Innocent In Death

13

WHEN ALLIKA REVIVED, SHE CAREENED DIRECTLY into hysteria. The sobbing, the shaking, the wild eyes could have been guilt, a good act, or shock. Eve decided to reserve judgment when the au pair rushed in, carting market bags.

“What is it? What’s happened. Oh, God, is it Rayleen?”

“Kid’s fine.” Eve waited while Cora dumped the bags on the floor and hurried to Allika’s side. “Calm her down. Tranq her if you have to. We’ll finish the interview later.”

“Mr. Straffo?”

“He’s fine, too, as far as I know. Calm her down, then come back. I’ve got a couple of questions for you.”

“All right then, shh, shh, darling.” In the way of women who are natural caregivers, Cora tuned a voice to a soft song. “Come on with Cora now, won’t you? Everything’s going to be all right.”

“It’s all falling apart,” Allika sobbed as Cora drew her up. “He’s dead. My God, he’s dead.”

Cora’s gaze zipped to Eve’s. “Another teacher,” Eve told her.

“Oh, sweet Jesus. Yes, sweetheart, come and lie down awhile.”

Cora led her toward the elevator rather than the staircase. She had her arm around Allika when the doors closed, bearing the other woman’s weight as though she weighed no more than a child.

“Contact Mosebly, Peabody,” Eve said with her eyes trained on the second floor. “I want her to come down to Central. Make it pleasant, apologetic. You know how to play it.”

“Just a few more questions, better for everyone if we talk away from the school. Got it.”

As Peabody got out her pocket ’link, Eve walked casually up the stairs. Just checking on a possible wit, possible suspect, she thought. Perfectly understandable, perfectly acceptable. Perfectly legal.

And if she took her time, looking into the other rooms from their doorways, it wasn’t a violation.

She scanned what she assumed was Straffo’s home office. Spacious, slick, touches of pricey chocolate-brown leather. Good view, with privacy screens engaged. Small sofa, not what a guy would stretch out on for a nap. All business, then.

Across from it was what she supposed would be called Allika’s sitting room. There was a small desk with dramatically curved legs, a matching chair. Pastels, she noted. Pinks and greens and a pretty little fireplace. On the mantel were framed photos. She could see several of the kid, the family, one of husband and wife-younger, softer-beaming out. But there was no photo of a little boy.

The doomed son.

Privacy screens again, but with soft green drapes flanking them. A little footstool, a fancy tea set, flowers.

In the room beyond that was what looked like a playroom. Kiddie domain, Eve thought. Toys, a scaled-down desk, lots of bright colors, so heavy on the candy pink it made Eve’s teeth ache.

The kid rated her own comp, Eve noted, her own screen and entertainment center, her own tea set, with table and chairs. The desk area had been fashioned like an office-for the school generation. Disc files, art supplies, which had likely been used to create some of the pictures on the wall.

The room adjoined, Eve saw through an open door, a large cushy bedroom. Very, very girlie, very, very frothy with its pink and white theme, its collection of dolls, doll furniture.

Which struck Eve as a bit creepy. What did dolls need with chairs, beds, tables? Unless they came to life in the dead, dead of night. And used them.

Yeah, definitely creepy.

She moved on, past the door Cora had shut. Eve could hear the woman murmuring to Allika, crooning to her.

She found a guest room that would have passed muster at a five-star hotel.

That made three bedrooms, three baths-no doubt the master bedroom claimed its own-playroom, sitting room, office on the second floor.

She glanced up, wishing she had an excuse to wander up to the top level.

Instead, she waited until Cora slipped out of the master bedroom. Cora put a finger to her lips as she eased the door shut.

“No soundproofing,” she whispered, and gestured for Eve to follow her to the steps leading down.

“Why no soundproofing in a place like this?”

“Missus wouldn’t have it, I’m told. She wants to be able to hear Rayleen in the night. They had a son, you know, and he died.”

“Yeah, I know about that.”

“I gave her a tranquilizer as you said. She should sleep a couple of hours. I told her I’d call her husband, but she said I mustn’t, and cried all the harder. I don’t know what I should do.”

“How’s it been between the Straffos the last day or two?”

“Ah, well,” Cora pushed at her bright hair. “She’s been nervy. I guess since you’re the police it’s not talking out of school to say she didn’t like him lawyering for that teacher who’d been arrested. They had some words about it yesterday. She was upset, no doubt, and demanded what he’d do if this man was to be charged with Mr. Foster’s murder. Mister, he said it wasn’t her place to interfere with his profession.

“No soundproofing,” Cora added with a wry smile. “It’s the first I’ve heard them argue in that way since I came here. I went up to distract Rayleen from it, but she was in her playroom at her desk doing her schoolwork as she does before family dinner each day. Had her music on.” Cora tapped her ears. “The headset. So she’d have been spared hearing them fight.”

“And this morning?”

“Tense. As it was during dinner last night as well. But there was no talk of it while Rayleen and I were about.” Cora glanced at the bags she’d dropped when she’d come in. “Would you mind if I took these back to the kitchen, put things away?”

“No. Fine.” Eve signaled Peabody with a glance, and picked up one of the bags herself. “I’ll take this one.”

Dining room through archway, she noted-lots of silver and black, with a wide terrace beyond. The kitchen-same color scheme with splashes of electric blue-through the door to the right.

“Mrs. Straffo took Rayleen to school today,” Eve began, and set the bag on a wide, stainless work counter.

“Thanks for that. She did, yes.” Cora began to put supplies away in glossy black cupboards or the huge silver fridge. “One of them will, now and then. Though it’s always planned out before. They’re considerate that way, letting me know if I’ll have a bit of time to myself. But the missus told me this morning, just after the mister left.”

She closed the last cupboard door. “Can I get you or your partner something, Lieutenant? Some tea perhaps.”

“No, thanks.”

“If you wouldn’t mind, I’m going to get myself a cup. I’m that upset. Another teacher dead, you said. And things come in threes, such things do.” As she programmed the tea, she sent Eve a sheepish smile. “Superstition, I know. But still. Oh, God, Rayleen. Should I go get her from school? But I shouldn’t leave the missus.”

“Her father was going to be contacted.”

“All right then, sure that’s best.” She took out the tea, sighed. “What a state of affairs.”

“How was Mrs. Straffo when she came back from walking Rayleen to school?”

“She looked poorly, and said she felt that way as well.” Cora slid onto a stool at a short eating bar to drink her tea. “She gave me some errands to run, and said she wanted the flat on privacy so she could sleep undisturbed. I made her some tea, then went out for the errands.”

“You run a lot of errands for her?”

“Oh, indeed. It’s part of my position. I don’t mean it to sound she works me half to death, for she doesn’t.”

Eve thought of the elaborate playroom/bedroom upstairs. “And you spend a lot of time with Rayleen.”

“I do, yes, and she’s a pleasure. Most of the time,” Cora said with a laugh. “But the missus doesn’t leave the rearing to me, if you understand me. And some do. They spend considerable time together, this family-work and play. She’s a lovely woman, the missus, and very kind, as is the mister. Still, I have to say, it seems to me the mister shouldn’t have been defending that man if it upset the missus so. And now he’s dead. She told me he was dead when I tucked her in bed. Poor lamb. Her nerves are just shattered by all this.”

When they left the penthouse and Peabody informed Eve that Mosebly had agreed to a follow-up interview at Central, Eve thought she’d see who else’s nerves she could shatter that day.

Her own stretched and threatened to fray when she walked into her bull pen. Several conversations took a hitch-that telling beat of silence-before they continued. Gazes flicked her way, then aside.

Not one smart remark was made about her appearance with Nadine the evening before.

Because that wasn’t the top story, Eve thought as she strode straight into her office, forced herself not to slam the door. The top story was now the lieutenant’s spouse and a stunning blonde.

She programmed coffee, noted she had messages from Nadine, from Mavis, from Mira-from the on-air reporter who’d relayed the gossip piece that morning. And she could fry in everlasting hell, Eve thought.

She ignored the guilt when she ignored Mavis and Nadine, brought up Mira’s.

“Eve, I have your more detailed profile, which I’ve sent to you. I hope, if there’s a personal matter you’d like to speak with me about, you’ll get in touch. I’ll be available.”

“No, I don’t want to speak about it,” Eve mumbled, and shut down the message.

Instead she contacted her commander’s office for permission to give an oral. She’d deal with the written later. Check with Morris, she added as she headed out again. Take another pass through Williams’s apartment. Put Feeney on the electronics.

She knew what to do, how to run the case. How to close it.

It was the rest of her life she didn’t know how to run.

She took the glides up. She may have felt looks aimed her way, but it was better than having them drilled into the back of her head in the confines of the elevators.

Whitney’s admin avoided her eyes altogether. “You can go right in, Lieutenant. He’s expecting you.”

Whitney sat behind his desk of command, big shoulders, big hands. His face was somber, his dark eyes direct. “Lieutenant.”

“Sir. I believe there may be a break in the Foster homicide that connects it to the drowning death of Reed Williams.”

He sat back as she gave her report, let her complete it uninterrupted. “You opted not to bring Allika Straffo in for questioning.”

“Not at this time. We wouldn’t get anything out of her, Commander. I think pressuring Mosebly will give us more juice. While they both have motive and opportunity, it’s easier to see Mosebly helping the vic into the water-or under it. They both had something to lose, but the tone of Straffo’s statement prior to being informed of Williams’s death gives it credence. She could have used the time between the murder-”

“If it was murder.”

“Yes, sir, if it was, she could have used the time to prepare, to plan how she would deal with questioning. I’m still looking at her, but Mosebly fits more cleanly.”

“And Foster?”

“It’s possible Williams poisoned him. Williams doesn’t like being pushed, and we know Foster pushed, at least on one occasion, on the sexual activities. With this new information, that Williams had been sexual with Mosebly, and if we can verify that Foster was aware of that, it turns it. Mosebly had more to lose. Foster’s knowledge compromised her position, and her sense of authority. Nobody likes their private issues made public, particularly by those under their command.”

“True enough.” His eyes remained level with hers. “Use it, and squeeze that juice.”

“Yes, sir.”

“My wife and I watched you on Nadine Furst’s new program last night.” He smiled a little. “You did very well. Your demeanor and your answers were a credit to the department. Chief Tibble has already contacted me this morning to say the same.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

“It’s good public relations, Dallas, and you handled yourself. It can be…difficult to become a public figure, to maintain and handle the inevitable invasions of privacy that go hand in hand with any sort of notoriety. If you feel, at any point, that pull and tug is affecting your work, I hope you’ll speak to me about it.”

“It won’t affect my work.”

He nodded. “I’ll observe the interview with Mosebly, if possible. Otherwise, I’ll review it at the first opportunity. Dismissed.”

She started out.

“Dallas? Gossip is an ugly and insidious form of entertainment. Maybe that’s why people can’t resist it. A good cop knows it has its uses, just as a good cop knows it’s often twisted and pummeled into a different shape for the purpose of the purveyor. You’re a good cop.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Though she knew he’d meant it kindly, the sting of embarrassment plagued her all the way down the glides.

Her pocket ’link signaled a message straight to voice mail before she stepped into the bull pen. She drew it out, saw from the display it was from Roarke.

The urge to simply delete without checking made her feel small and cowardly. She cursed, and played the message.

His face filled her ’link screen, and those lethal blue eyes burned into hers. “Lieutenant. I didn’t want to disturb you. If you can carve out some time today, I’d like some of it. If it’s not possible-or you’re just too bloody stubborn to make it possible-I expect to have your time and attention tonight. At home. I’ll end by saying this much. You piss me off, and still I love you with everything I am. I’d best hear from you, Eve, or I swear I’m going to kick your ass.”

She stuffed the ’link back in her pocket. “We’ll see whose ass gets kicked, pal.”

But her heart had twisted again-in pleasure or in pain, she just didn’t know.

“Hey, Dallas.” Baxter pushed away from his desk, strode after her. “Ah, nice job with Nadine last night.”

“You got something to say to me that applies to a case, Detective?”

“Not really. I just…Listen, Dallas, you don’t want to pay attention to-”

She closed her office door in his face, but not before she saw the look of concerned sympathy on it.

She put another lock on the lid of her emotional box, sat and focused on writing her report until she got the signal that Arnette Mosebly had arrived.

When she walked in, Mosebly scowled. “Really, Lieutenant, I assumed we’d do this in your office.”

“You haven’t seen my office. There’s barely enough room for me in there, much less the three of us. Appreciate you coming in.”

“I want to cooperate, both as a private citizen and as principal of Sarah Child. The sooner all of this is cleared up, closed away, the better for the school.”

“Yeah, the school’s important to you.”

“Of course.”

“Just let me set up. Record on. Interview with Mosebly, Arnette, conducted by Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Peabody, Detective Delia, all present, in the matter of the death of Williams, Reed, on this date.” Eve took her seat. “Ms. Mosebly, are you here of your own volition?”

“I am. As I said, I want to cooperate.”

“And we appreciate it. To ensure your protection, I’m going to read you your rights.”

“My rights? I don’t-”

“It’s routine,” Eve said casually, and ran through them. “Do you understand your rights and obligations in this matter?”

“Of course I do.”

“Okay then. Again, we appreciate your cooperation.”

“Reed’s death is a shock to all of us, a loss for all of us,” she added. “Particularly coming so close on the heels of Craig’s.”

“You refer to Craig Foster, who was murdered in the school you head.”

“Yes. It was, and is, a tragedy.”

“Oh, sorry. You want coffee or anything?”

“I’m fine, but thank you.”

“Both these men,” Eve continued, “Foster and Williams, were known to you.”

“Yes.” Mosebly folded her hands neatly on the table. Her nails were perfectly manicured and painted a pale coral. “They served on the faculty of Sarah Child, where I stand as principal.”

“Are you aware that Reed Williams was questioned in the matter of Foster’s death?”

Her jaw tightened into a stern expression Eve imagined laid little licks of fear in any student’s belly. “We all were, yes. I was aware you’d spoken to him, and that he’d been arrested on other charges.”

“The possession of illegals, specifically two banned substances that are most commonly used in sexual activities.”

“They’re rape drugs.” Mosebly’s mouth went razor thin. “It’s appalling. I respected Reed as a teacher, but this information about his personal life…It’s shocking.”

“You confronted Mr. Williams on this matter.”

“I did.” And here was the pride and authority in the lift of her chin, the chilly hauteur in her eyes. “When he was arrested and charged, I contacted our board of directors to inform them of same. It was agreed that Reed be immediately suspended, that his resignation be called for. If he refused to tender it, I was to begin termination proceedings.”

“Those are complicated and often difficult. And given the circumstances would generate considerable undesirable publicity for the school.”

“Yes. But under the circumstances, there was no choice. The students are our first priority, in every matter.”

Understanding the rhythm, Peabody poured a cup of water and offered it to Mosebly. “Some parents had already pulled a couple of your students,” Peabody commented. “You’ve probably had to reassure plenty of others. It’s happened under your watch. You must have gotten some heat from the board, too.”

“The board’s concerned, of course. But has been very supportive.”

“It would’ve murked it up even more, though, if Williams made a stink. You know how it is, Lieutenant, somebody gets out of line, then tries to take the whole ship down with him.”

“People like that,” Eve agreed, “they don’t want to go down alone, and don’t care what they break on the way. You stated earlier that you’d seen and spoken to Williams this morning, in the pool area.”

“Yes. I was leaving as he came in, and I reminded him-firmly-of his suspension, again asked for his resignation, and explained the consequences should he refuse.”

“How did he respond?”

“That he was confident his lawyer and his union rep would block any termination.” She shook her head in obvious disgust. “I left him there to contact the chairman of our board, and had decided to have Mr. Williams removed by security.”

“You just left him there to paddle around in the pool?” Eve said. “After he’d defied your authority?”

“I could hardly remove him bodily myself.”

“Guess not.” Frowning, Eve flipped through her file. “You don’t mention a shouting match with him.”

“I may have raised my voice, but I’d hardly call our conversation a shouting match.”

“Really? I like to get good and loud when I argue. Especially when I’m being threatened. You didn’t mention that either. That he’d threatened you.”

There was a quick flicker as Mosebly’s gaze slid away from Eve’s. “I don’t recall that he did.”

“You were overheard. He threatened you all right, Arnette. Threatened to make it known that you and he had used that pool for more than swimming laps, had used your office for more than lesson planning. How do you figure the BOD would take that information? How long would you stand as principal when Williams told them you’d had sex with him?”

“This is absurd.” Her throat worked on a swallow, and her neatly folded hands unlinked to press palms against the table. “This is insulting.”

“You know, I had to ask myself how it was that a woman so staunch-so proud of her reputation and the school she served-would allow a scumbag like Williams to stay on staff. I wondered about that. You had to know he’d been dipping.”

“There was never a complaint filed-”

“Oh, let’s can that, Arnette. You knew damn well he was engaging in extracurricular activities. Your watch.” Eve pointed at Mosebly across the table. “Your ship. But you let it go. How could you bring the hammer down on him for it, when he’d already nailed you?”

“Rock and a hard place,” Peabody agreed. “Go to the board on it, and you leave yourself wide open. Say nothing and have to tolerate his behavior. Still, the second option preserves reputations.”

“Yours,” Eve continued, and shifted to sit on the side of the table, crowding Mosebly a little. “The school’s. Did Foster come to you, off record, unofficially, to tell you Williams was harassing Laina Sanchez? Did he ask your advice on how to handle it?”

“I think…I think I should have an attorney present before I answer any more questions.”

“Sure, you can pull that chain. Of course, once you do, things are going to get stickier. How do you think that vaunted BOD is going to react, Peabody, when they find out Principal Mosebly needs a lawyer?”

“Not good.” Peabody pursed her lips, shook her head. “They probably wouldn’t react well.”

“There’s no reason for this.” Mosebly held up a hand. “We’ll straighten this out here and now. There’s no reason to involve a lawyer or the board.”

“No lawyer, Arnette?”

“No. Let’s just…I’ll tell you what I know. Yes, Craig came to me last year. He was upset and concerned. He said Reed had been pressuring Laina for sex, had been making her uncomfortable, and had touched her inappropriately. He said he’d spoken to Reed himself, and warned him, but as he knew Reed had made other inappropriate remarks and approached other staff members, he wanted me to make the warning official.”

“Did you?”

“I called Reed in. Yes. He was unrepentant, but he did stay away from Laina. He was annoyed with Craig. And amused by me as shortly after I came on as principal, he…we had a sexual encounter. It was a terrible mistake, a moment of weakness. It should never have happened, and I swore it wouldn’t happen again.”

“But it did.”

“Last month, during my morning swim. He came in, got into the pool. It just-we were-things simply happened.” She lifted her water, took a long drink. Then she lowered her lashes. “I blamed myself. I was sick at my lack of judgment and control. Now I realize that it happened because he drugged me.”

She looked up again, and Eve saw the lie in her eyes, and the calculation with it. “He gave me the rape drug, and I’m sure he did the first time. I held myself responsible, but I wasn’t. No one is under those conditions.”

“How’d he slip it to you?”

“He…offered me a bottle of water, as I recall.”

“While you were doing laps, you stopped, and while treading water, drank water?”

“I wasn’t in the pool. Obviously I haven’t been clear. I got out when he came in. Though we worked together well enough, I wasn’t comfortable being with him alone in that situation.”

“But comfortable enough to take a bottle of water from him.”

“I was thirsty. Then I felt hot and strange. I can barely remember.” She lowered her head, braced it with her hand. “We were in the water again, and he was…I was…”

Now, like choreography, Mosebly covered her face with both hands and began to weep. “I’ve been so ashamed.”

“Yeah, I bet. Say you play that tune and we dance to it. What happened when you were done being taken advantage of?”

“How can you be so callous?”

“Years of practice and enjoyment. Craig Foster told his wife shortly before his death that he’d seen Williams with someone he shouldn’t have been with. I vote he saw him with you. Foster used the pool routinely.”

Mosebly closed her eyes. Eve wondered what was going on behind those closed lids. “He did see us. After…after Reed laughed and said that Craig really got an eyeful this time. It was horrid.”

“What did you do about it?”

“Nothing. Nothing. I’d hoped Reed was lying. Saying it to make me more afraid, more guilty.”

“Then, pretty damn conveniently from your stand, Craig ends up chugging bad hot chocolate.”

“Convenient!” Mosebly’s shoulders reared back, her eyes went hot. “Craig’s death was a tragedy on a personal level and a potential disaster for the school.”

“Spared your ass, though. With him out of the way, nobody knew about your…indiscretion but Williams. He’s mum on it because he likes his job, the security of it, and the field of play.”

She swung around the back of Mosebly’s chair, leaned in, leaned hard. “But once that job’s threatened, he’d drag you down into the muck with him. You and the school. You’re a strong, healthy woman, Arnette. A strong, healthy swimmer. I bet you could, especially pissed, find the muscle to drown a man.”

“He was alive when I left the pool. He was alive.” She grabbed at her water with a hand that trembled. “Yes, I was angry, but I walked away. He could threaten to tell the board that we’d had sexual intercourse, but how could he prove it? It would be his word against mine. The word of an illegals user who had seduced or attempted to seduce members of the staff. Or the principal whose reputation is unblemished? I had every intention of securing his termination.”

“I believe you. And he’s well and truly terminated, isn’t he?”

“I didn’t kill anyone. I was raped. As a rape victim, I’m entitled to privacy, and to counseling. I’m requesting both at this time. If you make my rape a matter of record, using my name, I can and will sue this department. Unless I’m charged with a crime connected to my rape, you’re required to preserve my anonymity. I want to see a rape counselor. I can’t answer any more questions now. I’m too upset.”

“As per subject’s request, interview end. Peabody.”

“I’ll set up the counselor.” Peabody curled her lip as she started for the door. Then she stopped. “Off record, I can say what I want. You’re a disgrace,” she said to Mosebly. “You’re an insult to every woman who’s ever been forced. One way or the other, we’re going to nail your sorry ass.”

Mosebly lifted her chin as Peabody stomped out. “It’s horrifying how the victim is still forced to bear the guilt of sexual abuse.”

Eve thought of the child she’d been, of the nightmares that had dogged her all of her life. “You’re nobody’s victim.”

Bitch. Lying bitch.” Peabody steamed her way down the corridor. “I want to fry her ass.” When Peabody paused in front of a vending machine, Eve waited for her to kick it. Really hoped she would.

But in the end Peabody dug out credits for a tube of Pepsi, and one of the no-cal variety.

“Why is she a lying bitch?”

“Comeon!”

“No, I’m asking you.”

Peabody sucked on the tube, then leaned back against the machine. “You jolted her when you pinned her on having sex with Williams. She figured she was in the clear there. Then the wheels start turning. Jeez, you could see them. Clack, clack, clack.

“Bitch,” she repeated, and took another gulp. “She used the fact that Williams got busted for having illegals at his residence. Her reactions were all off, Dallas. There’s no rape victim in her. No misplaced shame or guilt, no anger, no fear, no sign whatsoever of personal violation. Body language, tone of voice, facial expressions. It may pass with her famed board of directors, but it’s crap.”

Peabody paused for breath, then blew a long one out before she chugged Diet Pepsi. “Williams was slime, but she’s just another form of slime. A user, a manipulator, a coward, and a hypocrite. She’s bitch slime.”

“What a proud day this is for me.” Eve laid a hand on Peabody’s shoulder. “Yeah, she’s bitch slime. She went into the synchronized swimming round with Williams of her own volition. Tough to prove otherwise seeing as he’s been eliminated from the competition, but we know what we know. But is the bitch slime a murderer?”

“Probably. She had motive and opportunity on both vics.”

“We’d like her to be the killer,” Eve acknowledged, “as righteous bitches to bitch slime, we’d love to take her down for a couple of murders in the first. But we don’t have enough to lock either one. The next thing we have to do is verify our own infallible instincts and prove Williams was murdered.”

“Oh, yeah.” Peabody hunched her shoulders. “I sort of forgot that little step.”

“It’s the little ones that trip you and send your face into the concrete. Let’s go to the morgue.”