Passion, Betrayal and Killer Highlights (13 page)

“What were you doing at the time?”

“You know, the usual. Hanging around the apartment watching
E
and doing some decorating.”

Anatoly shook his head sympathetically. “Isn’t it strange to think that while you were carrying on with what must have seemed like a normal day at home, something as sinister as a murder was taking place a few miles away?”

Cheryl reached out and grabbed Anatoly’s hand. “It’s so good to finally talk to someone who understands.”

“I’m trying to envision it.” Anatoly creased his forehead and shook his head. “What were you doing earlier that day? Were you working? Out with friends?”

“No, I was home all day.”

She had no alibi. The image of Cheryl being carted away in handcuffs flashed before my eyes and I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning.

“You must have loved your brother very much,” Anatoly said.

“I did.” Cheryl nodded and dabbed her eyes, although I couldn’t see any tears.

“Did the two of you spend much time together?”

She shifted in her seat. “Bob and I are very busy people.”

“So, you mean to tell me that a brother and sister who lived in the same city were never able to make time for each other?” Anatoly dropped her hand. “I don’t understand. I have a brother in Israel and not a day goes by that I don’t wish I could see him more often.”

“Well, we did see each other occasionally,” Cheryl said quickly. “Sometimes he would stop by the hotel if he had a spare moment to say hi.”

“Ah.” Anatoly’s tone softened. “So you did make some time for each other. I was being harsh. I didn’t know Bob, but Sophie said that he wasn’t always the easiest person to get along with and obviously you don’t share that opinion. Maybe the two of you just didn’t have much in common.”

“He did share my good taste.” She nodded toward her disastrous stab at decorating. “But we had our differences, too. His priorities were a little confused. It’s like, I would tell him about how Steven Spielberg was staying with us, you know, at the Ritz, and how he took the time to compliment me personally on my exemplary service, and Bob would act like he didn’t even care.” She shrugged, apparently mystified by the memory of her brother’s indifference. “Maybe he was just jealous. It must have been hard for him to have a sister who was always getting to rub elbows with the celebs.”

“Uh-huh.” Anatoly looked like he was beginning to get a headache. “So would you say that was your main source of contention—his lack of appreciation for Hollywood celebrities?”

Cheryl put her fingernail in her mouth and pondered that for a moment before nodding. “Pretty much.”

My cell phone rang, interrupting what had become a less-than-stimulating question-and-answer session. My caller ID read “Private Number.” I pressed it to my ear. “Y’ello.”

“Miss Katz? It’s Detective Lorenzo. I was hoping you could come in to the station. We have some more questions for you.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. “Has something happened?”

“We’ll talk about it when you get here.”

“Okay, I’ll be right over.” I hung up and looked at Anatoly.

“Who was that?”

I was going to answer him truthfully, but then I saw the inquisitive look on Cheryl’s face and decided that the honesty could wait. “It was
Channel Four
. They said that they might not want the interview after all.”

“What!” Cheryl jumped out of her seat. “But you have to change their mind!”

“Yeah, I know.” I stood up and crossed to the door. “I’ll go over there right now and see if I can make things right.”

“I’ll go with you,” Cheryl offered.

“No,” Anatoly said as he opened the door for me. “We don’t want to bombard them. They called Sophie, so she’s the one who should talk to them.” He smiled at her. “I promise to call you when we have it all worked out.”

“Okay,” Cheryl said uncertainly. “If they want to interview just me…”

“I’ll be sure to give them your number.” I grabbed Anatoly’s sleeve. “We really need to go now.”

Anatoly nodded. “Talk to you soon, Cheryl.”

We walked down the stairs together, but it wasn’t until we were on the street that he addressed me. “Who was that really?”

“Detective Lorenzo—he said he had some more questions.”

Anatoly hesitated. “It’s to be expected that he would have some follow-up questions. It doesn’t mean he has discovered anything new.”

“You mean that he might not have found out about the affair,” I said quietly.

“It’s possible.” But he didn’t sound all that convinced. We walked the rest of the way to the car in silence.

It wasn’t until we were on the road and halfway to the station that I dared speak my thoughts. “What if he asks me something I don’t want to answer?”

Anatoly sighed and rubbed his eyes. “When in doubt, tell the truth.”

“I’m sort of a poetic license kind of girl.”

“I’ve noticed. Unfortunately so have the police. They’re going to try to trip you up, and I’m sure you’ve heard the expression—if you tell the truth you don’t have to remember what you’ve said.”

I stopped at a crosswalk and waited while an elderly Chinese woman and her rottweiler crossed the street. “I don’t really want to let on that Leah told me about the affair.”

“Sophie…”

“I just think you were right when you said that the revelation should come from Leah.” I shifted gears and turned the corner.

Anatoly let out a heavy sigh. “Fine, don’t tell them that you knew about the affair.”

“And I don’t want to tell Lorenzo that I have a letter from Bianca to Bob. I mean, no one but Erika, you and me know we have that letter, and Erika’s not going to say anything, so there’s no real reason to volunteer this information.”

“Sophie, is there anything you
do
plan on telling them?”

We weren’t that far from our destination so I decided to pull into a parking garage.

“I think I’ll tell them that Leah’s innocent and that if they really want to be of service to the public they’ll just arrest Cheryl and be done with it. The woman is whacked and she has no alibi.”

“Yes, it’s been my experience that the police love it when civilians tell them how to do their job.”

“It’s not like I’m trying to order them around—it’ll be more like a friendly suggestion.”

“And I’m sure there were a lot of whacked people alone on the night that Bob died.” Anatoly drummed his fingers against his thigh. “That doesn’t make them killers.”

“But—”

“She has no motive, Sophie.”

I found a spot and killed the engine. “If Cheryl did have a motive, do you really think she’d tell us about it? Even she’s not that stupid.”

Anatoly shook his head. “You can’t mold this case to turn out the way you want it to. Let’s look at the facts we have and follow them where they lead us, instead of following clues that aren’t there.”

“But the facts we have all lead us to Leah!”

Anatoly turned to me, his eyes caring but serious. “I know.”

I swallowed hard. “Come on, let’s go to the police station and get this over with.”

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead he just nodded and got out of the car.

We walked down the street, rounded the corner and then stopped short. In front of the station was a mass of people, some of them chanting
“SF Justice is skin deep,”
others waving signs that read Leave Sistah Leah Alone or The Jewish Defense League Supports Leah.

“Oh, my God,” I gasped. “It’s the Rainbow Coalition, and they’re seriously
pissed.
”

Anatoly shook his head, clearly riveted by the scene in front of him. “This is such an interesting country.”

He took my arm and we pushed through the crowd.

“Yo, check out the beautiful multicultural couple,” someone screamed.

Cheers rose up into the air as people slapped us on the back and congratulated us on our exceptional PC-ness.

I bit my lip to hold back my laughter. “I’m dying,” I whispered.

“Don’t die,” Anatoly said. “If Bob’s death can cause this kind of madness, just think what yours would do. They’d probably call out Reverend Sharpton.”

We bent our heads and pushed our way through the throng into the police station. Guards were posted at the door; no doubt they were there to help with crowd control, but it looked like a pretty peaceful bunch. Totally insane, but peaceful.

I announced my presence to the officer sitting at what passed for a check-in desk, and then Anatoly and I took a seat in the rather expansive waiting room. The place was filled with several other civilians who were undoubtedly awaiting their own special interrogation sessions. You’d think that the atmosphere would have been one wrought with anxiety but instead the overall mood seemed to be one of bewilderment and mild amusement thanks to the spectacle outside.

In a matter of minutes Lorenzo appeared in the doorway wearing a dark brown suit that was cut a little too wide for his slim physique. He motioned for me to follow him down the sterile hallway to his equally bland office. I glanced at the linoleum floors and his desk that was completely devoid of personal touches. Would it have killed the man to do a little decorating? If he didn’t have family photos to put up, the least he could do was buy a fern to love.

“Have a seat, Miss Katz.”

I nodded and for a few seconds Lorenzo and I sat on opposite sides of his desk and simply stared at each other. He had gotten a haircut since I had last seen him but the barber he had gone to obviously had no idea how to handle curls. The result was a style that made Lorenzo’s head appear oddly misshapen.

“So,” he said, “it seems your sister’s plight has inspired a lot of people.”

“I think it was Cheryl’s blatant ignorance and racism that was inspiring.”

Lorenzo’s chair creaked as he leaned back. “Well, what do you know? We do agree on something.”

“I’m sure it’s just a fluke,” I said.

Lorenzo laughed. “All right, I just brought you in because I wanted to go over some of the information you gave me on the night of your brother-in-law’s death.”

“Shoot.”

“Let’s start with your impression of your sister’s marriage.”

I lowered my gaze to the floor.

“I believe you said it was going well.”

“Yes, I believe I said that.”

“Tell me again why you thought so.”

I shrugged noncommittally. “Leah seemed happy. On the very afternoon before his death she was telling me how much she loved being Mrs.Bob Miller.”

“Did she have any reason to think she wasn’t going to be able to keep that title?”

“None that I know of.”

“I see. So you didn’t know Bob was having an affair?”

I flinched. “I was unaware of that.”

“That’s funny because I just finished questioning his mistress, Bianca Whitman, and she says she talked to you about the affair just yesterday.”

“Oh—” I smiled and slapped my knee “—you mean, did I know yesterday! Yeah, I knew by then, I just didn’t know before Bob was shot.”

The detective pushed his chair back and crossed his ankle over his knee. “You know, I could charge you with obstructing justice.”

“Oh, give it up. I just recently found out about the affair and I confronted the woman Bob was sleeping with. I didn’t threaten her. I didn’t stalk her. I just talked to her. I don’t need to report my every move to the police.”

“I’m not interested in your every move, just the moves that are pertinent to this case. A man was killed in his home. That would be the same home in which your sister and nephew live. If we’re going to catch the killer, I’m going to need a little cooperation from you.”

“I’m nothing if not cooperative.”

“Right.” Lorenzo didn’t even bother to hide the fact that he found that amusing. “Tell me again about the conversation you and Leah had on the afternoon before Bob was shot.”

“Oh, you want to know what we talked about?”

“That would be nice.”

“I can’t tell you that,” I said matter-of-factly.

Lorenzo’s head dropped forward. “Why not?”

“I don’t remember much of it. I was drunk.”

“In the middle of the afternoon?”

“Yes. I’m an alcoholic.”

“Really.”

“Mmm-hmm, a big one.”

Lorenzo cracked his knuckles and tried not to flinch at the sound. “You didn’t seem to have a problem recalling the conversation on the night of Bob’s death,” he pointed out.

“But I was still somewhat intoxicated at that point. That’s why Anatoly insisted he be the one to drive to Leah’s. Ask him.”

Detective Lorenzo looked up at me without lifting his head. “Do I have to?”

I couldn’t help but smile. Of course, that was a mistake because it signaled that my guard was down and Lorenzo went in for the kill. “Where were you on the night Bob was shot?”

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “I was at home,” I clipped each word at the end.

“Alone?”

“No, Anatoly told you he was with me.”

“All evening?”

I pressed my lips together. I knew Anatoly would maintain his own lie that he was with me when I got the call from Leah, but I wasn’t sure if he’d back up any of my elaborations on that. “He came over a few minutes before Leah called,” I said. “Prior to that I was alone.”

“Alone—drinking in your apartment.”

“Yes,” I exhaled, thankful to finally be telling the truth.

“Detective Lorenzo?” said a female voice through his phone intercom.

Lorenzo quickly took her off speaker. “Yes? Good. Stay with her and I’ll be right there.”

He hung up the phone and stood up. “Well, Miss Katz, it was interesting as always.”

I smiled sweetly and pushed myself to my feet. “I wish I could say the same.”

Lorenzo’s grin widened. “I do have one more question. Do you think your sister would be willing to make a statement that she has not been the victim of racial profiling?”

“Is my sister a suspect?”

“At this point I can’t rule her out.”

“Yeah, well, until you do, I doubt she’s going to be in the mood to help build the department’s PR,” I replied.

“That’s what I thought you’d say.”

He escorted me out to the waiting room, where Anatoly was still seated—but now he was in the company of Jack, who was busy untying Anatoly’s shoelaces while Leah stared into space. A uniformed policewoman stood by her side.