Authors: Faye Kellerman
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Thrillers, #Suspense
“Anyone else know the combination to the outer safe?”
“Obviously, someone did.”
“Did you
give
the combination to anyone?”
“No.”
“Do you know the combination to the
inner
safe, Miss Eversong?”
“That, my young man, is exclusively Lilah’s bailiwick.”
“And that’s where she kept the memoirs?”
“I haven’t a clue as to what she squirreled away.”
Decker thought a moment. The safe had been picked cleanly — a pro crack all the way. Yet there was something very amateurish about the crime. Pros didn’t rape and ransack. They liked fast jobs — nothing with complications. So someone had probably hired assholes — punks — and given them the combination. Now if the punks had been hired to rob the safe of the jewels only, why bother taking the memoirs? It would have required an extra combination to break — assuming Lilah kept the memoirs in the inner safe. Logically, it would make more sense for the punks to have been hired to steal the memoirs. When they saw the jewels, they took them as a side perk. Despite Davida’s insistence to the contrary, Decker wasn’t ready to rule out the memoirs as the main object of the theft.
“Do you know the contents of your late husband’s memoirs?”
“Not at all. As a matter of fact, I’ve never even
seen
them. Supposedly, they went from Oskar’s estate right to Lilah’s safe. Did Lilah tell you about Oskar Holtz?”
“He was your late husband’s trusted friend?”
“A dear boy, little Oskar was. Now he’s gone.” She sighed. “They’re all gone. Only I’m left. I outlived them all.” She smiled. “Good genes.”
“Ms. Eversong, what did you mean when you said the memoirs
supposedly
went from Oskar’s estate into your daughter’s hands?”
“I’m not saying they don’t exist. All I’m saying is Lilah has a very active imagination. A year ago, my son suddenly told me about these supposed memoirs’ existence. Perhaps she
imaged
them just like she imaged her attackers.”
Decker didn’t answer.
“Humor her if you want. But take my jewel theft seriously.”
“I am. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”
They reached the lobby, walked over to the elevators. Davida dropped Decker’s arm and punched the down button.
“I’ll wait for you for twenty minutes, my handsome young friend in the unpressed suit. After that, you can forget about talking to me and you’ll have to deal with my insurance broker.” The elevator doors opened and Davida stepped inside. As the doors closed, she said,
“Ciao.”
“Can you believe that
woman
?”
“Are you all right, Lilah?”
“I’m furious! But I can’t say that I expected anything more out of her. Or out of Freddy, either. He’s just as exasperating but in a different way. So weak. I specifically tell him not to mention anything to Mother. So what happens?”
She picked up a bottle of makeup and threw it against the wall. It didn’t break, merely bounced and ended up on the floor.
There was a moment of silence.
“Pick that up, Peter. I might as well use it.”
He hesitated, angry at her barked orders. Then he remembered all she had gone through, complied, then sat back in his chair. “So your mother kept some jewelry in your safe.”
She glared at him, panting, fire in her eyes. “They… weren’t… after… the… jewelry.”
“Could you just bear with me for a moment, Lilah?”
Suddenly, she dropped her gaze. “Go on. I’m listening.”
“Say you’re right,” Decker said. “They weren’t after the jewelry. They were after the memoirs. But they found your mother’s jewelry. And took it. Because it’s valuable. Maybe they figured there was more jewelry in your house and that’s why they ransacked your place.”
Lilah was quiet. “Perhaps.”
“Do you have any other valuables that you don’t keep in the safe?”
“Some cash — front-desk-register money. What difference does it make? If I had kept it in the safe, they would have stolen it from the safe anyway.”
“True. Did you open your safe yesterday?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. Why?”
“We lifted your fingerprints off the dial.”
“So?”
“Your maid said she dusted the safe yesterday. I would have thought she would have dusted off any prints.”
Lilah said, “Mercedes is not that thorough. I think she vacuums the closet, but dusting? Forget it. I’ve found cobwebs in the corner. But why bother making her feel bad about it? When you asked her if she dusted the closet, you probably threatened her. So she lied.”
“Okay,” Decker said. “Out of curiosity, how much front-desk money are we talking about?”
“Only about a thousand dollars.”
Only
.
“And I keep some rainy-day money inside my bottom drawer. Five hundred or so. I could understand the ransacking of the drawers. Why did they have to destroy my room — my beautiful craftsmen furniture — pieces I’ve spent years looking for. Why did they smash the glass, break my lamps… rape me…
why
?”
Why? Because crime is dangerous and dangerous is
exciting
. Crime is a goddamn adrenaline fix straight into the bloodstream. Assholes get so pumped, testosterone shooting through their system, endorphins flooding their brains. They feel no pain. They rape. They kill. They destroy. And they love every minute of it. They get so friggin’
high
on their own hormones, they become addicted to crime as sure as to any drug.
Decker said, “There are a lot of sickos out there. I’m going to do my damnedest to find these bad guys.” He picked up the mug sheets of the registered sex offenders. “So none of these guys fit the bill.”
“No.”
“You’re sure you don’t have… even an inkling as to who did this to you?”
“Positive.”
“We’ll keep investigating, Lilah. Just a few more questions and then I’m out of your hair.”
Lilah lowered her eyes. “Why, you’re not in my hair, Peter.”
“Good. Let’s get back to the safe. Your mother said she has the combination to your safe.”
“The outer safe, yes.”
“Does she use it whenever she wants to wear a piece of jewelry?”
“Usually she tells me to fetch her whatever piece she wants. But she has a key to my house. If I were out of town, she could come in and open the safe.”
“What about the inner safe?”
“She doesn’t know the combination to it.”
“And that’s where you kept the memoirs?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else in the inner safe?”
“My mother’s will. But that isn’t exactly a collector’s item. Copies all over the place. She has one, my brothers each have a copy. The lawyer has a copy.”
“Do you know if your mother has made any changes in her will lately?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Just throwing out questions.”
“I don’t think she has. You’ve arranged a little tryst with her in the limo, why don’t you ask her yourself?”
“I take it you know the contents of your mother’s will?”
“I’ve never bothered with the specifics. I do know that the bulk of her estate is left to me.”
Decker noted that her account of her mother’s will was consistent with Freddy Brecht’s account. Maybe Brother King was actually “insanely jealous” of his sister. He made a note to contact this Merritt guy immediately.
“Did you keep
anything
else with the memoirs?”
She shook her head.
“Okay. Can I ask the police artist to come up and take those drawings now?”
Lilah broke into an innocent smile. “You really do believe in my powers, don’t you, Peter?”
“I—”
“I knew it. You
did
feel my energy.”
“I believe you’re trying to tell me something.” Decker paused. “When you… imaged these men, Lilah, you’re sure no one looked familiar?”
“Yes.”
“Lilah, what happened after the men were done? Did you hear them leave?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what time that was?”
“No.”
“Did you try to call anyone?”
“No… I was too scared to move.”
“I understand. Were you raped on your bed?”
“Yes.”
Decker paused. “Do you remember how you got on the floor?”
“He… pushed… kicked me… tore up my bed. I closed my eyes and tried to blank it out. Eventually, I must have passed out. The next thing I remember was your voice. Your…
beautiful
voice.”
Decker nodded and put his pad away. “You did great.”
Lilah’s eyes moistened. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Decker stood and handed her his business card. “If you think of anything else — need me for any reason — call the station house and I’ll get back to you.”
“This is the station house’s phone number?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you have another number where I could reach you?”
“No.”
She looked at him. “You don’t have a personal phone number, Peter?”
Intense anger had seeped into her eyes. Too bad, Decker thought. He felt bad for what had happened to her, but wasn’t about to give her free rein of his personal life. He waited until she seemed to sense the finality of his decision. Then he said, “This number’s better, Lilah. They can get to me twenty-four hours a day.”
She nodded without enthusiasm. “You can call me at the spa if you have any other questions, Sergeant.”
Sergeant
. Her formality was a punishment for his refusal to relinquish his home number. Or maybe she just didn’t feel the need for intimacy anymore. He said, “I have a partner—”
“A woman named Dunn?”
Decker nodded.
Lilah said, “I phoned the spa last night and my executive director told me your pal Dunn was there yesterday, asking questions. Kelley was not pleased.”
“Detective Dunn is very discreet. After all, your house is right next door to the spa.”
“I realize that, but I assure you no one from the spa had anything to do with this. But if she must ask questions to satisfy your superiors, I’ll make sure Kelley cooperates.”
“Thank you. You seem to have a great deal of trust in your staff.”
She turned to him, broke into a strange smile. “As I stated before, my family’s distrustful by nature. I, on the other hand, can afford to trust because I can sense honesty. Look at the length of employment of my staff. Very little turnover. I think God gave me this power to compensate for my overbearing mother. She doesn’t believe in my powers or in me. But then again, Mother really doesn’t know me very well.”
Mike Ness adjusted the dials of his video camera, placed the instrument gingerly on the narrow wooden bench, then opened his locker. The tap on his shoulder made him jump. Goddamn, after all these years she could still sneak up on him. Generally, he took it good-naturedly. Now he felt like strangling her. Instead, he took a deep breath and let it out to the count of eight.
“Small as it is, this is the
men’s
locker room, Kell.”
“No one’s here.”
“You’re getting on my nerves—”
“
I’m
getting on
your
nerves—”
“Yes,
you’re
getting on
my
nerves.” He slipped off a gray T-shirt. “Everything’s fine. Quit bugging me.”
“Where were you last night?”
“Jesus Christ, you’re worse than the police.” He pulled out a Body Glove T-shirt from the locker and put it on. God, she could be a pain in the ass. “Ever think about joining the Marines? You’d make a great drill sergeant.”
“Just answer me, Michael.”
He turned around, placed both hands on her shoulders. “I was giving Davida a massage. In her room for two fucking hours listening to her prattle on about some goddamn actor she used to ball. It was thrilling. I left at twelve, then unplugged the phone and tried to get some goddamn sleep.”
“I knocked on your door—”
“Then I didn’t
hear
you.”
Neither spoke. Ness sat down on the bench and began to lace his Nikes.
Kelley said, “Do you know where Eubie was last night?”
“No.” He looked up. “Why?”
“The lady asked about Eubie and the rape.”
Ness let out a full laugh. “Are you crazy, Kell? Eubie wouldn’t
rape
Lilah. Fuck her, yes, but
rape
?” He faced his sister. “Wanna know where Jeffs was, ask Nadia. He probably bunked down with her.”
“Nadia’s a dyke.”
“Not according to Jeffs.”
Kelley bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “What did you and Davida talk about?”
“I just told you! She was talking about some weirdo she used to fuck. She was heavily into ‘the good old days.’”
“Just…” She pushed hair off her shoulders. “Just swear to me that you were in your room all night, Mike.”
He broke into a grin. “You think I raped Lilah, Kell?”
“
Stop
it, Michael.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I… I just want to make sure that you…”
“I swear I had nothing to do with Lilah.” He patted her shoulder and gave her one of his assured big-brother smiles. “I swear, I swear, I swear! Now can I please have a little privacy? Or do you get a thrill out of seeing me naked?”
Kelley blushed. “You know you can be positively disgusting!”
“Then if I’m so disgusting, please leave me alone. The detective’s just asking questions because that’s what she’s being paid to do. If the police know what’s going on, they don’t bother asking lots of questions.”
“What
is
going on?”
“How the fuck do I know? All I know is that Davida’s happy. If she’s happy, I’m happy. Now relax, all right?”
Kelley bit her lower lip again. “All right, Mike. I believe you.”
Ness regarded his sister. She believed him. She always believed him, God bless her.
A gracious lady,
Davida accepted her chauffeur’s proffered hand, resting her fingers lightly upon his wrist as if ready to dance the minuet. Carefully she stepped up from the curb, waiting until she had one foot in the limousine. Then she turned to her young driver, eyes gliding down his well-built body, and handed him twenty dollars.