Authors: J. D. Robb
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #New York (N.Y.), #Women Sleuths, #Mystery Fiction, #Police Procedural, #Political, #Models (Persons), #Policewomen, #Drug Traffic, #Police - New York (State) - New York, #Dallas; Eve (Fictitious Character), #Clothing Trade, #Models (Persons) - Crimes Against
“They’ll propagate in on planet conditions?”
“Absolutely. The Eden Colony produces vegetation, flora, and plant life for on planet conditions.”
“So you get a few plants,” Eve mused. “A lab, the other chemicals.”
“And you’ve got yourself an illegal with mass appeal. Pay up,” Engrave said with a sour smile, “be strong, be beautiful, be young and sexy. Whoever came up with this formula knew his chemistry and his human nature and understands the beauty of profit.”
“Fatal beauty.”
“Oh sure, four to six years of regular use will take you down. Your nervous system will just give out. But in four to six years, you’ll have a hell of a time, and somebody’s going to make big, fat credits.”
“How do you know so much about this — what, Immortal Blossom — if its cultivation is limited to the Eden Colony?”
“Because I’m the top in my field, I do my homework, and my daughter happens to be head beekeeper on Eden. A licensed lab, such as this, or a horticulture expert can, with limitations, import a specimen.”
“You mean we’ve already got some of these down here, on planet?”
“Mostly replicas, harmless simulations, but some of the genuine article. Regulated — for indoor, controlled use only. Now, I’ve got roses to graft. Take the report and the two samples to your bright boys at Cop Central. If they can’t put it all together from that, they ought to be hanged anyway.”
“You all right, Peabody?” Cautious, Eve kept a firm hand on Peabody’s arm as she opened the car door.
“Yeah, just really relaxed.”
“Too relaxed to drive,” Eve noted. “I was going to have you drop me off at the florist. Plan B, we swing by and get you something to eat to counteract your flower sniffing, then you take the samples and Engrave’s report by the lab.”
“Dallas.” Peabody let her head rest against the seat back. “I really feel wonderful.”
Cautious, Eve eyed her. “You’re not going to kiss me or anything?”
Peabody slanted her a look. “You’re not my type. Anyway, I don’t feel particularly sexy. Just good. If taking that stuff is anything like smelling that flower, people are going to go crazy for it.”
“Yeah. Someone’s already gone crazy enough to kill three people.”
Eve dashed into the florist shop. She had twenty minutes on the outside if she was going to track down her other suspects, badger them, get back to the station to file her report, and make the press conference.
She spotted Roarke loitering near a display of small, flowering trees.
“Our floral consultant is waiting for us.”
“Sorry.” She wondered why anyone would want trees that were less than a foot tall. They made her feel like a freak. “I’m backed up.”
“I just walked in myself. Was Dr. Engrave helpful?”
“And then some. She’s quite a character.” She followed him under a trellis of fragrant vines. “I got a load of Anna-6.”
“Ah, the Anna line. I think it’s going to be a hit.”
“Especially with teenage boys.”
Roarke laughed and urged her through. “Mark, this is my fiancee, Eve Dallas.”
“Ah, yes.” He looked like everyone’s favorite uncle when he extended a hand, and his grip was like an arm wrestler’s on a dare. “Let’s see what we can do for you. Weddings are such a complicated business, and you haven’t left me much time.”
“He didn’t give me a hell of a lot, either.”
Mark laughed, patted his silvery hair. “Sit, relax, have a little tea. I have a great deal to show you.”
She didn’t mind really, Eve decided. She liked flowers. She just hadn’t known there were so damn many of them. And after five minutes, her head began to swim with orchids and lilies, roses and gardenias.
“Simple,” Roarke decided. “Traditional. No simulations.”
“Yes, of course. I have some holograms that may spark some ideas. You’re having it outdoors, so I might suggest arbors, wisteria. Very traditional, and with a lovely, old-fashioned fragrance.”
Eve studied the holograms, tried to envision herself standing under an arbor with Roarke, exchanging vows. Her stomach jittered. “What about petunias?”
Mark blinked. “Petunias?”
“I like petunias. They’re simple, and they don’t pretend to be what they’re not.”
“Yes, certainly. Quite charming. Perhaps backed with a bank of lilies. As to color…”
“Do you carry Immortal Blossoms?” she asked on impulse.
“Immortals.” Mark’s eyes brightened. “They’re quite a specialty item. Difficult to import, of course, but very hardy and spectacular in baskets. I have several simulations.”
“We don’t want simulations,” Eve reminded him.
“I’m afraid they can only be exported in small amounts, and then only to licensed florists and horticulturists. And only for indoor use. As your ceremony is outdoors — “
“Do you sell many?”
“Very rarely, and only to other licensed horticulture experts. I do have something just as lovely — “
“You have records of those sales? Can you get me a list of names? You’re on the net for world delivery, aren’t you?”
“Naturally, but — “
“I need to know everyone who ordered Immortals during the past two years.”
When Mark sent him a baffled look, Roarke ran his tongue around his teeth. “My fiancee is an avid gardener.”
“Yes, I see. It may take a few moments to access. You want everyone.”
“Everyone who placed an order to the Eden Colony for Immortals during the last two years. You can start with the States.”
“If you’ll just wait then, I’ll see what I can do.”
“I like the arbor idea,” Eve announced, springing up when Mark left them. “Don’t you?”
Roarke rose, put his hands on her shoulders. “Why don’t you let me handle the floral arrangements? I’ll surprise you.”
“I’ll owe you one.”
“Indeed you will. You can start paying me back by remembering we’re attending Leonardo’s showing on Friday.”
“I knew that.”
“And by remembering to access your three weeks’ leave for our honeymoon.”
“I thought we said two.”
“We did. Now you owe me one. Would you like to tell me why you have this sudden fascination with a flower from the Eden Colony? Or do I just assume that you found your unknown.”
“It’s the nectar. It does a lot to tie the three homicides together. If I can just get a break.”
“I hope this is what you’re looking for.” Mark came back in with a sheet of paper. “It wasn’t as difficult as I’d feared. There haven’t been many orders for Immortals. Most importers are satisfied with simulations. There are a few problems with the actual specimen.”
“Thank you.” Eve took the page, skimmed down the list. “Gotcha,” she murmured then whirled to Roarke. “I have to go. Buy lots of flowers, boatloads of flowers. Don’t forget the petunias.” She charged out, pulling her communicator. “Peabody.”
“But — but the bouquet. The bridal bouquet.” Confused, Mark turned to Roarke. “She hasn’t chosen.”
Roarke watched her fly out. “I know what she likes,” he said. “Often better than she does.”
“Nice to have you back, Mr. Redford.”
“This is becoming an unfortunate habit, Lieutenant.” Redford took his seat at the interview table. “I’m expected in New Los Angeles in a few hours. I trust you won’t inconvenience me long.”
“I believe in backing up my data. Wouldn’t want anything or anyone to slip through the cracks.”
She glanced toward the corner where Peabody stood, looking her officious best in full uniform. On the other side of the glass, Eve knew, Whitney and the prosecutor watched every move. She nailed it down here, or very likely, she’d be nailed herself.
She took her seat, nodded to the hologram of Redford’s chosen counsel. Obviously, neither Redford nor his attorney believed the situation was serious enough to warrant an in-the-flesh representation. “Counselor, you have the transcript of your client’s statements?”
“I do.” The pinstriped, tough-eyed image folded his manicured hands. “My client has cooperated fully with you and your department, Lieutenant. We agree to this interview only to finalize the matter.”
You agreed to it because you don’t have a choice, she thought, but kept her face bland. “Your cooperation is noted, Mr. Redford. You have stated that you were acquainted with Pandora, that you had a casual and intimate relationship.”
“That’s correct.”
“Were you also involved in any business dealings with her?”
“I produced two direct-to-home screen videos in which Pandora played a part. Another was under consideration.”
“Were these projects successful?”
“Moderately.”
“And outside of these projects, did you have any other business dealings with the deceased?”
“None.” A faint smile touched his mouth. “Other than a small speculative investment.”
“A small speculative investment?”
“She claimed to have been laying groundwork for her own fashion and beauty line. Of course, she needed backers and I was intrigued enough to invest.”
“You gave her money?”
“Yes, over the course of the last year and a half, I invested just over three hundred thousand.”
Found a way to cover your ass, Eve noted, and leaned back in her chair. “What’s the status of this fashion and beauty line you claim the deceased was implementing?”
“It has no status, Lieutenant.” He lifted his hands, let them fall. “I was duped. It wasn’t until after her death that I discovered there was no line, no other backers, no product.”
“I see. You’re a successful producer, a money man. You must have asked her for a prospectus, figures, expenses, projected earnings. Perhaps a sample of the products.”
“No.” His mouth tightened as he looked down at his hands. “I did not.”
“You expect me to believe that you just handed her money for a projected line you had no information on?”
“It’s embarrassing.” He lifted his eyes again. “I have a reputation in the business, and if this information gets out, that reputation would certainly suffer.”
“Lieutenant,” the counselor interrupted. “My client’s reputation is a valuable asset. This asset will be damaged if this data goes beyond the parameters of this investigation. I can and will secure a gag order on this portion of his statement to protect his interests.”
“Go right ahead. This is quite a story, Mr. Redford. Now, do you want to tell me why a man with your reputation, your assets, would commit three hundred thousand dollars to an investment that didn’t exist?”
“Pandora was a persuasive woman, a beautiful one. She was also clever. She skirted around my request for projections and figures. I justified the continued payments because I felt she was an expert in the field.”
“And you didn’t learn of her duplicity until after her death.”
“I made some inquiries — contacted her business agent, her representative.” He puffed out his cheeks and nearly succeeded in looking sheepish. “No one knew anything about the line.”
“When did you make these inquiries?”
He hesitated for a heartbeat. “This afternoon.”
“After our interview? After I questioned you on the payments?”
“That’s correct. I wanted to insure there was no mix-up of any kind before I answered your questions. On advice of counsel, I contacted Pandora’s people and discovered I’d been conned.”
“Your timing is… very skillful. Do you have any hobbies, Mr. Redford?”
“Hobbies?”
“A man with your type of high-pressure job, your… assets, must need some sort of release. Stamp collecting, computer doodling, gardening.”
“Lieutenant,” the counselor said with weariness. “The relevance?”
“I’m interested in your client’s leisure time. We’ve established how he spends his business time. Perhaps you speculate on investments as a release valve.”
“No, Pandora was my first mistake and will be my last. I don’t have time for hobbies, or the inclination for them.”
“I know what you mean. I had someone tell me today that more people should plant petunias. I can’t imagine spending time digging in dirt and fussing with flowers. Not that I don’t like them. You like flowers?”
“They have their place. That’s why I have a staff to deal with them.”
“But you’re a licensed horticulturist.”
“I — “
“You applied for a license and were granted one three months ago. Just about the time you made a payment to Jerry Fitzgerald in the amount of a hundred and twenty-five thousand. And two days before, you placed an order for an Immortal Blossom from the Eden Colony.”
“My client’s interest in flora has no relevance in this matter.”
“It has plenty,” Eve shot back, “and this is an interview, not a trial. I don’t need relevance. Why did you want an Immortal?”
“I — it was a gift. For Pandora.”
“You went to the considerable time, trouble, and expense to secure a license, then purchased a controlled species at considerably more expense, as a gift for a woman you occasionally had sex with. A woman who over the last eighteen months bled you for over three hundred thousand dollars.”