"How about in New York? Anybody there?" Sloan asked.
"No." She was talking to Lucas now. "Of the top ten or fifteen models that you hear about, you know, the supermodels, she's like number seven or eight. She was very close to the topmaybe she would have become number one, she had the look for itbut there are other people who really are bigger. Who would be more like to attract a crazy person, if that's what you're thinking."
"We don't know quite what to think yet," Sloan said. "So you don't"
Jael leaned forward, interrupting: "But you know, she had a big following on the Internet. A lot of the you know, engineer-type people were interested in her. They put up Internet pages, or whatever you call them, Websites, with her pictures. Some of them grafted porno pictures on her, so you'd see a woman fucking somebody, and the face would be Alie'e's there are quite a few of those."
"Hmm. Interesting," Sloan said. He looked at Lucas, then back at Jael, and asked, "Did she ever do any porn?"
"No. Of course not. Aside from everything else, she couldn't afford to. If she'd done any porn, the big courtiers would have dropped her like a hot rock."
"Okay How about Lansing? Was she a friend of yours?" Sloan asked.
"No. I knew hershe came to partiesbut she really wasn't part of the I don't know what you'd call it. The art scene? That sounds pretentious and stupid at the same time."
"So she wasn't a friend, but you sort of knew her," Lucas said.
"Yes. She was some kind of hotel executive."
Sloan nodded. "Okay. Let me ask you about your personal relationship with Miz Maison. You were what?"
He let the question hang there, unfinished. Corbeau hesitated for a moment, then said, "We had both a friendship and a sexual relationship. I originally met her in New York. We were both working as modelsthis was before she became as famous as she is was. We were both from Minnesotathat brought us together, and we became friends."
"The relationship continued even after you moved back here? I understand you live here now."
"Yes, although I go to New York every few weeks, to talk with dealers. I represent both myself and several other potters to the New York galleries. I'd usually stay at Alie'e's apartment."
"Not always?"
"Not always. We both continued to have other relationshipswith men as well as women." She was looking at Lucas again. "Neither one of us thought of ourselves as primarily lesbian; we were just very good friends and our friendship had a physical component to it. If she had a man over, then I would stay someplace else. Usually up on Central Park South, so I could walk to the galleries on Fifty-seventh Street and over on Madison Avenue."
"Did you have a sexual encounter with Miz Maison last night at the party?" Sloan asked.
Another quick glance at the lawyer. "Yes."
"You were alone with her?"
"No. There were three of us. The other woman is Catherine Kinsley, who I believe is up north at her cabin with her husband. I haven't been able to reach her." She flushed for the first time. "This is not heavy duty masculine-style sexuality. This is more like cuddling, kissing, talking with each other."
"But there was a physical component."
"Yes."
"What happened afterwards? How was she when you left?"
"Sleepy. We were all sleepy, but she'd gotten up very early for her photo shoot, and had to get up the next day, and SillySilly Hansonsaid she could sleep there, and so we left her. She was okay."
"And neither you nor Miz Kinsley saw her again."
"No. Well, I don't know if Catherine saw her, because, like I said, I haven't been able to reach her this morning. I couldn't find her number, and I don't know exactly where the cabin is. Anyway, I don't think she saw her. We walked out to our cars together, said good-bye, and I went home. Your police people woke me up."
"Miz Maison injected heroin around the time of your encounter. Were you present for that?"
"No." Quick and definite, Lucas thought. She'd known the question was coming.
Sloan continued. "You didn't know that she was using heroin?"
A slight hesitation, another glance at the attorney, and, "I thought she might be tripping when we met in the bedroom. She was languid. She was the way you get when you're using. But I wasn't there when she injected, and I don't think she had much, because she didn't fall asleep or anything, not while we were there. It was more like a a party favor."
"A party favor," Lucas said.
"Yeah. That's what people call them. Some people call them short popsyou know, if you want the effect but don't want to get addicted."
"You get addicted anyway," Sloan said.
Corbeau flipped her head. "You know that's not true. That's just a political position."
Sloan looked at Lucas, who raised his eyebrows, and Sloan said, "I'm not here to argue with you, but just for the record, Miz Corbeau: Short pops will addict you as fast as anything. Believe me or don't believe me. But that's the way it is."
She shook her head, and Sloan said, "I don't want to embarrass you, but I've got to ask this question. The medical examiner tells us that Miz Maison has small light scratches around her vulva, and light bruising, as if she'd been involved in a fairly active. sexual encounter involving manual stimulation and perhaps oral stimulation Would that have characterized your encounter?"
She flushed again, looked at them quickly, one at a time, taking them in. Lucas, still feeling the effect she had on his breathing, squirmed; he felt like a pervert. She didn't help; she asked, "Do you guys get off on this sort of thing?"
Sloan, his face a monk's stolid mask, shook his head. "Sitting in a room like this, full of metal tables and tile floors, this is not very sexual, Miz Corbeau. We need to know, because we need to know if she had another sexual contact after yours, or if yours was most likely the cause of the scratching and bruising. Miz Maison was strangled, which frequently is associated with sexual activity."
"Okay," she said. "Yes, it's possible that she was scratched. Especially by Catherine. Catherine can be a little rough, and she had long nails. I keep mine very short because of my job."
"You're a potter."
"Yes."
"And you had nothing to do with the death of Alie'e Maison?"
"No, I did not." She bit her lip as the words came out, and her chin trembled. To Lucas, she seemed shaken.
"Do you think your brother might have?" Lucas interjected.
She looked at him, a frown flickering across her face, and then said, "No. If Amnon was going to go after somebody, it'd be me."
"Why you?"
"We have a personal problem."
"He told us about your relationship," Lucas said. "You think that could turn to violence? The breakup?"
She turned away, looking at the floor, twisting her fingers together. "Amnon has violence in him. He wouldn't have killed Alie'e, because he had no regard for her. He didn't care about her. You'd have to have some feeling for a person before you killed her, wouldn't you?"
"No," Lucas said. "Not if you're psychologically disturbed. People who are disturbed may kill to change the way they feel about something. The person killed may be a complete stranger, if the killing somehow medicates the disturbed person."
"God, that's awful."
"Yes. Your brother?"
"No. He's not disturbed that way. I know him well enough to say that."
"How did you get your names?" Swanson asked.
"Our parents were hippies, they went from one thing to another, and they eventually tried out Judaism. Amnon and I were born during that period. They're Bible names."
"I'm a Catholic," Lucas said. "We weren't big on Bibles when I was a kid. Do the names mean something?"