fait accompli
. There was some office gossip, and I don’t like office gossip.”

“Me, I love it. How about you, Peabody?”

“Revs up the day. What kind of gossip?” Peabody asked Leo.

“There was talk that she charged certain personal expenses to program budget. Household purchases, wardrobe, salons, that sort of thing. Nothing major, you understand. That pettiness again, from my point of view. I heard Mr. Anders, I mean Mr. Reginald Anders, called her on it.”

“Her father-in-law? When would this be?”

“I couldn’t say, exactly. He’s been gone nearly two years now. I only remember the talk because they got along very well, so the reprimand—if there was one—wouldn’t be expected.”

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 husbands, 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?”