Strangers in Death (34 page)

“She’s nothing like you, and neither are her circumstances.”

“No. But I know how to play her. Baxter, he feels for her. Decent men tend to feel for women like her.”

“But you don’t.”

“No, I don’t. She could’ve walked. Any time. Packed up, grabbed the kids and walked.” Studying Suzanne through the glass, Eve felt not a single twinge of sympathy. “You said she’d sacrifice for her kids, but what has she given them? What kind of life has she opened them to by letting them see, every day, that she’s so weak she’ll let their father slap her around, come and go as he pleases, spend his money on tricks instead of food. You don’t offset that with sports programs, Dr. Mira. That woman took the life of a stranger, the life of a good man, the man who offered her children hope. She did that rather than walk away.

“So yeah, I guess I do feel for her. I feel disgust. I’ve got no qualms about putting her away. I just want to make damn sure I put Ava Anders away with her.”

“Eve.” Mira put a hand on Eve’s arm as Eve started to step out. “There’s a difference between weak and evil.”

“Yeah, but there’s sure a lot of overlap.”

Eve entered Interview. “Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Baxter, Detective David, in Interview with Custer, Suzanne, in the matter of the murder of Custer, Ned, case number HC-20913, and any and all related events or crimes. Detective, have you read Mrs. Custer her rights?”

“No, Lieutenant.”

“Do so. For the record.”

He sighed. “Yes, sir. It’s a formality, Mrs. Custer. You have the right to remain silent.”

Fear widened Suzanne’s eyes, quickened her breath as Baxter recited the Revised Miranda. Eve took a seat at the table, slumped back. “Do you understand your rights and obligations in this matter?” she demanded.

“Yes, but—”

“Here’s something that strikes me, Suzanne. It just seems so damn handy that you’d be sitting at home trying to tag your cheating shitbag of a husband on his ’link while some unidentified hooker’s slitting his throat. What, were you going to ask him to bring home a jug of soy milk?”

“No. He was late. I just wanted to—”

“He was late a lot, wasn’t he? Did you whine on his voice mail every time he was late?”

“No, but—he promised. He promised he wouldn’t be. I said I’d leave him if he didn’t stop.”

“You were never going to leave him.” Eve allowed some of the disgust to eke into her voice. “You didn’t have the guts for that. And now you don’t have to. Instead he’s gone, and you’ve got that nice life insurance policy, the pension.”

“Come on, Lieutenant, ease off a little.”

She scorched Baxter with a look. “You’ve eased off plenty for both of us. Did you find some sap like the detective here to do it for you, Suzanne? Cozy yourself up to some guy who doesn’t slap you around, feels sorry for you. So he does this—” Eve pulled out a crime scene photo, tossed it onto the table. “So you can be free.”

“No.” Suzanne closed her eyes rather than look at the photo. “I didn’t want another man. I just wanted my husband to be a good man, a good father. My kids deserve a good home, a good father.”

“The money you’ve got coming in now, you can get them out of that rattrap. Where are you taking them, Suzanne?”

“I don’t know. I thought, I think, maybe south, maybe down to Arkansas with my sister. Out of the city. Away. I can’t think about it yet. Somewhere else, for a fresh start. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She looked imploringly at Baxter. “Nothing wrong with wanting a fresh start with my kids.”

“Of course not. It’s been rough on you here. Rough for a long time. It’d be good for the kids to get out of the city, somewhere with a lot of green. Anders has sports programs all over the country.”

She winced at the Anders name, looked away. “If I could get them in a good school, down south somewhere, the schools have teams. They have sports.”

“Are you going to give up the freebies?” Eve demanded. “The free equipment, camps, programs, the mom retreats. It’s been a pretty good deal for you, hasn’t it?” Eve flipped open a file. “You had a few nice vacations here, on the Anderses’ dime, didn’t you?”

“Seminars, and—and support groups.”

“Yeah, Thomas Anders gave you and your kids plenty. Too bad about him, huh?” Eve tossed another photo down, one of Thomas Anders dead in his bed.

Suzanne jerked away, dropped her head between her knees and gagged.

“Jesus, Lieutenant! Hey, hey,” Baxter laid a hand on Suzanne’s back. “Take it easy. Take it slow. Let me get you some water.”

“Let her puke.” Eve shoved out of her chair, then dropped down, pushing Suzanne’s head back until their eyes met. “Did it make you sick to do it? Did it curdle your guts to strip off his nice, neat pajamas, tie his hands and feet? Did your hands shake like they are now when you wrapped the rope around his neck? He didn’t give you any trouble, you saw to that. Put him under so you wouldn’t have to see the look in his eyes when he choked.”

“No.” Her eyes wheeled like an animal’s with its leg snapped in a trap. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You still screwed it up. You didn’t tie the rope tight enough, so it took him a long time to die. You didn’t do it the way she told you. She was so specific, but you couldn’t pull it off. Not like she did with Ned. Quick, clean, done. You got messy, you got weak. It looks like she’ll walk, and you’ll spend the rest of your life in a cage. An off-planet cage. You’ll never see your kids again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Detective Baxter, please make her stop.”

“For God’s sake, Dallas, let her breathe. Suzanne. Suzanne.” He eased down to sit on the edge of the table, took Suzanne’s trembling hand, looked into her eyes. “We know it was Ava’s idea. All of it. We know she planned it. If you tell us everything, all of it, maybe we can help you.”

“No, no. You’re trying to trick me. You’re trying to make me say things. She said you’d—”

“She said we’d try to block you in?” Eve finished. “She was right about that. But she told you we’d try to block you in on Ned’s murder and you were clear there. Nothing to worry about there. She didn’t figure this, did she? Neither of you figured this. I know what you did.”

Eve shoved Baxter aside, shoved her face into Suzanne’s. “I know you killed Thomas A. Anders. The man who paid for the equipment your kids are wearing right now. You selfish, heartless bitch.”

“That’s crazy. I didn’t even know him. A person doesn’t kill someone she doesn’t even know.”

“That’s what she told you? They’ll never suspect. She was wrong again, wasn’t she? Her mistakes, all her mistakes, and I’m going to make you pay for every one of them. I’m going to put you in a cage, Suzanne. Look at me!”

With one violent yank, she dragged Suzanne’s chair around. “I’m going to put you in, and she can’t stop me. She won’t try because you’re useless to her now. She’ll cry for the cameras and laugh behind closed doors because you’re too stupid to help yourself. And your kids? It’ll be strangers raising them now.”

“No. Please. God.”

“Lieutenant, come on. Give her a second. Suzanne. You need to tell us everything. If you cooperate, I can help you. I’ll talk to the PA.” Baxter reached down, squeezed her hand. “Maybe she pressured you or threatened you. Blackmailed you. Maybe you felt you didn’t have a choice.”

“I’m compiling evidence against her right now,” Eve broke in. “When I have enough, she’ll be in here. She’ll be the one turning on you. If she flips first, she’ll get the deal. Personally, I want both of you to live the rest of your miserable lives in an off-planet cage. You’ve got one minute. One to change my mind. After that, I’m done. You’re booked, murder in the first, and your kids are gone.”

“Please don’t, please! You don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t understand, you weak, pathetic excuse for a human being. I know what you did. I know how you did it. I know why you did it. And you’ve got one shot to put it out your way or I’ll personally toss you in that cage and lock it.”

“Lieutenant, Lieutenant, give her a chance. Give her a minute. Help us understand,” Baxter said to Suzanne. “I want to understand, so I can help you.”

“I didn’t think it was going to be real!” Suzanne burst out. “I didn’t think it was real. And then it was. I didn’t know what else to do. She said I had to.”

“Spit it out,” Eve snapped. “Who said you had to what?”

Suzanne closed her eyes again. “Ava said I had to kill her husband because she’d killed mine. Just like we agreed.” Suzanne laid her head down on the table. “I’m so tired. I’m so tired now.”

21

EVE STEPPED OUT TO CALL CHER REO, AND TO give Baxter a few moments to help Suzanne compose herself. She flicked a glance over as Mira slipped out of Observation. Mira walked by, stopped at Vending, and ordered three waters, and a Pepsi for Eve.

After finishing her conversation, Eve tucked her ’link back in her pocket, took the tube. “Thanks. PA’s willing to deal for the bigger fish. Ava’s a much bigger fish. A big, splashy one.”

“And Suzanne is nothing and no one, comparatively. She killed, Eve, there’s no disputing it. But she was used.”

“The choice was there; she made it.” Eve drank. “But I’m willing to deal, too.”

“I’ll be watching the rest. When she gets a lawyer, there will be a demand for a psychiatric evaluation.”

“She can have her head shrunk by a platoon of doctors, after I get my confession. And yeah, I’m perfectly aware I’m using her, too. I’ve got no problem with that.”

“You shouldn’t have, but—”

“She’s soft,” Eve interrupted. “That’s what you’re seeing, and you’ve got some sympathy for her. Go ahead. But I see Thomas Aurelious Anders.”

With a nod, Mira went back into Observation.

Eve stepped back into Interview. “Lieutenant Dallas reentering Interview,” she said for the record. “Here’s the deal, Suzanne. Are you listening?”

“Yes, I’m listening.”

“The PA will drop the charges down from one count of Murder One, one count of Conspiracy to Murder to one count of Murder Two. That keeps you on-planet, with visitation access to your kids.”

Tears dripped, as if Suzanne’s eyes were leaking faucets. “How long?”

“Fifteen to twenty.”

“Fifteen. Oh God. God. They’ll be grown.”

“You’ll be eligible for parole in seven,” Baxter told her.

“If you don’t cooperate, if this goes to trial, the charges bounce back. You’re looking at the probability of two life sentences, running consecutively. Off-planet.” Eve sat. “Your choice.”

“My kids. I…I have a sister. Can my kids go to my sister?”

“I’ll look into that. Personally.” Baxter nodded. “I’ll talk to your sister, to Child Services.”

“They’ll be better off with her. I should’ve taken them and gone to my sister years ago.” She swiped at the tears with the tissues Baxter gave her. “Everything would be different if I’d done that. But I didn’t. I thought, Ned’s their father and they should be with their father. I thought, I’m his wife, and I’m supposed to make the home. If I did better, everything would work out. But I didn’t do better, and it just got worse and worse. And then…”

“You met Ava Anders,” Eve prompted.

“Yes.” Suzanne closed her eyes for a moment, took several breaths. “She was so good to us, to everyone. She made me feel like I could do better. Be better. Ned didn’t care about the program, but he didn’t mind. Got the kids out from underfoot, he said. But sometimes, just sometimes, he’d go to a practice or a game. And that was good. He’d even take us out for pizza after sometimes. It was better when he did. And the last time, after the last time he hit me, he promised he wouldn’t do it again. And he didn’t this time. He didn’t hit me for weeks, and he was around more. I thought, this is going to be all right. But then he started coming home late again, and smelling of sex.”

“You talked to Ava about that?” Baxter asked.

“What? No…Before, we talked before. Months ago. Just before the kids went back to school. When they were at camp and I went to the retreat, the end of August. God, Ned was so angry that I went, but it was good to be there. To have that time away. We’d talked before—Ava, I mean.”

Taking the cup of water, she sipped, paused, sipped again. “She was so nice to me. She’d sit with me late at night and talk and talk. She understood how hard it was with Ned that way because her husband hurt her, too. She never told anyone but me. He hurt her, and he made her do things. And he did things with girls—girls who were too young to be hurt that way.

“Everyone thinks he was so good.” Tears streamed out of Suzanne’s eyes, soaking the tissues as she mopped. “But he was a monster.”

“That’s what she told you?”

“She was afraid of him. I know what that’s like. We cried together. She couldn’t stand what he was doing to her, and more, to the children. She said he and Ned were alike. One day, Ned would hurt my babies. One day he could…with Maizie.”

She closed her eyes, shuddered. “He’d never—he’d never touched Maizie like that, but he hit the kids sometimes. When they were bad, or when he’d had too much to drink. I thought, what would I do if he tried to do to Maizie what Mr. Anders did with young girls? I said, I think I said, I’d kill him if he touched her that way.”

Her voice cracked, and began to waver and jump as she continued. “It would be too late then, Ava said, like she was afraid it was too late for her. She said she’d help me. We could help each other. We didn’t have to live like this anymore, or risk the children.”

Suzanne reached for the water, then simply rubbed the cup over her forehead. “She said it was just like in the seminars and groups, where we talked about being proactive, about being strong. Taking action to make a difference. She’d stop Ned and I’d stop Mr. Anders. No one would ever know.”

“Stop?” Eve qualified.

Her shoulders hunched, Suzanne stared at the table. “Kill. We would kill them. No one would know—how could they—because each of us would be innocent of the crime that connected to us. She’d go first, to show good faith. We’d wait a few months and we’d be careful about contacting each other between. Then she’d stop Ned.”

She heaved a breath, looked up at Eve again. “She said stop, not kill. I knew what she meant, I did, but it seemed right when she said it. She’d stop Ned before he hurt my children, stop him from hurting me. And then, we’d wait again, two or three months, and I’d stop Mr. Anders.”

“Did she tell you how you’d stop him?”

Suzanne shook her head. Her eyes continued to flood, but they were empty behind the tears. Beaten, Eve thought. Broken.

“She said she thought she knew a way, so it would look like an accident. And so when they found him they’d know the kind of man he was. She knew I was strong, deep down, and good, a good mother, a good friend. She knew I’d save her, and she’d save me and my kids. We gave each other our word. We recorded it.”

“Recorded?”

“She had a recorder, and we each recorded our intention, our promise. I said my name and that I promised on the lives of my children to kill the monster Thomas A. Anders. That I would kill him with my own hands, and in a way that was symbolic and just. She said the same, except Ned’s name, and she swore on the lives of all the children of the world.”

“Dramatic.”

Little spots of color bloomed on Suzanne’s white cheeks. “It
meant
something. It was important. I felt important. I never felt like that before.”

“What did she do with the recording?”

“She said she was going to put it in a bank box. For safety. After we stopped Ned and Mr. Anders, we’d destroy it together. We didn’t talk much after that. Not for a while. She’s very busy. And when I got home, and everything was the way it is at home, I thought, none of that was real. It was just like a session. Or maybe I wanted to think that.”

She bowed her head, then shoved at the hair that fell over her face. “I don’t know anymore. But I put it away. I forgot about it. Almost all the time. Then things got a little better for a while with Ned. I saw Ava at the offices one day, and I told her how things were better. She smiled at me, and she said they’d get better yet.” On a choked sob, Suzanne pressed a hand to her mouth. “I swear, I didn’t think, didn’t really think about what we’d said that night. I didn’t think of any of that, and Ned started staying out again, and we started fighting again. I told myself I was going to leave him this time, that I was stronger now. Because of Ava.”

Her breath came in two quick hitches. “I felt stronger, because of Ava, and what she’d given me. How she’d made me feel about myself. And then Detective Baxter came with Officer Trueheart, and they said Ned was dead. They said he’d gone into a hotel room with an LC, and he was dead. I never thought about Ava and what we’d said that night, way back in August. I thought it was just as they’d told me. He’d picked up the wrong kind of woman.”

“When did she contact you after that?”

“A few days later.” Suzanne pressed her fingers to her eyes. “That’s when everything fell apart. The kids were in school. I was going to do the marketing. I always do the marketing on Monday morning, so I was walking to the market, and she came up beside me. She said: ‘Keep walking, Suzanne. Keep walking and don’t say anything yet.’ We walked another three blocks, I think, then we crossed and walked another two or three. She had a car, and we got in. When I asked where we were going, she said somewhere we could talk. I told her I had to do the marketing, and she started to drive. And she started to tell me.”

As Suzanne’s breath began to wheeze, Baxter nudged the water toward her. “What did she tell you, Suzanne?”

“She said she’d fulfilled the part of the bargain we’d made, and asked how I felt now that I was free. I couldn’t even talk for a minute. She was different—um, I don’t know how to explain. She laughed, but it was different from before. It scared me. She scared me. I started to cry.”

What else is new, Eve thought, you weak, whiny,
worthless
excuse for a human being.

“I started to say I hadn’t meant any of it. Not really. But it was too late—that’s what she said. It was too late for any second thoughts, any regrets. It was done. Now it was my turn. She kept driving, not even looking at me. She told me how she’d killed Ned.”

Eve waited while Suzanne drank, and mopped more useless tears. “I need the details.”

“Oh, God.” Blubbering, Suzanne covered her face. “Oh, God. I can’t.”

Brutally cold in face, voice, manner, Eve shoved Suzanne’s hands down. “You will. Here’s one thing Ava’s right about. It’s too late. Give me the details.”

Staring at Eve, trembling, Suzanne began. “She—she watched him for a few nights. Followed him into bars, watched him drink, watched him pick up women. Studied him is what she said, learned his habits and routines—his territory. She said his territory. And—and she rented rooms in a couple of the places he used for sex, and mapped them out. Preparation, she said. Preparation was key. She said she made herself look like a whore because that’s what he liked. That’s what most men liked. Please, can I have some more water?”

Baxter rose to fill the cup.

“She stalked him,” Eve prompted.

“I guess. I guess. She said she went up to him while he was drinking, told him he looked like he knew how to party. She sat with him awhile—not too long, she said because she didn’t want anyone to pay attention to her. She put her hand between his legs, rubbed. She said he came along with her like an idiot dog. That’s what she called him.”

The water in the cup Baxter gave her sloshed, dripped over the rim as Suzanne lifted it to drink. “They went to one of the places she’d mapped out. And when they were upstairs, he grabbed at her breasts, and she let him, let him touch her. But she told him she needed the bathroom first. And in the bathroom she put on a suit like doctors wear, and she sealed her hands, too, then got the knife. She called out for Ned to turn around. Turn around and close your eyes, she said to him. She had a big surprise for him.

“I’m sorry, I—I spilled water on the table.”

“Finish it,” Eve ordered.

“God.” As if to hold herself in place, Suzanne crossed her arms tight over her own torso. “She said he did what she told him, like a good boy, and she came out, came out and she used the knife. She said he made the funniest noises, and grabbed at his throat like he had an itch there. How his eyes got so big, how he tried to talk. How he fell, and the way the blood just gushed out. How he just lay there and she…God. She cut it off, cut his penis off. A sym—a symbol. She put everything back in the bag she had, and when she knew he was good and dead, she went out by the fire escape. She walked for blocks and blocks. She said she felt like she could’ve flown, but she walked to where she’d left her car.”

“What did she do with the bag, Suzanne?” Eve asked. “Did she tell you?”

“The bag?”

“With the knife in it.”

“I feel sick.”

“What did she do with the bag?”

Suzanne cringed. “In a recycler.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. While she was walking to her car.”

“Where was her car?”

“I don’t know. Blocks away. Uptown, I think she said. Blocks away from where she killed Ned because the cops weren’t going to look for a street whore so far away. She drove home, and she took a long bath with a glass of cognac, and she slept like a baby.”

Her face gray now, Suzanne looked back at Eve. “I haven’t slept. I don’t think I’ve had an hour’s real sleep since that day. She’d stopped the car. A rest stop off the Turnpike. We were in New Jersey now. I don’t remember how we got there. I wasn’t crying anymore. I got sick. It made her mad, but I couldn’t help it. She let me open the door, and I threw up in the parking lot.

“I’m so tired now.”

“Dallas,” Baxter began, “maybe we should—”

Eve only shook her head to cut him off. “What did Ava do after you were sick?”

“After, she drove away from there, around the back where the big trucks are, and she told me what had to happen next. What I had to do. I said I couldn’t, but she said if I didn’t, she’d do to me what she’d done to Ned, and then she’d do it to my kids. My kids. No one would believe me if I told them. Who did I think I was? I was nobody, and she was an important and respected woman. They’d lock me up if I tried to tell them, unless she killed me first. She knew where my kids went to school, where they played, where they slept. I’d better remember that.”

There was a dreamy quality in Suzanne’s voice now, as if the reliving of it had put her into a trance.

“And I was better off, she said. Couldn’t I see how much better off I was now? What she’d done for me? She said I had to wait. A couple of months would be best. She would get me a remote, and the passcode. She would explain exactly what I had to do and how I had to do it. She gave me a ’link. I wasn’t to use it for anything. She would contact me on it when it was time. And she’d be watching me. And my kids. She told me what I was going to do, how easy it would be. If I messed it up, she had the recording, and she’d send it to the police. Or maybe I’d just have a tragic accident one day, me and the kids. She told me I should be grateful. She’d given me a fresh start. Now I had to pay for it. I had to stick to my part of the deal.”