The In Death Collection Books 6-10 - J. D. Robb [594]
“Okay, good.”
“I’ve spoken with her,” Mira went on. “I know you’re interviewing her formally today.”
“After I leave here. Just me, Nadine, and her lawyer. I want it on record that she came to me with the information. I can bury the statement for a few days, give her some breathing room.”
“That will help.” But Mira scanned Eve’s face, saw more. “What else?”
“Off the record?”
“Of course.”
Eve took a sip of the tea, then told Mira about the video disc in Draco’s penthouse.
“She doesn’t know,” Mira said immediately. “She would have told me. It would have troubled and infuriated her. Embarrassed her. He must have taped it without her knowledge.”
“Then the next line would be: What if he showed it to her when she went to see him the day he was murdered?”
“Housekeeping would have reported considerable damage to the suite, and Draco would have been forced to seek emergency medical care before his performance.” Mira sat back. “It’s good to see you smile. I’m sorry you’ve been worried about her.”
“She was shook when we had our meet. Really shook.” Eve pushed out of the chair, wandered to the mood screen, and watched the waves ebb and flow. “I’ve got too many people buzzing in my ears. It’s distracting.”
“Would you go back to your life as it was a year ago, Eve? Two years ago?”
“Parts of it were easier. I got up in the morning and did my job. Maybe hung out with Mavis a couple of times a week.” She blew out a breath. “No, I wouldn’t go back. Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m where I am. So . . . back to Draco.”
Eve continued. “He was a sexual predator.”
“Yes, I read your updated report just before you arrived. I will agree that sex was one of his favored weapons. But it wasn’t the sex itself that fulfilled him. It was the control, the package of his looks, his style, his talent, and sexuality used to control women. Women whom he considered his playthings. And through them, showing his superiority to other men. He was obsessed with being the center.”
“And the illegal? A guy uses Rabbit on a woman because he doesn’t think he’s going to score with her. It takes away her right to choose.”
“Agreed, but in this case, I would say it was just another prop to him. No different in his mind than candlelight and romantic music. He believed himself a great lover, just as he knew himself to be a great actor. His indulgences, in his mind, were no more than his right as a star. I’m not saying that sex doesn’t play a part in the motive, Eve. I believe, in this case, you have layers and layers of motives, and a very complex killer. Very likely every bit as egocentric as the victim.”
“Two of a kind,” Eve murmured.
He had it figured. Actors, they thought they were so fucking brilliant, so special, so important. Well, he could’ve been an actor if he’d really wanted. But it was just like his father had always told him. You work backstage, you work forever.
Actors, they came and they went, but a good stagehand never had to go looking for work.
Linus Quim had been a stagehand for thirty years. For the last ten, he’d been top dog. That’s why he’d been offered the head job at the New Globe, that’s why he pulled in the highest wage the union could squeeze out of the stingy bastards of management.
And even then, his pay didn’t come close to what the actors raked in.
And where would they be without him?
That was going to change now. Because he had it figured.
Pretty shortly the New Globe was going to be looking for a new head stagehand. Linus Quim was going to retire in style.
When he worked, he kept his eyes and his ears open. He studied. Nobody knew what was what and who was what to who in a theater company the way Linus Quim knew.
Above all, he was an expert on timing. Cues were never missed when Linus was in charge.
He knew the last time he’d seen the prop knife. Exactly when and where. And knowing that left only one window of opportunity for the switch.