Celebrity in Death (41 page)

For form, Eve scowled. “This isn’t about media scoops and ratings, Nadine. It’s about stopping a killer who’s not only slipped the law for forty years, but profited from it.”

“If it wasn’t about the media, you wouldn’t be talking to me, or asking for my help. You need the media on this. You need me, and I’ll play it your way. You just have to play the aftermath mine.”

“Maybe I should let him off you.”

“You like me too much. Plus there’s that whole protect-and-serve thing.” She dug her notebook out of her bag, made a few quick notes. “I’m also going to need your cooperation with the book I’ll be writing on this, and for that I’ll be putting my considerable resource skills into those other murders. And I’ll share.”

She slid the book back in her bag, closed it. Gave Eve her cat smile.

“You know and I know it’s going to take research, resources, and manpower to put together the evidence to build all those cases.”

Eve frowned down at the toe of her boots, as if reluctant. “All right. Deal. But it has to be today. Right after the media conference.”

“Done. We were both going to agree to all this anyway, but it was a nice break in the park.” Nadine got to her feet. “I’ll be at the conference, and I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve set up the interview with Steinburger.”

Eve watched her walk away on her impractical shoes, then got up to find Peabody and make sure she hadn’t been eaten by squirrels.

B
ack at Central, she issued a request—through two uniforms she sent to the studio—for Valerie to come into Central, answer a few more questions.

“We’ll go to her if she balks,” Eve told Peabody, “but I’d rather do it here. Make it formal, a little disturbing—and before the media conference. We’ll let her know we’re making an announcement shortly.”

“And she’ll spread that word at the studio.”

“I wouldn’t want Steinburger to miss it. I want someone on him. We can’t trail him at the studio, but when he leaves, someone’s on him. We need to know if he approaches any of the others. He doesn’t get a chance to add to his kill score.”

“Baxter and Trueheart?”

“Yeah, if they’re not on something hot. Soft clothes. Fill them in. I’ll alert Feeney and EDD about Nadine’s wire, and update the commander.” She checked the time. “And let’s keep on top of the water cops and the divers.”

It didn’t take long. She added a check-and-confirm with Kyung, began to skim the case file, delivered efficiently from California, then smiled at Peabody’s text re Valerie. The publicist was in the house.

A few props never hurt, Eve decided, and gathered some files, tucked them under her arm. She walked out to the bullpen.

“Where did we put her?”

“Interview A,” Peabody told her.

“Let’s do this. Brisk and formal,” she added as they headed toward Interview. “Clarifying. We have this media thing shortly, want to make sure we have all the correct information. And when I go in on her, feel free to look somewhat distressed on her behalf.”

“It’ll be good acting practice for my cameo. Preston just sent me a message. I have a line: ‘It’s the police.’ I could say it like that—like a statement. Or maybe like I’m alarmed. ‘It’s the police!’ Or maybe sort of like a question. ‘It’s the police?’”

“Yeah, that’s a puzzler.”

“Well, I want to do a good job. Maybe with a little hesitation. ‘It’s … the police!’ My family’s completely juiced about this. They’re going to let McNab do it with me, like we’re standing together, and I say it to him. We’re going to be a couple.”

“Of what?”

Eve pushed open the interview room door.

“Ms. Xaviar.” Eve gave Valerie a nod as she called for record on, then read in the particulars. “Thank you for coming in,” she began, then continued before Valerie could respond. “You’ve already been read your rights on this matter. Do you require me to read them to you again?”

“No, but I’m not sure why you asked me to come.”

Eve sat, laid down her files. “Unlike on-screen, actual murder investigations involve a lot of repetition and routine. I want to confirm a few points from your previous statements and make sure we have an accurate record of your version of events.”

“My version?”

“Five people see the same event. Every one of them is going to report it with variations. Nobody sees the same thing the same way, do they?”

“So you’re asking everyone to come in again?”

Eve said nothing, only glanced down as she opened a file.

“Would you like something before we start, Valerie?” Peabody offered a smile in contrast to Eve’s chilly formality.

“No. No. I’d like to get this done. We’re very busy right now.”

“We’re a little busy around here, too.” Eve’s tone could have frozen a fiery pool in hell. “What with investigating a couple of murders, and dealing with the media you and your associates are so fond of.”

“We’re doing another media conference today.” Peabody oozed enthusiasm and naïveté. “We get to announce we have new information and expect an early arrest.”

“Peabody.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant. But Valerie’s in the media business, so she knows how it works. Dallas doesn’t like to show our hand,” Peabody told Valerie, “but the brass wants the buzz.”

“Of course. You’re going to arrest someone? You know who killed K.T.?”

“We’re—”

“Peabody!” This time Eve snapped it out. “We’re not here to discuss confidential and official details of the investigation, nor will those details be given to the media. Whatever buzz the brass wants.”

“I might be able to help. It is my field, and I’d—”

“We’re covered.” Eve took a slim tablet out of the file, swiped it on. “You stated you were seated here during the screen show in Roundtree’s theater on the night of K.T. Harris’s murder. Is this correct?”

“Ah …” Valerie leaned forward, studied the seating chart Eve had created. “Yes. I think so. I was seated toward the back and to the right.”

“To the best of your recollection is the rest of this chart accurate?”

“I really didn’t pay that much attention, but I do remember Marlo and Matthew moved over to this corner, where you have them, and Roundtree was in the front, near you and your husband. Joel was behind me as was Julian. So it looks correct there.”

“And in your statement given the night of the murder you said you didn’t notice anyone leaving the theater during the show.”

“I didn’t.”

“You were seated toward the back, and to the right. Now the area outside the doors had the lights on low, but there were lights on out there. And when the doors opened—as we know they did more than once during the screen show as it is fact that the victim, the killer, Nadine Furst, and Connie Burkette exited the theater—the light from the opening door would angle over your seat. Those doors opened several times, but you didn’t notice?”

“I was, as I said before, doing a little work, which is why I sat in that area. And I may have been a seat over. It’s hard to remember exactly.”

“Which was it? Here?” Eve tapped the screen. “Or here? Or maybe here?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Now you’re not sure.” Eve sat back, eyes cool, nodded. “Yet you seemed sure when you gave your initial statement.”

“I didn’t know the exact seat would be so important.”

“You didn’t know where you were seated,
if you
were seated, if you saw someone leave, if you left yourself, would be important to a murder investigation?”

“I never left that theater.” A trace of panic threaded through her voice. “Julian or Joel would have seen me if I had. They were behind me.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“Yes.”

“But not of where you were seated. You know where two other people and—from previous statements—where the vic sat, but you can’t quite remember where you were.”

“I was here.” Agitated, Valerie slapped her finger on the tablet.

“Now you’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“You were seated here, but never noticed the light from the opening door.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“It’s funny, because I ran a reconstruction and putting myself in this seat—the seat you’re now sure you used—I sure as hell noticed the brief wash of light from the door.”

“Obviously you’re more observant than I, or more sensitive to a change in light.”

“That must be it. It couldn’t be that you’re lying.”

Valerie tried for insulted, but that panic slipped through again. “I don’t have any reason to lie.”

“You have your career. I bet it’s important to you. Moving on, you’ve also stated that you were at Joel Steinburger’s New York residence at the time of A. A. Asner’s murder. Are you sure about that?”

“Of course.”

“Just checking. Neither you nor Mr. Steinburger left the residence at any time that evening, that night, and through to the morning?”

“No.”

“You’re sure because you spent every minute of that time together.”

“We worked late, until after midnight—nearly one
A.M.,
trying to get ahead of the story, anticipate the angles. I stayed in the guest quarters as it was so late when we finished, and we agreed to put in some time in the morning.”

“How much do you get paid for that kind of overtime?”

“Excuse me?”

“I wonder what you get for putting in all that time.”

“My job requires flexibility and often entails long and odd hours. I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“Cops are nosy. I’m nosy, so I wonder if the time you put in explains the fifty thousand Mr. Steinburger transferred to your account yesterday morning.”

Agitation switched to shock—covered fairly well, Eve thought, with sputtering outrage. “You looked into my personal finances? What right do you have to—”

“Every. This is murder. What did you do for fifty large, Valerie?”

“My job! Joel values exceptional work, which I provide. Handling the fallout from K.T.’s death has involved a lot of extra time, extra hours, and some innovation. He gave me a bonus.”

“But you said your job requires flexibility and often entails long hours.”

“It does.”

“And how often are you given a fifty-thousand-dollar bonus for doing your job? Because unless it was in cash, and went unreported, which would mean you didn’t pay taxes on it, I didn’t see anything comparable in the last two years.”

“I can only speculate Joel felt these circumstances, and my handling of them, warranted the bonus.” She looked away, and her throat worked. “You’d have to ask him.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. Are you sleeping with him again, Valerie?”

“I am not! I don’t have to sleep with an employer to advance my career.”

“But you had sex with him before.”

“It had nothing to do with career advancement. It was just a momentary weakness on both our parts. We started and ended it before we came to the New York studios.”

“Good for you. Speaking of advances, I just got this wild hair and checked with the hotel. You’ve moved up to a VIP suite. That’s a major upgrade from a standard room.”

“I needed the extra space, and the upgrade for the work.”

“And the—what do they call it—maître d’étage service, the personal gym and private elevator.”

“I needed a larger work space,” Valerie said stubbornly now. “The studio approved it.”

“You know what fancy digs and a fistful of cash says to me, Peabody?”

“Well …”

“It says bribe. Cops are suspicious and cynical as well as nosy.”

“I haven’t done anything but my job. I came in here voluntarily, but I don’t have to stay and be insulted.”

“I wonder what it’s like running media interference for people who make, what? Easily ten times what you do, more for some of them. For people who get all the perks as a matter of course, get all the attention, while you labor away behind the scenes, scrambling to show them all off in the best light. Then have to spin or cover up their fuckups, their stupidity, their indulgences. Their sins, their crimes.”

“I do what I do, and I’m good at it. I work for one of the most successful and prestigious studios in the industry. I have a staff of six who report to
me,
and I report directly to one of the icons of our business.”

“Did the icon ask you to lie for him, Valerie? Or for someone else?”

“I’ve given you my statement. I don’t have anything else to say.”

“That’s a ‘no comment’? You’re free to go, but I think we’re going to talk again. Really soon. Right now I have a media conference to prep for. Any advice?”

“Sarcastic bitchiness doesn’t go over well on camera.”

Eve smiled to herself as Valerie swept out of the room. “Interview end. I’m a sarcastic bitch.”

“No comment,” Peabody replied.

“And she’s a scared liar who doesn’t know whether to shit or spin.
She’ll be dumping this on Steinburger asap. In fact, I’ll wager EDD’s going to get an earful before she gets all the way out of the building.”