Innocent in Death (21 page)

“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.”

14

SHE SWUNG THROUGH THE BULL PEN, THEN into her office for her coat. Stopped, kicked the desk lightly. She wasn’t answering those messages. She wasn’t a frigging saint. But she could do something about something else.

Pulling on her coat she walked back into the bull pen and straight to Baxter’s desk where he was slugging back cop coffee and reading a sweeper’s report.

“I saw you closed the underground case. Got a Murder Two. Trueheart handle the interview?”

“Yeah. He did good.”

She glanced over to the cube where the undeniably adorable Officer Trueheart was pecking away at paperwork. “Trueheart.”

He swiveled around immediately, blinked at her. “Sir.”

“Nice work on the Syke’s interview.”

He flushed. “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

“Taught him all he knows,” Baxter claimed with a grin.

“Hopefully, he’ll overcome that. As for earlier, I appreciate the sentiment. Let’s leave it there.”

“Got that.”

Satisfied, she left to study the dead.

Welcome back. Can I offer you some refreshments?” Morris was in pewter today, with a purple shirt and braided pewter tie. His hair was in a long tail that made Eve think of glossy thoroughbreds.

“Rather have a ruling.” Eve glanced down at Williams’s body. “Homicide.”

“I have fudge brownies. Home-baked by the lovely hands of a Southern goddess.”

Eve’s eyes narrowed on the mention of brownies. She swore she heard saliva pool in Peabody’s mouth. Then the Southern goddess mention struck. “Detective Coltraine?”

Morris laid a hand on his heart, thumped it to mime a beating heart. And Eve thought, Whatwas it with men and blondes with big tits?

Morris wiggled his dark, sharp eyebrows. “Our transplanted magnolia bakes for relaxation, it seems.”

“Huh.” Eve cocked her head. “What, you smitten, Morris?”

“Who wouldn’t be?”

“I could eat, like, a half a brownie.”

Morris smiled at Peabody. “In the personal friggie over there. Help yourself.” Then he turned to Eve. “Accident or murder? You be the judge.”

“It’s murder.”

“Well, well.” He stepped back from the body, gestured. “What do we see? A superficial wound under the chin.”

“Cracked it on the pool edging. Sweepers found some of his skin on the tile. It would’ve smarted, but I’m damned if it knocked him unconscious and caused him to drown.”

“Hmm. More superficial wounds on the back.”

“Consistent with injury sustained when he was dragged out of the pool. More skin found. That’s postmortem.”

“It is, it is, my canny student. We have a very fit individual, other than his being dead, of course. Excellent muscle tone. Your on-scene notes indicated he was a swimmer, that there was no sign of struggle. Yet you cry murder.”

“I say it, straight out.”

“And knowing you, knowing you wouldn’t send me a body unless you had strong cause, we’ve proceeded accordingly. His tox screen isn’t back yet. Shortly, as I flagged it.”

“What do you think’s in him, and how did it get there?”

“For the what, we’ll wait. For the how. Have a look.”

He handed her goggles, then gave her a finger curl. When she walked to Williams’s head, she noted Morris had shaved a circle of hair away on the crown.

“Man, would he hate that. Bald spot. And lookie, lookie.” She bent closer, and with the goggles could just make out the faint mark. “Pressure syringe,” she said. “Barely shows, and on the scalp, with a headful of hair, the naked eye isn’t going to see it.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Now she glanced over at Morris, grinned. “Yours excepted. I missed it. I looked over his body, between his fingers and his toes, even checked his tongue, the inside of his cheeks, but I missed this. Nice catch.”

“I ate a whole brownie,” Peabody confessed.

“Who could blame you?” Morris patted her arm when she joined them.

“We got our homicide, Peabody. Vic’s doing laps, maybe finishes up, or just stops when he sees someone. Grips the edging. Maybe says something…‘Hey, what’s up?’ But there’s no time for conversation. Have to get it done, get out. It’s a risk, but like with Foster, calculated. All you do is bend down, pump the syringe.”

Drawing off the goggles, she pictured it. “Had to be quick. No poison this time. He didn’t show any symptoms of any poison I know. Maybe the shock of the buzz on the scalp had him lose his grip, rap his chin. But…not a sedative. Too slow. He might have been able to make it out, or try. If he’d clawed at the edging, we’d have seen signs of that on his hands, his fingers. Numbed him, that’s what it did. Like the stuff MTs and doctors use to block pain and movements for some treatments. You’re awake, even aware on some levels, but you don’t feel anything, you can’t move anything.”

“And we are, once more, in accord.” Morris nodded. “I believe the tox results will come back with a standard surgical paralytic substance, injected through the scalp. Strong, fast-acting, and quite temporary.”

“Not temporary enough for him. He would’ve struggled. Strong guy, he’d have been able to keep his head up for a while, maybe try to float. There’s a set of stairs about five feet from where the sweepers found the skin. If he’d thought of it, tried to get there, prop his head…The killer might have had to help him out a little, hurry the process before someone wandered in. There are some long poles in there. Nets, brushes. Wouldn’t have taken much to nudge him under, keep him under until it was done.

“Then you just walk out, slide right back into the mainstream.”

“Slime bitch,” Peabody said, with relish. But Eve frowned.

“Morris, do you figure they keep paralytics in the nurse’s station at a private school?”

“They would probably have low doses of a basic number, for pain relief. But I can’t imagine they’d be authorized to have anything like this.”

“More likely the killer brought it in rather than took it from the school. So, impulse, passion is again unlikely. Prepared and calculated and controlled, while able to take risks.”

She’d run probabilities, she’d go back over every point, reevaluate time lines and wit statements. But for now, she looked back down at Williams.

“You were a sleazy son of a bitch, but you weren’t a killer after all. Whoever did Foster did you both.”

At Eve’s order, Peabody put in a request for a warrant to search Arnette Mosebly’s residence. Eve tapped her fingers on the wheel as she drove back to the school.

“Tag Reo back,” she decided. “I want a warrant for the Straffo residence.”

“You really think Allika Straffo might’ve done them?”

“I figure beautiful women know how to play, how to act the victim. I also figure Oliver Straffo’s a tough nut. Maybe he finds out his wife’s diddling with the teacher. And he finds out Foster knows and is considering blowing the horn. Protect the home front, protect the reputation and your own personal pride.”

“Stretching.”

“Is it?” She sighed. “If I’d known about that vid they aired this morning, I’d have been tempted to hunt down the operator, the reporter, the producer, whoever I needed to find, and do them some bodily harm. I’d have rather kicked ass than feel humiliated publicly, then have to walk into that bull pen and feel it all over again.”

“Sorry. Um, can I just ask why that Magdelana whore-slut wasn’t in line for bodily harm?”

“I’d have saved her for last.” Eve’s fingers tightened and released on the wheel. “Which means I’d have probably blown my wad before I got to her, and still feel the way I do now. What’s the point?”

“Don’t say that, Dallas. You can’t—”

“It’s going back in the box.” Where it should have stayed, Eve reminded herself. “I only brought it out to illustrate a possibility we have to consider. Straffo’s a lawyer, and to give him his due, he’s a damn good one. He plans, he calculates, he strategizes. And as a defense lawyer he often knows going in that he’s doing all this to set the guilty free.”

“Lack of conscience.”

“We’re cops, we like to think that of defense lawyers. But it’s the job. That’s what it is. It’s their job, and it’s the law. But you have to have some stones to work at getting a killer, a rapist, an illegals dealer a walk—or a deal, for that matter. So he fits the profile, and we take a closer look.”

Just to be certain, Peabody checked her notes. “He wasn’t signed in this morning at the school.”

“No matter how good the security, there’s a way around it.” She’d learned that from Roarke. “And the security at the school is no more than decent. Something else that needs to be checked out more carefully.”

She’d have asked Roarke to help out in that area. That was a habit she’d fallen into, another kind of rhythm, she supposed. But she’d just do it without the aid of her expert consultant, civilian, this time around.

At the school, she uncoded the locks with her master, then stood inside, hands in her pockets, studying the security scanner.

The student or visitor was obliged to use the thumb plate—all prints of authorized students, guardians, staff, and faculty were on file. Guests were required to be cleared before entry. Bags were scanned for weapons and illegals.

In a facility like this, Eve imagined the scans probably worked ninety percent of the time. In the state schools of her education, they
hadn’t
worked ninety percent of the time.

So money, as money could, brought a certain edge of safety.

At the same time, she imagined the system could be caused to jam or hiccup by a five-year-old with reasonable e-skills.

“Let’s have EDD go over this security. Dig down in it to see if it blipped at any time.”

Her bootsteps echoed as she walked the halls. Empty schools were like haunted houses, she thought. If you listened you could hear the sound of voices, the rush of bodies. Generations of kids, she imagined, trooping along in whatever footwear met the current fashion criteria.

She stopped at the nurse’s station, unlocked the door. Inside was a short counter, a stool behind it, a comp unit. There were four chairs and two cots covered with crisp white linens.

Under the counter were standard first-aid supplies. Packs of Nu Skin, cold packs, heat packs, temperature gauges, a home version of the suture wand the MTs carried. Gauze, swabs.

In a drawer, neatly stowed, were diagnostic aids for checking pulses, pupils, ears, throats. As innocuous as they were, she had to block a shudder.

Medicine in any form wigged her.

All drugs—kid-and adult-dose blockers, nausea remedies, fever reducers, cold tabs—were under lock in a cabinet that required a master like hers or a thumbprint and code.

Nothing inside fit her requirements. Though she did study the individually wrapped pressure syringes.

As far as she could see, Nurse Brennan ran a tight ship. Tight, safe, and secured.

Since the comp was passcoded, Eve tagged it for EDD.

“Kind of creepy in here, isn’t it?” Peabody said from behind her.

“Schools are always creepy. Anything fun in Mosebly’s office?”

“Nothing jumped, but I tagged the electronics, and boxed up her disc files. She had the blockers—case we saw her use earlier—and a couple of soothers in stock. Tagged her admin’s stuff, too. Just in case.”

“Good. Let’s go back through the lockers in the fitness area. And just for jollies, we’ll go through the kids’ lockers.”

“All of them? It’ll take hours.”

“Then we’d better get started.”

She could have called a team in, probably should have. They found a mountain of discs, a good chunk of them graphic novels rather than textbooks. Enough candy and salty treats to stock the shelves of a 24/7, memo cubes, comp games, moldy apples.

Flashlights, hairbrushes, lip dye, art supplies, an ancient sandwich of indeterminate origin. Doodles, sketches, empty wrappers, a number of mittens and gloves, neck scarves and caps.

Photographs, music vids, smelly socks, fashionable sunshades, broken sunshades, loose credits, and a forest of chewed-on pencils.

They also found a bag of poppers and three joints of zoner.

“Jesus.” Peabody shook her head. “Oldest kid in this place is barely thirteen.”

Eve noted down the locker numbers, confiscated the illegals. “Top dealer when I was in fifth, or maybe it was sixth grade was an eight-year-old named Zipper. You wanted it, he’d score it.”

“I never even saw a popper until I was sixteen.” Then Peabody waited while Eve answered her ’link.

“Dallas.”

“Reo. Warrant’s in on Mosebly. Took a little time as she tried to block. Still working on Straffo. He’s having a lot more luck bogging the works. You’re not going to get that one through tonight.”

“We’ll start with Mosebly. Thanks.” She clicked off. “Match the locker numbers with the students on those illegals, Peabody. Don’t file anything yet. We’ll talk to them first.”

“Parental notification?”

Eve shook her head. “We’ll talk to them first. Better, I’ll pass them to Detective Sherry in Illegals.”

“Ooooh, Scary Sherry.”

“Yeah, she’ll have them crying for their mommies and taking the pledge.” Eve checked her wrist unit, calculated the time. “Let’s call in a team to help with Mosebly’s.”

“Coming up to end of shift.” Peabody rubbed her hands together in gleeful anticipation. “Whose evening plans would you care to screw with?”

“Baxter and Trueheart just closed one. Tap them. And go ahead and tap McNab on the e-work there, if he’s clear.”

It infuriated Mosebly to have a small platoon of cops in her space. A very nice uptown space, Eve noted. Private-school brass did just fine, particularly when they were divorced with no kids of their own to pay to educate.

She had a female lawyer at her side who squinted at every word in the warrant, then made noises about police insensitivity and harassment.

It was interesting that under the conservative suits Mosebly—from the contents of her drawers—preferred sexy to slutty lingerie. Interesting that among the literature disc and collection of paper novels, she had a supply of popular romances.

And it was too damn bad they found no illegals, no poisons, no paralytics.

They trooped out with boxes of discs, electronics, and paper files. Eve handed the receipt to the lawyer, then heard, with some surprise, Mosebly burst into what sounded like genuine tears just before Eve closed the door behind her.