Imitation in Death

“And the following Sunday morning, when she took the boy out. Were you with them?”

“I met them in the park.” Her voice warmed. “I enjoy the boy.”

“So you’ve spent time with him, the three of you together.”

“Once a week or so. I want him to know me, so he’s comfortable. When he’s older, perhaps we’ll find a way to blend our relationships.”

“Has Julietta ever told you her husband is violent?”

“No. Believe me, if there was violence in the home, I would urge her to take the boy and leave. His work is odd, disturbing, but he appears to leave it at that. You suspect him of killing that woman in Chinatown. Lieutenant, if I believed him capable of such a thing, I’d get my lover and her son away from him. Whatever it took.”

– -«»--«»--«»--

“You know the trouble with people having extramarital affairs, Peabody?”

“Explaining why you never wear all that sexy underwear you bought at home?”

“There’s that. But it’s the delusion. They really believe they’re getting away with it. Some do, for the short haul, but there are always tells. Too many late nights at the office, secret ‘link transmissions, the friend of a friend who happens to see you having lunch with someone not your spouse in some out-of-the-way restaurant. And beyond all that, if that spouse isn’t in a coma, there’s a sense-a look, a smell, a change in touch. Serena Unger’s no dummy, but actually believes Breen hasn’t got a clue.”

“And you don’t.”

“He knows. His wife’s been playing pass the strap-on with another woman for a year and a half, he knows.”

“But if he does, how can he ignore it, just go around pretending everything’s fine day after day? It would have to eat away at you, make you crazy… Which is exactly what you’re getting at. If Roarke was fooling around with somebody, what would you do?”

“They’d never find the bodies.” She tapped her fingers on the wheel as she sat in traffic. “Women are ruining his happy home, threatening his family. Worse, it leaves him feeling dickless. You spend all day writing about murder. You’re fascinated with it. Why not give it a try? Show those bitches who’s boss. I think it’s time to bring him in and press him. But first we’ll check out some of your plaster outlets. Maybe we can add weight.”

Peabody pulled out her PPC, did a search for the closest address. “Village Art Supplies,14 West Broadway. Lieutenant, I know you’re looking sharp at Breen and Renquist, but I’ve got just the opposite direction, which I sincerely hope doesn’t piss you off so that you remember to punch me in the stomach. I’ve seen you punch, and it’s gotta hurt.”

“If I got pissed off at everyone who disagrees with me… Oh, that’s right, I do. But in this case I’ll make an exception.”

“Big thanks for that.”

“Why do you disagree?”

“Okay.” Peabody scooted around in her seat to face Eve’s profile. “I think Fortney fits the profile more. He has no respect for women. He hits them and hits on them because it’s a way to show what a big shot he is. He’s hooked up with a strong woman because she’ll take care of him, and the more she takes care of him, the more he resents it, and the more he cheats on her. He’s got two exes who ski

“Those are all good points, and a proud tear threatens my eye.”

“Really?”

“About the tear? No. However, all those points you make are why he’s still on the list.”

“But when you lean toward a guy like Breen, I just don’t see it. A man that sweet with his kid. And if he does know about the affair, isn’t it more likely he’s holding it together because he loves his wife and son, and just wants it to go away? As long as he doesn’t acknowledge it, it’s not real. I can see how somebody’d handle it that way. He could convince himself it doesn’t count because she’s not with another man. She’s going through a phase, experimenting, whatever.”

“You could be right.”

“I could?” Emboldened, Peabody pressed on. “And Renquist. He’s just too prissy or something. The whole Sunday-brunch-at-ten routine. Then there’s his wife. I can see her looking the other way if he likes to try on her underwear occasionally in the privacy of their own home, but I can’t see her living with a psychopath. She’s too prissy. And she’d have to know. You could tell she has her finger on the pulse of that household, so she’d have to know something.”

“I think you’re right about that. Nothing gets by her. But I think she could live with a psychopath just fine. As long as he doesn’t drip any blood on her floors. I met the woman who raised him, Peabody. He married the same basic type, just more upscale and stylish. But you think Fortney, I’ll tell you what. If we haven’t closed this by the day after tomorrow, you take him.”

“Take him where?”

“Work him, Peabody. Make him your focus and see what comes up.”

“You think we’re going to close it.”

“Soon. But you may get your shot.”

– -«»--«»--«»--

They checked out three outlets before Eve decided it was time to go by the hospital to check on Marlene Cox. She acknowledged the guard she’d stationed outside the door, and told him to take a ten-minute break while Peabody stood as relief.

Inside, she found Mrs. Cox reading aloud from a book beside the bed while machines kept her daughter tethered to the world.

Sela looked up, then marked her place before setting the book aside. “They know people in comas can often hear sounds, voices, and respond to them. It can be like being behind a curtain you can’t quite open.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“One of us takes turns reading to her.” Mrs. Cox reached over, fussed with the sheet that covered Marlene. “Last night we put in a disc. Jane Eyre. It’s one of Marley’s favorites. Have you read it?”

“No.”

“It’s a wonderful story. Love, survival, triumph, and redemption. I brought the book today. I think hearing me read it would be comforting for her.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

“You think she’s already gone. That’s what they think here, though they’re very kind, and they’re working very hard. They think she’s gone. But I know she’s not.”

“It’s not for me to say, Mrs. Cox.”

“Do you believe in miracles… I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

“I’mDallas.LieutenantDallas.”

“Do you believe in miracles,LieutenantDallas?”

“I’ve never thought much about it.”

“I believe in them.”

Evecrossed to the bed and looked down.Marlene ’s face was colorless. Her chest moved gently up and down to the rhythm of the machine that breathed for her in constant, whooshing notes. She saw death all over her.

“Mrs.Cox, he would have raped her. He would have been brutal. He would have done his best to keep her conscious during it so she’d have felt the pain and the fear and the helplessness. He would have reveled in that, and he would have taken some time to torture her. There were… instruments in the van he would have used on her.”

“You want me to know that because she fought, she escaped that. She stopped him from doing those terrible things to her, and that’s a kind of miracle.” Her breath shuddered as she fought back a sob. “Well, where there can be one, there can be another. As soon as she can open the curtain she’ll tell you who it was. They told us she probably wouldn’t live through the morning. It’s pastnoon now. Can you tell me, if you believe she’s done, why you came in today?”

Evestarted to speak, then shook her head and looked back atMarlene. “I was going to tell you it’s routine. But the fact is,Mrs.Cox, she belongs to me, too, now. That’s the way it is for me.”

When her communicator signaled, she excused herself and stepped out into the corridor.