Witness in Death

"You killed him after he'd stopped abusing her. Why did you wait until it was over?"

"Because it wasn't over." Areena sighed, gave into her trembling legs, and sat. "He came to see me a few days before we opened. He'd been using. He was always more vile when he was using. He threatened to take her back. If I wanted him to keep his distance, I'd have to take her place. So I did. It was only sex, it meant nothing. Nothing."

But her hand shook as she dug into her purse, found a cigarette. "I should have pretended to be hurt, outraged, terrified. Those emotions would have stimulated him, satisfied him. I could have made him believe it. Instead, I showed disgust and disinterest. He retaliated by suggesting a threesome, himself, me and Carly, after opening night. He reveled in telling me everything he'd done to her, with her. How he'd enjoyed it, how exciting it had been for him to pound himself into her, knowing she was his blood, his daughter. He was a monster, and I executed him."

She got to her feet. "I have no remorse, I have no regret. I could have killed him that night when he stood in my rooms, bragging about being man enough to take on both mother and daughter at once."

There was a skim of sickness coating Eve's throat. "Why didn't you?"

"I wanted to be sure. And I wanted, somehow, for it to be just. And…" For the first time she smiled. "I wanted to get away with it. I thought I would. I thought I had."

When she began to fight with her lighter, Roarke crossed to her, took it from her chilly hands. Her eyes met his over the flame. "Thank you."

He laid the lighter back in her palm, gently closed her fingers around it. "You're welcome."

With her eyes closed, Areena took her first deep drag. "Of all my addictions, this is the one I've never been able to beat." She let out a sigh. "I've done many unattractive things in my life, Lieutenant. I've had my bouts of selfishness, of self-pity. But, I don't use people I care about. I wouldn't have let Ke

"That was your cover, doing it right here, onstage."

"Yes, surely I wouldn't commit murder in front of thousands of witnesses. I saw myself being eliminated as a suspect right away. And naively, I believed none of the others, being i

She managed a little laugh. "And knowing them, I was certain they'd find the process diverting. Frankly, Lieutenant, I didn't think any investigator looking into Richard's life to solve his death would work overly hard on the case once they discovered the kind of man he was. I underestimated you, even as Richard underestimated me."

"Until the moment you put the knife in him. Then he stopped underestimating you."

"That's right. The look in his eyes, the dawning of understanding, was worth every moment of pla

She could replay it in her head, scene by scene, move by move. Her own intimate play. "I simply took a knife from the kitchen one day when Eliza and I went down to ask for sandwiches. I kept it in my dressing room until opening night. Until the change of scene. There were several of us moving from point to point backstage, cast and crew. I exchanged the knives and added the touch of planting the prop in my own dressing room when my dresser's back was turned. I planted it right under her very loyal nose. Another clever twist, I thought at the time."

"It might have worked. It nearly did."

"Nearly. Why nearly, Lieutenant?"

"Anja Carvell."

"Ah. A name from the past. Do you know where it comes from?"

"No. I've wondered."

"A small, insignificant role in a small insignificant play that opened and closed on the same night in a backwater town in Canada. It was never put on my credits nor on Ke

"You used it when you placed her."

"Yes, for sentiment. And to protect her, I thought, should she ever try to find her birth mother. I had given her to good people. The Landsdownes are very good people. Kind, loving. I wanted what was best for her. I made certain she got it."

Yes, Eve thought, you made certain. Dead certain. "You could have let go then. Why didn't you let go?"

"Do you think because I only saw her once, because I only held her once, that I don't love her?" Areena's voice rose. Rang. "I'm not her mother. I'm fully aware of that. But there hasn't been a day in twenty-four years that I haven't thought of her."

She stopped herself, seemed to draw in. "But I'm circling the point. I was persuasive as Anja. I know it."

"Yes, very. I didn't recognize you, not physically. Emotions, Areena. Who had the strongest motive, not only to kill him, but to make him pay in front of an audience? To end his life, just as Vole's was ended? Who had been the most betrayed, the most used? Once I eliminated Carly, there was one answer: Anja Carvell."

"If you'd eliminated Carly, why did you put her through that horror?"

"Anja Carvell," Eve went on, ignoring the question. "She struck me as a strong, self-possessed, and very direct woman. But how did she switch the knives? I imagine she'd have found a way, and still it didn't quite work. For one simple reason. She would have needed to hold the knife herself, to strike the blow for the child she'd given up to protect."

"Yes, you're right. I would have left it to no one else."

"When I thought of you and her, I saw it. You changed your look, your voice, your attitude. But there are things you didn't change, or couldn't. There," Eve said, gesturing. "You reach up as you're doing now, toying with a necklace – or as Anja, with the top button of your dress – when you're formulating what you're going to say and how best to say it."

"Such a small thing."

"There are others. They add up. You can change the color, even the shape of your eyes, but not the look in them when your temper spikes or grief grabs you. You couldn't hide the purpose in them, for that one moment, when you locked eyes with Richard onstage. That instant before you killed him. I only had to think of Anja and you to realize you were one person."

"So you outwitted me." Areena got to her feet. "You've solved the puzzle and upheld what you see as justice. Brava, Lieutenant. I imagine you'll sleep the sleep of the righteous tonight."

Eve kept her eyes locked on Areena's. "Peabody, escort Ms. Mansfield to the black-and-white unit waiting outside."

"Yes, sir. Ms. Mansfield?"

"Eve." Roarke murmured it as their footsteps echoed offstage.

She shook her head, knowing she had to hold him off, hold herself together. "Feeney, do we have the full record?"

"Clear as a bell, Dallas, and fully admissible. She waived her rights."

"We're done here. Close it up."

"Will do. Meet you at Central. Good job. Damn good job."

"Yeah." She squeezed her eyes shut as Roarke laid a hand on her shoulder. "Thanks for the help. We got through it. No muss, no fuss."

She resisted when he tried to turn her to face him. He simply stepped around her. "Don't do this."

"I'm fine. I have to go in, deal with this."

"I'll go with you." He tightened his grip when she started to shake her head. "Eve, do you think I would leave you alone at such a time?"

"I said I'm fine."

"Liar."

She gave up, gave in, let him hold her. "I looked at her, I looked in her eyes and I wondered how I would have felt, what it would have been like to have someone care so much about me, someone who'd have done anything to save me from him. And then, looking at her, I trapped her using the thing she loved most."