“Good point. But, if someone did, can you tell?”
“I can check the digi-log. It would have a record of the last use, the coordinates, the time elapsed.”
“Really?”
“A new toy,” Violet admitted with a grin. “Phillip got it for me for my birthday last month. Hardly something I need on a pleasure boat, but he knows I love Simone, and I enjoy gadgets.”
“Can we check your gadget?”
“Why not? Come on board. The galley’s always stocked,” Violet said as she stepped nimbly from the dock to the boat. “Can I offer you anything?”
“We’re fine, thanks.”
“Gosh, it’s beautiful.” Peabody brushed her fingers over the trim. “I don’t really know much about boats, but I know wood. This is really gorgeous.”
“Reclaimed teak. We do a lot of entertaining on her in the summer. She’ll sleep eight if we want to make a weekend of it with friends.”
She climbed up a narrow flight of stairs, entered another code at a glass-fronted door.
Though the room looked like a command center, it held an old-fashioned ship’s wheel—the helm, Eve supposed.
And a view out the wide ribbon of glass of the harbor.
Eve tried not to think about the way the floor swayed, gently, under her feet.
“Here now.” Violet moved to the right. “Gadgets. Sonar, which is fun for tracking schools of fish, or whales if we take her out far enough. Various global weather stations. And this is the digi-log.” She opened a counter screen, spoke her name, the name of the boat. “Phillip had this voice-activated, for fun.
“Display full log,” she ordered. “You’ll see,” she said to Eve, “we haven’t been able to take her out much since … This doesn’t make sense.”
It did to Eve. “Am I reading this right? The boat was taken out yesterday morning zero-one-sixteen and returned to dock just over an hour later at zero-two-twenty-two. For a total of two-point-six miles. And this is the average speed?”
“Yes, the knots.” Violet pulled off her cap, raked her fingers through her hair. “This is very upsetting.”
“And these numbers, the coordinates? That’s where the boat was taken, how it got there.”
“Yes, yes. Damn it. I’m going to be speaking to marina security about this. If someone on staff decided they could help themselves to Simone, they’re going to find out differently.”
“Maybe you want to check the boat,” Peabody suggested. “Just to make sure nothing’s been disturbed, or nothing’s been taken.”
“God. Yes, of course. Damn it!” As she strode out, she dragged out her ’link. Eve heard her say, “Phillip, someone’s been at Simone. No, no, she’s fine. I have the police right here.”
“He didn’t know about the gadget,” Eve said. “It’s new. I bet he knew she was in Baltimore, knew the boat would be here. Knew how to get through the gate, through the door, and start her up.”
“They used to be lovers,” Peabody whispered. “She lied for him once that we know of, in an official inquiry.”
“Because—my read—she was young, grateful, naive. And whether she knew it or can admit it, felt obligated because he gave her the money for the consultant—was supporting her for the role she wanted. She told us about it too easily—no worries, no evasions.”
“Yeah.” Peabody glanced toward the wheelhouse door. “He’d have had no reason to give her a warning about it. She wouldn’t have expected to be asked after all this time. She looked surprised, but not scared.”
“She’s probably changed security measures since they had any sexual deal going. She’s cohabbed for a couple years with this Phillip guy. But Steinburger would have been on board since. He’s a friend, and he has a boat of his own.”
Eve went out and down, then down again when she heard rummaging belowdecks.
“Everything seems to be as it should be.” Violet stood in an organized galley kitchen, mixing a drink. “I’m having a Bloody Mary. I’m so mad! Phillip’s on his way. He’s a man you can count on.”
“You said only the two of you had access, but what about emergencies? Marina security.”
“Yes, yes, I didn’t think. They have emergency bypass access.”
“And you said you often entertain on board. Maybe some of your friends and family know the codes.”
“Maybe, maybe.” She took a quick drink. “But they’re friends. They’re family. If any of them wanted to use the boat, they’d ask. They’d hardly skulk around the marina in the middle of the night when they’d only have to contact me to get clearance.”
“Have you entertained any of the cast and crew on the Icove vid on board?”
Violet lowered her glass. “You think this incident is somehow related to the murder? That’s … I want some air.”
She moved past Eve and Peabody and went up on deck.
Eve gave her a minute, then followed. “Did you have a party on board for some of the cast and crew?”
“Connie and I are friends. I adore Roundtree. Andi and I have gotten friendly, as well, now that we don’t compete for the same roles with regularity as we once did.”
She sat, sipping at her drink. “I’d met Julian before, and found him just adorable. And Joel and I were, as you know, very friendly once upon a time. We’ve remained friends. Phillip and I hosted a harbor party on Simone at the end of August. They were all here, and K.T., Marlo Durn, Matthew Zank—several others. We did an overnight for a smaller group. Connie and Roundtree, Joel, Andi—we all have boats, you see. We’re all sailors. I don’t see how this applies to a murder.”
“It’s a detail we need to follow up on. Have any of them been on board since that party?”
“Ah.” She rubbed her forehead. “There’s rarely time for too many parties when you’re in the middle of shooting a project. Connie and I had lunch on deck one afternoon last month, I think. We didn’t take her out. Just had a fancy ladies’ lunch catered, here in the marina. And, oh, I lent her to Joel a few weeks ago. He wanted to take some of the money people out, and was looking at renting a boat. I told him not to be silly, he could use Simone.”
“You had to give him the codes.”
“Yes, I suppose I did. I meant to change them, just a matter of course. But I’ve been busy with the new series, and it slipped my mind. Besides, as I said, Joel—none of them—would have any reason to sneak in here and take her out in the middle of the night.”
“Just a detail,” Eve said easily. “We appreciate your time, and your cooperation. Before we go, I’d like to make a copy of your digi-log.”
“Please do. Shouldn’t you look for fingerprints?”
Eve smiled. “I think the log copy will be enough. Since we’re here, why don’t we just get that correction for the record.”
“Thirty years ago,” Violet began. “Really, is it necessary?”
“Just to keep the record clean. Peabody, why don’t you go make that copy while I take care of this.”
Once done, they left Violet brooding over her Bloody Mary.
“Peabody.”
“I know, get the log data to the water cops, coordinate with them about pinning the dump location, sending divers down.”
“Make it their priority,” Eve added. “We got the first sliver, sliver and more with her recanting his alibi for the night of Caulfield’s death.”
“He planned all that in advance. Set it up, lavishing the attention, the consultant—who, yeah, I’ll track down—the clothes, and dangling a big part in front of a young, hungry actress.”
“Who was probably half in love with him,” Eve added. “Reo’s going to like it. And locating the dumped electronics would be a really nice boost. We’ll get the search warrant.”
“It was just luck she had that digi-log deal.”
“Steinburger’s had luck his way long enough. Without the log deal, there’d have been something else. Fuel consumption, something. I want a couple of cops to canvass the marina, see if anybody saw Steinburger—saw anything. And I want EDD to check out the gate security. She needed to swipe as well as code to get us in there. Let’s see how he pulled that off.”