Stolen in Death, page 15
“It’s still hard to accept Henry’s gone. And now his son! I didn’t really know Nathaniel.”
“Nathan.”
“Of course. Henry and I weren’t blessed with any children during our time together. We had a fiery relationship. It just burned itself out.”
“Before that happened, did he tell you about or show you the vault?”
“No, and I refuse to believe Henry had any part of all that.”
Like the graceful tear, the look of umbrage seemed well practiced.
“He can’t defend himself, so I will. He loved art, and had a brilliant collection, right out in the open! He loved buying jewelry. I have a lovely collection from our time together. He’d never do this. I didn’t know his son well, or his daughter, but I’m inclined to believe they’re responsible.”
“That’s unlikely, Ms. Starling, as some of the items in the vault were stolen when they were, literally, children.”
“Well. I’ll never believe it of Henry. He was honest, hardworking, generous. We had a wild and burning love. He would have told me.”
“He was involved with other women during your marriage.”
“As the flame began to die. He had a weakness, and that blond bitch seduced him. He cast her off, didn’t he? Her and the others. We even tried to rekindle the flame, but it was done. Only quiet embers remained.”
She tossed back her hair. “Trust me. He didn’t have any part of this, but if he had? If he didn’t tell me, he didn’t tell any of those who followed me.”
When she finished that conversation, Eve took a tour of her office, then stopped by Roarke’s.
“If you cheat on me with a redheaded slut or a blond bitch, I’m going with wife number one’s method. Number two’s making him out to be a hero, one with whom she shared a fiery passion, and who had a weakness for women who seduced him. Poor Henry. The first couldn’t drum up the energy to attend his funeral, but if she had, she’d have worn a red dress and danced the cha-cha.”
Sitting back, he swiveled in his big leather chair. “You’re always dancing at my funeral.”
“Steer clear of redheads.”
“Noted.”
“Abernathy’s going to get me the information I want. He let me know, straight off, that they looked at you for a lot of the thefts.”
“Well, you had to expect that.”
“I did. I’m going to tackle wife number three. The first two didn’t know anything.”
“Number three would be the victim’s mother.”
“Yeah. Look, when I get the investigators’ reports, I’m going to copy you.”
“On the data from the thefts?” Sitting back again, he sipped from his tube of water. “Well, that, at least, will be fun.”
“Yeah, Ferris wheels and merry-go-rounds. All my fun comes tomorrow when I have to do another damn media conference on this whole mess.”
“You’ll get through it. Eve, I’ve started with the first thefts, and have a couple names in mind. But, well, one’s dead, one retired to Barbados a decade ago, and the last, he’s into his eighties, and I can’t see any of the three would apply here.”
“Flip it around,” she suggested. “Start at the other end. Somebody who stole for him forty, fifty years ago is less likely to have waited so long to take this job, if he knew about the vault in the first place. Five, ten years ago? Barrister could’ve started slipping—more likely at that age. And his death opens more of an opportunity.”
“Ah.” He gave her a nod and a smile. “Well now, that’s why you’re the cop.”
“You don’t really want to do this. That blocks some thinking angles.”
“I have some qualms, yes. But a man’s dead. You’ve the right of that. I’ll work from the other end.”
“How about we put in a few hours here, and if nothing breaks, we take a walk out to the pond and hang awhile, watch a vid later.”
“I’d like that.”
“Me, too. I’m hitting the next ex. When Abernathy comes through, I’ll copy you.”
Chapter Eleven
Eve reached Tina Glenn Barrister Carlyle Nance, wife number three and the mother of the victim, while she lounged on a balcony overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.
Plenty of work here, too, Eve deduced. That, and the perfectly applied makeup, helped the seventy-four-year-old pass for closer to fifty.
Her blond hair fell in long, luxurious waves to her shoulders. She wore enormous sunshades over eyes her ID termed violet-blue. She’d dyed her lips—full and pouty after their last treatment—a bright poppy pink.
Eve led with: “I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Nance.”
“Oh!” She pressed a hand, where diamonds flashed on fingers with nails of the same pink, to her heart. It beat under breasts as full as her lips and as perky as a teenager’s.
“I can’t comprehend it,” she said in a voice that hadn’t quite lost its roots in the Bronx. “My sweet little boy! I’m devastated.”
“Of course.”
“Have you found the person who did this terrible thing, who’s left my life shattered?”
“We’re working on it. If I could ask you some questions—”
“What could I tell you? My husband and I are spending the month on Corfu. He has business here. And I was on a short spiritual retreat when Joy contacted me.”
She covered her mouth with her hand a moment, as if overcome.
“I wasn’t there when Nathan needed me most. I’m going, of course, cutting off the last two days of my retreat.”
“That must be difficult and inconvenient.”
The sarcasm sailed over Tina’s head. “Yes, very, but what else can be done? My maid’s packing for me even as we speak so I can return home and prepare for the trip to New York. I’m going to say my final goodbye to my baby boy.”
Reaching under the enormous sunshades, she flicked a tear away with a pink-tipped finger.
“This should never be! But I need to be strong, to offer what comfort I can to…”
“Aileen? Nathan’s wife.”
“Yes, yes. I haven’t been able to think straight since Joy called to tell me the awful news. I have to do what I can for her and her children.”
“I’m sure you will. You’re aware that your son was killed during a burglary.”
“Yes, yes. Joy gave me the ugly details.”
“Did you know about the vault in his office?”
“No, I didn’t. Will I say it surprised me?” Her voice lost that choked-up flavor. “Not if I’m honest. Henry, may he rest in peace, was a man of secrets. That was part of his appeal. I was so young, a child really, and he was so mysterious and romantic. I loved him with all my young heart. The man simply swept me off my feet.”
“You were married about ten years.” The longest, Eve thought, of the four.
“Yes, you could say I grew up as a young wife, then a mother. I gave Henry what no one else had. I gave him two children. He was grateful for that. And even though our marriage faded, we remained civil, even friendly, for the children.”
The hand went back to her heart as she looked out to the sea, as if in grief.
“It’s a blessing, I suppose, that Henry didn’t live to see this terrible thing happen. As a father, he saw to it Nathan and Joy had every advantage. The finest education, extensive travel as part of that. When we couldn’t hold our marriage together, he bought me a penthouse nearby so the children would be close to both of us.”
“Regarding the vault.”
Tina waved that aside. “I stayed out of Henry’s business.”
“In ten years, you never went into his office at Barrister House?”
“Well, of course I did. As a young, devoted wife, I might go in to urge him not to work so hard, or take him a drink. Or…”
Smiling now, she tipped down her sunshades. Eve decided violet-blue was accurate, and those striking eyes showed no signs of weeping.
“Henry and I made love in that office. He liked me to play sexy secretary, and then—”
“Okay. Got that. He never mentioned the vault or its contents?”
“A man of secrets,” she repeated, and tapped the sunshades back in place. “Was it really full of treasures? My husband heard Henry had the Blue Moon in there.”
“I really can’t tell you, ma’am.”
“Oh, don’t call me ma’am.” She laughed gayly. “Why, we’re practically the same age. I’m saying if Henry really had something like the Blue Moon in there, I would’ve loved to see it all. Try a few things on, just for fun.”
Her lips moved back to their pout. “But he never told me. Something like that? Just behind the wall? And I never knew.”
“Would you have any idea who he might have told?”
“He never told me, his wife, the mother of his children. Maybe one of his dalliances.” She shrugged. “He had plenty of those. I realized, after I gained some distance and experience, that Henry was addicted to sex. And the younger the … partner, the better.”
“Anyone specific?”
The shoulders shrugged. “I hardly remember names, but you might look at the one he married years after our marriage dissolved. Nothing but a gold digger.”
After the conversation, such as it was, Eve put her head down on the desk for a minute. She needed to have one more of these with wife number four. Leading nowhere, she thought, but to the conclusion that Henry Barrister had lousy taste in wives—and a definite type.
But she had to check off that last box.
At least Abernathy had come through. Though tempted to switch it up, dive into those investigators’ reports, she copied them to Roarke. Comforting herself with more coffee, she contacted wife number four.
Lacey Jones Barrister O’Ryan surprised her. The mixed-race woman in her early forties hadn’t bothered with makeup, had her dark hair bundled carelessly back under a floppy straw hat.
“Just doing some gardening,” she said. “I heard about Nathan. I’m so sorry. I can’t say we were close, but he was a nice man, had a nice family.”
“You were married to Henry Barrister.”
“That’s right. Nathan would’ve been … well, in his late twenties or early thirties. I was about ten years younger, but we got along fine.”
“Henry Barrister would have been about…”
“Yeah.” She adjusted her hat, and set down what looked like a wicked pair of scissors. “Eighty. I was doing some modeling at the time, and caught his eye. I went out with him a couple of times. Why not? He was sweet to me, attentive. When he asked me to marry him, I was…” She laughed. “‘What?’ But he told me he was tired of playing the field—that’s how he phrased it. He laid it out. He wanted a marriage partner. He wanted someone beautiful, trustworthy, someone on his arm, someone to help host his dinner parties, travel with him, share his bed. And he’d make it worth my while—his phrase again.”
“Which meant?”
“A lump sum payment once it was official, a kind of annual salary for every year of marriage—as long as I didn’t cheat. He didn’t want any more kids. I’d have a generous stipend, I guess you’d call it, for wardrobe and other personal expenses.”
“So it was basically a business arrangement.”
“On one level, yes. He was offering me millions and a lifestyle that was way beyond mine. I was never going to be a supermodel. I could have all that if I wore a ring, slept with him, and stayed faithful. We didn’t love each other, but we liked each other.”
She paused a moment, clipped some dead-looking flower off at the head, and tossed it in a bucket with other dead-looking flowers.
“Honestly, I really liked him. He was so interesting, and powerful, really. And for a few years, it was pretty damn good. Henry showed me the world, and the kind of world I’d only seen in vids or read about.”
She lifted her shoulders. “Anyway, he started looking around. Jesus, the man’s cruising toward ninety, and it wasn’t enough he had a wife who hadn’t hit thirty. We didn’t fight about it, but I told him it wasn’t right. I’d been faithful, and he wasn’t being faithful, and that wasn’t right.”
She sat, picked up a shiny red cylinder, and sipped from it.
“He said that’s the way it was, and I said it broke the deal. We didn’t argue about it, it was a kind of no-hard-feelings deal, it’s been nice, now it’s done. He gave me a settlement, and I have to say, it was more than I’d have asked for. The thing is, we still liked each other, so there just weren’t any hard feelings.
“Henry even came to my wedding. I met Liam a couple years after the divorce, and that was love. Still is. But I came into that, thanks to Henry, with my own. Liam’s a successful man, but I had my own this time. We’ve got a really good life, a couple of terrific kids who drive us both crazy about half the time. And now that they’re both in school, I’m going to start my own business. Gardening and landscaping. I like being a wife, a mom, and I’m going to like having my own business. I have all that because of Henry.”
“You were married almost seven years. Did you know about the vault?”
“It’s true about that?” Blowing out a breath, she shoved back the brim of her hat. “I thought that part was crazy bullshit.”
“There is a vault in his home office at Barrister House, and it contained over forty stolen items. Art, jewelry.”
“I didn’t want to believe it. I never saw that side of him. That’s not really true, is it?” she murmured. “Henry liked things. I mean to say he … coveted isn’t the right word because he could get them. Important things, things most people couldn’t begin to afford to have. He’d buy me jewelry because he liked me wearing something that would pop your eyes out when we went to events or hosted a party. I knew that, didn’t mind that. It was part of the deal.”
“Ms. O’Ryan, my impression is you and Henry Barrister had and maintained an intimacy—not sexual, but in a friendship.”
“We did. We’d talk now and then. When the kids came along, he’d send presents for their birthdays, for Christmas. I appreciated that.”
“As a friend, he never mentioned the vault or its contents.”
“No, he…”
“What?”
“I don’t know if it means anything. The last few years, before he died, he seemed more frail—his mind, I mean. We’d talk on occasion during the year, and I noticed that. He did say, a couple of times, that he had things put away he wished he’d given me. That I was the only one who’d been his true friend as well as his lover, and he was going to arrange something.”
“Did he?”
“No. Honestly, I think he forgot, or was just rambling some.”
“Any idea who he might have told?”
“He trusted me, so I really think I’d have been the first choice there. But the one he was looking around at when we were married? Well, she wasn’t the only one, but she sticks in my mind. There was something off about her, something too smooth. I even told him to watch out for her. ‘You watch out for that one, Henry. You want to be really careful there.’ But he didn’t listen.”
“Do you have a name?”
“No, I’m sorry. I probably knew it at some point. I think we were in France, maybe Italy, and hosting a party. A big one. I think—I can’t be positive—but I think that’s the first time I saw her. Gorgeous blonde, young. Several years younger than I was. I doubt she was more than about twenty, but she’d been around.”
She winced. “That sounds catty.”
“No, it’s an impression.” And Eve wanted just that. “Do you have more?”
“I don’t know who she came with. I do know she flirted with Henry, and he flirted back. Not just the way you might at a party, but more, and it hurt my feelings. He had that look in his eye, the one he had when he looked around at me when I was twenty.”
With a half laugh, she set the water cylinder down again. “It still hurts a little. I saw her a few more times. But as I said, she wasn’t the only one. She was just sort of the straw, you know? The last straw. Whatever that means.”
“Right? What does that mean?”
Lacey laughed again, and meant it. “Who the hell knows? She wasn’t the only one. The last few months, he fooled around plenty, but this one stuck in my head. In fact, a while back, I was in New York—the whole family—and I actually saw her coming out of a shop. She saw me, too. And she gave me this look.”
Lacey hissed between her teeth. “Excuse my language, she fucking smirked at me, then strolled away. I wanted to punch her one.”
“When was that?”
“Last December. We took the kids to New York for a week.”
“Do you think this woman might have spent time with Henry?”
“Yeah, wouldn’t surprise me a bit. It was that look. He didn’t marry her. He told me when we split he was done with marriage. He had to be because he couldn’t stop looking around. At least he figured that one out. I guess the things in the vault are like the women. He just couldn’t stop wanting what he didn’t have.”
“Could you give me some names, other people at that party?”
“It was so long ago, but … I remember some. A few I keep in touch with. I could send those to you.”
“I’d appreciate that. Thank you for your time and cooperation, Ms. O’Ryan.”
“It’s no problem. Look, could you, when you find out who did this, could you let me know? We’re sending flowers to Aileen and her kids. It feels like it would be awkward to go to any memorial, but I’d really like to know the person who killed Henry’s son is behind bars for it.”
“I can do that. If you think of anything else—maybe the name of this particular woman will come back to you—please get in touch.”
“Absolutely.”
If she had it right, Eve thought, they—whoever—said the third time was the charm. Which made no sense. But she believed, in this case, the fourth time hit it.
She wrote her conversations up. It always helped to read as well as hear them. Then she walked back to Roarke’s office.
“Why is it a straw? Why is it the last straw?”
“It broke the camel’s back.”
“What’s a camel have to do with it?”
