Witness in Death

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"Lieutenant Dallas." Carly lowered her arms slowly, let one hand rest on her cocked hip. "What an irritating surprise to see you again."

"Oh, Carly, do stop playing the diva," Eliza said irritably. "You're not nearly old enough to pull it off. Lieutenant, I hope you're here to tell us you've made the arrest you promised. You seemed very confident in your interview on Channel 75."

"An arrest is imminent."

"Not Kenneth." Areena pressed a hand to her heart.

"If it was Kenneth," Eliza put in, "I hope we can all be counted on to behave decently and stand behind him. I intend to." She brought her shoulders back, spoke grandly. "I don't desert my friends."

"That's admirable, Ms. Rothchild." Eve slipped her hands in her pocket, fingered the remote. "But Kenneth Stiles is no longer the primary suspect in this investigation. Richard Draco's killer is on this stage."

Even as she spoke, the houselights dimmed, the stage lights glowed. And the courtroom set slid into view. A long-bladed knife lay on the evidence table. Eve crossed to it, picked it up to weigh it in her hand.

"The murder took place on this stage. And so will the arrest."

"Well, we'll have to give you points for the dramatic twist, Lieutenant." Carly breezed forward, arranged herself languidly in the witness chair. "Please go on. We're all riveted."

"Cut it out, Carly. It had to be Kenneth." Michael sent Areena an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Areena, but it had to be. He tried to run, and then he tried to… well, escape permanently. If he wasn't guilty, why would he have done all that?"

"To protect someone," Eve said. "It's a recurring theme here." She touched the tip of the knife with her finger, then set it down again. "Miss Plimsoll fussing over Sir Wilfred to protect his health, no matter how many different ways he insults or evades her."

"Really, Lieutenant, that's a character." Eliza puffed up like a bird who'd just had its tail feathers plucked. "Surely you're not suggesting that I had anything to do with this."

"It's all about character." Eve studied Eliza's outraged face. "Sir Wilfred, protecting his client, risking his health, only to learn in the end he's freed a murderer. Leonard Vole, pretending to defend his beloved wife, helping her to escape a crumbling Germany years before, only to use her again and again to protect himself. And Christine." Eve shifted her gaze to Areena. "Risking her reputation, sacrificing her freedom to cover for him. Out of love that was thrown back in her face in the crudest and most careless of ways when she had served her purpose."

"We know the play," Carly said with a dainty yawn. "I suppose you'll say that while only the understudy, Michael was ranged with Richard, that is, Vole."

"That's right. And with Draco out of the way, he becomes Vole. What better way to right an old wrong, to avenge his mother's honor?"

"Just a minute. That's enough. I've had enough of this. I don't have to take that sort of thing from you." Michael's fists bunched at his sides as he took one threatening step toward Eve.

"Michael." Roarke's voice was quiet. He shifted so that he blocked Michael's reckless advance, and the actor came face-to-face with iced violence. "I could hurt you in ways you can't possibly imagine."

"Roarke," Eve would have cursed him for the interference, but it would have changed the mood.

"Step back, Michael," Carly advised, and only the grip of her hand on the chair indicated her concern. "You'll only embarrass yourself. You're running through our happy troupe rather quickly, Lieutenant."

Carly crossed her legs, all but purring to shift the attention to herself. "But you haven't touched on me or my character counterpart. I don't believe Diana was protecting anyone."

"She would have." Eve turned, walked slowly to the witness chair. "Wouldn't she have seen that, after it all came tumbling down? That she would have followed after Christine, being used, being exploited, then being cast off when he looked for fresher prey? I think she would have hated him for that. Hated him," Eve repeated, resting her hands on the arms of the chair, leaning down. "For spoiling her party, her pretty dreams, for making her see what a fool she'd been to fall for something despicable, disgusting."

The pulse began to hammer in Carly's throat. "You're giving the character more depth than she deserves."

"I don't think so. I think Vole underestimated her. People, particularly men, often underestimate beautiful women. They don't look past the surface. He didn't know you, did he? Didn't know what kind of strength and passion and purpose lives inside you."

A spotlight flashed on, bathed Carly in a cool, white glow.

"You don't frighten me, Lieutenant."

"No, you don't scare easy. And when someone bruises you, you hit back. Harder. I have to respect that. He thought he could toss you aside, like an LC after the hour's up. He thought he could humiliate you in public, right here, on this stage, in front of the cast and crew. So they'd look at you with scorn or pity. You wouldn't, couldn't swallow that. He had to pay for that."

"Stop hounding her." Michael gripped the edge of the evidence table. "Leave her alone. You know what she's been through."

"She's just grasping at straws." Her mouth was dust dry, but Carly managed to keep her voice level.

"Men don't toss you aside, do they, Carly?" Eve glanced back at Michael. "That's not allowed. Not tolerated. It was easy to plan it, really. Just step by step. And it was so beautifully tailored to suit. He would die right here, almost at your feet."

"I want a lawyer."

"You can have a team of them." Eve stepped back, wandered to the evidence table, tapped a finger on the handle of the knife. "It was easy to get the knife out of the kitchen. Who notices a missing knife where there are so many? You knew the pace of the play, how much time between a change of sets. Even if someone saw you, it wouldn't matter. You belonged here, like part of the scenery or an important prop. Slip the dummy knife up your sleeve, set the murder weapon down, and walk away.

"Was it hard to wait?" She turned the knife in her hand so that it caught the lights, shot glints. "To say your lines, to listen to others, while in your head you could see that last scene play, the way the knife would drive into him, the shock on his face, when he was finally punished for what he did to you."

"It's ridiculous, and you know it. You can't prove any of it because it's not true. You're just going to end up looking like a fool."

"I'll risk it. Carly Landsdowne, you're under arrest for the murders of Richard Draco and Linus Quim. You have the right to remain silent," she continued as Peabody came out, moving toward Carly. "You have the right to an attorney and/or the representative of your choice. You have – "

"Get away from her!" The shout came as Peabody prepared to snap restraints over Carly's wrist. "Don't you dare touch her. She's done nothing!"

Areena shoved Michael aside, rushed to the evidence table. Her face was wild with fury as she grabbed up the knife. "You won't touch her. You won't do this. Damn you to hell."

She whirled on Eve. "She didn't kill Richard. I did. I only wish I'd done it years ago, before he ever laid his filthy hands on her."

"I know." Eve walked to her, eyes locked, and took the harmless knife out of Areena's hand. "I know it. Anja."

"Anja? Oh God. My God." Carly crossed her arms over her breasts, rocked.

"Peabody, move these people out of here. Carly, sit down. There's a story you need to hear."

"Let her go." Areena's voice was frantic as she ranged herself between Eve and Carly. "I'll tell you everything. Haven't you put her through enough? I waive my rights. I understand them and I waive them. Now let her go."

"You." Carly's eyes seemed to burn in her face. "You and Richard."

"I'm sorry. So sorry."

"You knew." Bracing herself, Carly got to her feet. "You knew all along. And did nothing when he…"

"No. Oh, Carly, you can't think that I'd have stood aside. Yes, I knew. When I saw you, when you were cast and I realized you were… who you were, I went to him. You're so much what he coveted. Young and beautiful and fresh. I told him who you were so that he wouldn't touch you in that way. That was my mistake."

She closed her eyes, took the weight. "I'll never know if he would have looked elsewhere for his pleasure. I thought I was protecting you, and instead… Instead, he seduced you, knowing it. Knowing it. You weren't to blame. You were never to blame."

"He knew." Carly pressed a hand to her midriff. "You both knew."

"When I found out what he'd done, what he was doing, I confronted him. We argued. Bitterly. I threatened him, threatened to expose him, to go to the press with the story. I couldn't have, of course, I couldn't have because of what it would do to you. He believed me, at least initially, and broke it off with you. He was cruel to you because he knew it would hurt me."

"How did you know me?"

"Carly, I…" Areena trailed off, shook her head. "I never interfered with your life. I had no right to. But I was kept informed."

"Why did you care?" Carly demanded. "I was nothing but your mistake."

"No. No. You were a gift, one I couldn't keep. I gave that gift to your parents because I knew they would cherish you. They would protect you. As I tried to," she said wearily. "I would never have told you, Carly. Never. If there'd been a choice. But I can't let them accuse you, can't let them blame you for what I did."

She turned back to Eve. "You had no right to put her through this."

"We've all got a job to do."

"Is that what you call this?" Carly gasped. "To find out which one of us exterminated a roach, and why. Well, you've done it. I wonder how you sleep at night. I want to go." She began to weep. "I don't want to be here anymore. I want to go."

"Dr. Mira?"

"Yes." Mira walked onto the set, slipped an arm around Carly. "Come now, Carly. Come with me."

"I'm dead inside."

"No, only numb. You need to rest a little." Mira sent Eve a long, quiet look, then guided Carly away.

"Look what you've done to her. You're no better than Richard. Abusing her, exploiting her. Do you know the nightmares that will haunt her? Scream through her head?" Eyes grim, Areena faced Eve. "I would have spared her from that. I could have spared her from that."

"You killed him after he'd stopped abusing her. Why did you wait until it was over?"

"Because it wasn't over." Areena sighed, gave into her trembling legs, and sat. "He came to see me a few days before we opened. He'd been using. He was always more vile when he was using. He threatened to take her back. If I wanted him to keep his distance, I'd have to take her place. So I did. It was only sex, it meant nothing. Nothing."

But her hand shook as she dug into her purse, found a cigarette. "I should have pretended to be hurt, outraged, terrified. Those emotions would have stimulated him, satisfied him. I could have made him believe it. Instead, I showed disgust and disinterest. He retaliated by suggesting a threesome, himself, me and Carly, after opening night. He reveled in telling me everything he'd done to her, with her. How he'd enjoyed it, how exciting it had been for him to pound himself into her, knowing she was his blood, his daughter. He was a monster, and I executed him."

She got to her feet. "I have no remorse, I have no regret. I could have killed him that night when he stood in my rooms, bragging about being man enough to take on both mother and daughter at once."

There was a skim of sickness coating Eve's throat. "Why didn't you?"

"I wanted to be sure. And I wanted, somehow, for it to be just. And…" For the first time she smiled. "I wanted to get away with it. I thought I would. I thought I had."

When she began to fight with her lighter, Roarke crossed to her, took it from her chilly hands. Her eyes met his over the flame. "Thank you."

He laid the lighter back in her palm, gently closed her fingers around it. "You're welcome."

With her eyes closed, Areena took her first deep drag. "Of all my addictions, this is the one I've never been able to beat." She let out a sigh. "I've done many unattractive things in my life, Lieutenant. I've had my bouts of selfishness, of self-pity. But, I don't use people I care about. I wouldn't have let Kenneth be arrested. I would've found a way around that. But who would suspect quiet, obliging Areena of cold-blooded murder? Such a public one."

"That was your cover, doing it right here, onstage."

"Yes, surely I wouldn't commit murder in front of thousands of witnesses. I saw myself being eliminated as a suspect right away. And naively, I believed none of the others, being innocent, would face more than the inconvenience of questioning."

She managed a little laugh. "And knowing them, I was certain they'd find the process diverting. Frankly, Lieutenant, I didn't think any investigator looking into Richard's life to solve his death would work overly hard on the case once they discovered the kind of man he was. I underestimated you, even as Richard underestimated me."

"Until the moment you put the knife in him. Then he stopped underestimating you."

"That's right. The look in his eyes, the dawning of understanding, was worth every moment of planning. Of fear. It happened very much as you'd said before, only with me in the role you'd cast Carly in."

She could replay it in her head, scene by scene, move by move. Her own intimate play. "I simply took a knife from the kitchen one day when Eliza and I went down to ask for sandwiches. I kept it in my dressing room until opening night. Until the change of scene. There were several of us moving from point to point backstage, cast and crew. I exchanged the knives and added the touch of planting the prop in my own dressing room when my dresser's back was turned. I planted it right under her very loyal nose. Another clever twist, I thought at the time."

"It might have worked. It nearly did."

"Nearly. Why nearly, Lieutenant?"

"Anja Carvell."

"Ah. A name from the past. Do you know where it comes from?"

"No. I've wondered."

"A small, insignificant role in a small insignificant play that opened and closed on the same night in a backwater town in Canada. It was never put on my credits nor on Kenneth's. But it's where we met. And I realized some years later, it was where he fell in love with me. I only wish I'd been wise enough to love him back. He would call me Anja from time to time, a kind of private connection between that very young girl and that very young man who both wanted to be great actors."

"You used it when you placed her."

"Yes, for sentiment. And to protect her, I thought, should she ever try to find her birth mother. I had given her to good people. The Landsdownes are very good people. Kind, loving. I wanted what was best for her. I made certain she got it."

Yes, Eve thought, you made certain. Dead certain. "You could have let go then. Why didn't you let go?"

"Do you think because I only saw her once, because I only held her once, that I don't love her?" Areena's voice rose. Rang. "I'm not her mother. I'm fully aware of that. But there hasn't been a day in twenty-four years that I haven't thought of her."

She stopped herself, seemed to draw in. "But I'm circling the point. I was persuasive as Anja. I know it."

"Yes, very. I didn't recognize you, not physically. Emotions, Areena. Who had the strongest motive, not only to kill him, but to make him pay in front of an audience? To end his life, just as Vole's was ended? Who had been the most betrayed, the most used? Once I eliminated Carly, there was one answer: Anja Carvell."

"If you'd eliminated Carly, why did you put her through that horror?"

"Anja Carvell," Eve went on, ignoring the question. "She struck me as a strong, self-possessed, and very direct woman. But how did she switch the knives? I imagine she'd have found a way, and still it didn't quite work. For one simple reason. She would have needed to hold the knife herself, to strike the blow for the child she'd given up to protect."

"Yes, you're right. I would have left it to no one else."

"When I thought of you and her, I saw it. You changed your look, your voice, your attitude. But there are things you didn't change, or couldn't. There," Eve said, gesturing. "You reach up as you're doing now, toying with a necklace – or as Anja, with the top button of your dress – when you're formulating what you're going to say and how best to say it."

"Such a small thing."

"There are others. They add up. You can change the color, even the shape of your eyes, but not the look in them when your temper spikes or grief grabs you. You couldn't hide the purpose in them, for that one moment, when you locked eyes with Richard onstage. That instant before you killed him. I only had to think of Anja and you to realize you were one person."

"So you outwitted me." Areena got to her feet. "You've solved the puzzle and upheld what you see as justice. Brava, Lieutenant. I imagine you'll sleep the sleep of the righteous tonight."

Eve kept her eyes locked on Areena's. "Peabody, escort Ms. Mansfield to the black-and-white unit waiting outside."

"Yes, sir. Ms. Mansfield?"

"Eve." Roarke murmured it as their footsteps echoed offstage.

She shook her head, knowing she had to hold him off, hold herself together. "Feeney, do we have the full record?"

"Clear as a bell, Dallas, and fully admissible. She waived her rights."

"We're done here. Close it up."

"Will do. Meet you at Central. Good job. Damn good job."

"Yeah." She squeezed her eyes shut as Roarke laid a hand on her shoulder. "Thanks for the help. We got through it. No muss, no fuss."

She resisted when he tried to turn her to face him. He simply stepped around her. "Don't do this."

"I'm fine. I have to go in, deal with this."

"I'll go with you." He tightened his grip when she started to shake her head. "Eve, do you think I would leave you alone at such a time?"

"I said I'm fine."

"Liar."

She gave up, gave in, let him hold her. "I looked at her, I looked in her eyes and I wondered how I would have felt, what it would have been like to have someone care so much about me, someone who'd have done anything to save me from him. And then, looking at her, I trapped her using the thing she loved most."

"No. You saved the thing she loved most. We both know that."

"Did I? No, that's Mira's job." She drew a deep breath. "I want to close this thing. I need to make it over."

Paperwork could be a soothing routine. She used it, writing her report with the dispassionate and brutal efficiency required. She filed it, adding all the evidence gathered.

"Lieutenant?"

"Shift's nearly over, Peabody. Go home."

"I will. I wanted you to know Mansfield's finished in booking. She's asked to see you."

"All right. Set it up, Interview One, if available. Then take off."

"Happy to."

Eve turned in her chair to where Roarke stood, looking at her miserable view. "Sorry. I have to do this. Why don't you go home?"

"I'll wait."

She said nothing, only rose and made her way down to Interview.

Areena was already there, sitting quietly at the small table. She quirked her lips in a sneer. "I can't say I think much of the wardrobe choices in this place." She fingered the collarless top of the dull gray state issue.

"We've got to get a new designer. Record on – "

"Is that necessary?"

"Yes, I'm required to put any conversations with you on record. For your protection and mine. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, in Interview One with Mansfield, Areena, at her request. Ms. Mansfield, you've been given your rights, do you choose to implement any or all of them at this time?"

"No, I have something to say to you. You knew it was me," she said, leaning forward. "You were perfectly aware it was me, before we came into the theater today."

"We've been over this ground."

"I'm asking you if you had any proof before my confession?"

"What difference does it make? I have your confession."

"For my own curiosity. The attorney I intend to hire will be entitled to that information, which will be relayed to me. Save us the middleman."

"All right. Acting on my suppositions as regarded Anja Carvell, I ordered voice print analyses between your statements and hers. Though you had altered your tone, your rhythm, effectively disguising your voice to the naked ear, the voice prints were an exact match. As fingerprints are. Several of yours were found in the room registered to Carvell. Strands of hair, both from a synthetic wig matching the shade worn by Carvell and those of your shade, and your DNA, were found in the aforementioned suite. Both were also found, on a warranted sweep of your penthouse in the same hotel."

"I see. I should have researched police procedure. I was careless."

"No, you weren't. You were human, which makes it impossible to think of everything."

"You managed it." Areena leaned back now, a considering look in her eye as she studied Eve. "You had enough evidence to bring me in here for questioning, to throw my deception in my face, use my relationship with Richard, with Carly, to break me. Instead, you chose to do so at the theater. In front of Carly."

"You might not have broken here. I banked on it working the other way."

"No, you'd have broken me. We both know it. I couldn't stand against you. You did it in front of Carly for a very specific reason. You did it for her."

"I don't know what you're talking about, and I'm off shift."

Before she could rise, Areena gripped her hand. "You did it for her. She has to live with knowing what the father who made her was capable of. What he did to her. Knowing what he was, and that what he was runs inside her could twist her, scar her."

"She'll live with it." Every day, Eve thought. Every night.

"Yes, she will. But you made sure she saw more than that. You showed her that the other part who made her would protect her at all costs. Would sacrifice her own freedom to insure hers. Could love her that much. You showed her that there's decency, loyalty, and strength of purpose in her blood. One day, when she's settled, when she heals, she'll realize that. She may think of me kindly. When she realizes that, Lieutenant Dallas, I hope she has the courage to thank you as I'm thanking you now."

She closed her eyes tightly, inhaled deeply. "Can I have some water, please?"

Eve walked over, drew a cup. "You'll both pay for what he did. There's no way to stop that."

"I know." Areena sipped, cooled her throat. "But she's young and strong. She'll find a way to beat it back."

"She'll have help. Dr. Mira will counsel her. She's the best."

"I appreciate knowing that. I was so proud of the way she faced you down today. She's tough. And she's lovely, isn't she?"

"Yes, very."

"I couldn't bear what he did to her. Couldn't bear thinking he might do so again." Tears rose, were battled back.

Fragile? Eve thought. Not in this lifetime.

"With Quim," Areena continued, "it was difficult for me. I was afraid. But he was an ugly little man, and I'd had my fill of ugly little men. Lieutenant?"

"Yes."

"Will you, when I'm in prison, will it be possible to get an update on Carly's state of mind, on how she is? Nothing intrusive. Just if there's a way I could be told she's all right."

"I'll see what I can do." Eve hesitated, swore. "Record off," she ordered, and blanked out the sound and visual to observation. "Get a lawyer who knows how to spin the media, not just one who's tough in court. Better, get one of each. You want to sway public opinion. You want people to hear the story, all of it, and feel sympathy for you, disgust for Draco. Stop waiving your damn rights, and don't talk to me again, or any other cop, without your attorney present."

Amused, Areena lifted her eyebrows. "Do you save everyone, Lieutenant?"

"Shut up and listen. Go for diminished capacity and extreme emotional distress. Even with the premeditation, it's not much of a stretch. You killed the man abusing your daughter, and a blackmailer. If it's played that way, it's going to generate a lot of media in your favor." And she could tap Nadine to see that it swung that way. "The DA's not going to want the mess of a long, public trial with mothers picketing outside the courthouse and city hall. And they will. He'll offer you a deal. You may spend time in a cage, but if you're lucky, you'll get a hefty stretch of home incarceration with a bracelet, and another chunk of severe parole."

"Why are you doing this for me?"

"Isn't there some saying about looking gift horses in the mouth?"

"Yes. Very true." Areena got to her feet. "I wish, well obviously, I wish we'd met under different circumstances." She held out her hand. "Good-bye, Lieutenant."

Eve clasped her hand, let the grip hold.

When she walked back into her office, Roarke was there. She picked up her jacket, her bag. "What do you say we get the hell out of here?"

"I like the idea." But he caught her hand, ran his gaze over her face. "You look lighter, Lieutenant."

"I am. Considerably."

"And Areena?"

"She's a hell of a woman. It's weird." As she puzzled it, she sat on the edge of the desk. "It's the first time in eleven years on the job I've ever come across a killer I admire, and a victim I couldn't…"

"Care about," Roarke finished.

"I'm not supposed to care one way or the other. I'm just supposed to do the job."

"But you do care, Lieutenant. Brutally, you care. And this time you ran up against someone you were obliged to stand for who deserved exactly what he got."

"Murder's never deserved," she said, then made a small sound of impatience. "Hell with it. Justice was served in a courtroom. It might have been onstage, but it wasn't make-believe. There was no pretense when Areena Mansfield picked up that knife and rammed it into the heart Richard Draco didn't have. And when she took that step, that stand, justice was served."

"She'll have the jury eating out of her hand. Before it's over, they'll canonize her rather than convicting her. You know that."

"Yeah. Hell, I'm counting on that. You know what I figured out, pal?"

"Tell me."

"You can't go back. Can't fix what broke. But you can go forward. And every step matters. Every one makes a difference." She pushed away from the desk, cupped his face in her hands. "From where I'm standing, you're the best step I ever took."

"Then let's take the next, and go home."

She walked out with him, and because it fit the mood, took his hand in hers. She would sleep that night. She would sleep clean.