The in Death Collection Books 11-15 - J. D. Robb [687]
“Is that the only dealing you had with him?”
“Never spoke another word to the man, nor he to me.”
“They lost a child,” Sal reminded her. “It can sour a person.”
“Some are born sour.” Nita nodded to the house across the street. “I’d say that man was.”
Eve conducted the first three interviews on Greene’s list in the privacy of each subject’s home or office. In each case there were varying degrees of denial, outrage, embarrassment, and pleading.
And in the case of Judge Vera Archer, a cold acceptance.
“I’d prefer to continue this discussion without the presence of your uniform, Lieutenant Dallas.”
“Peabody, wait outside.”
Archer folded her hands on her desk. Her chambers was a streamlined, organized space that suited her image. She was a tall, sternly attractive, rail-thin woman of sixty-three, with short, straight dark hair. She had a reputation for delivering swift and thorough decisions that rarely failed to hold up on appeal.
She brooked no theatrics in her courtroom.
Apparently, Eve thought, she enjoyed them in private. On disc she’d worn a pink ballgown, and had performed a rather glamorous striptease—down to g-string and pasties—for two well-muscled men as a prelude to a very athletic ménage à trois.
“I assumed I’d be dealing with this when I heard Nick Greene had been killed. My private life isn’t up for discussion. No laws were broken by me, other than those of common sense.”
“Yet you paid Nick Greene seventy-five hundred dollars a month.”
“I did. It’s not illegal to pay such a fee. And if we determine it as blackmail, the crime was his in extorting such a fee. I’m not going to explain the contents of the disc, nor the motivation behind those contents. I’m entitled to my privacy.”
“Yes, Your Honor, and you certainly paid enough for it. However, the contents of that disc, and your payments, are now part of a homicide investigation.”
Archer’s gaze never wavered. “I was better off with him alive. I could afford the money a great deal more than I can afford the publicity from exposure. The embarrassment to my robes, my husband. I made full disclosure of this matter to my husband nearly a year ago. You can verify that if you deem it necessary, but it is, again, a private matter. I will tell you we agreed to continue the payments.”
“You’re aware of the circumstances of Nick Greene’s death?”
“I am.”
“While I sympathize with your desire for privacy, Your Honor, that sympathy doesn’t extend over my pursuit of the terrorists who are responsible for his death, and the death of six others to date.”
“And how will exposing the contents of that disc aid your pursuit? I must have the respect of my courtroom when I’m on the bench. You pursue, you arrest, but then it’s up to the courts to complete the cycle of justice. How can I do that if I’m a laughingstock, an embarrassment?”
“I’ll do whatever I can to protect your privacy. Tell me how you came to use Nick Greene’s services.”
Archer rolled her lips inward into a nearly invisible line. “I’d heard about him through an acquaintance. It seemed harmless, and though his services were admittedly borderline, I made use of them. A release valve, you could say, from the pressures of the job. I made use of them once a month for several months. Then he gave me a copy of the disc, explained the payment schedule and the consequences of nonpayment. All very reasonable and businesslike.”
“You must have been very angry.”
“I was angry. More, I felt like a fool. A woman who’s lived for more than sixty years, sat on a bench for fourteen, shouldn’t be so easily duped. I paid, because one always pays for