Eve came closer, sat in one of the wide brown chairs. "I can't think of any reason why you should be."
"My father wants a public show of strength." Mirina turned her face to the window. "I'm letting him down. Appearances are important to my father."
"Was your mother important to him?"
"Yes. Their personal and professional lives were twined together. The divorce didn't change that. He's hurting." She drew in a shaky breath. "He won't show it because he's too proud, but he's hurting. He loved her. We all loved her."
"Ms. Angelini, tell me about your mother's mood, what you spoke of, who you spoke of, the last time you had contact."
"The day before she died we were on the 'link for an hour, maybe more. Wedding plans." Tears dripped out and spilled over the pale cheeks. "We were both so full of wedding plans. I'd send her transmissions of dresses: wedding dresses, mother-of-the-bride ensembles. Randall was designing them. We talked about clothes. Doesn't that seem shallow, Lieutenant, that the last time I'll ever speak with my mother, I spoke of fashion?"
"No, it doesn't seem shallow. It seems friendly. Loving."
Mirina pressed a hand to her lips. "Do you think?"
"Yes, I do."
"What do you talk to your mother about?"
"I don't have a mother. I never did."
Mirina blinked, focused again. "How odd. What does it feel like?"
"I…" There was no way to describe what simply was. "It wouldn't be the same for you, Ms. Angelini," Eve said gently. "When you were speaking to your mother, did she mention anything, anyone who was concerning her?"
"No. If you're thinking about her work, we rarely talked of it. I wasn't very interested in the law. She was happy, excited that I was coming over for a few days. We laughed a lot. I know she had this image, her professional image, but with me, with the family she was… softer, looser. I teased her about George, saying that Randy could design her wedding dress while he was doing mine."
"Her reaction?"
"We just laughed. Mama liked to laugh," she said, a little dreamy now as the tranq began to work. "She said she was having too much fun being mother of the bride to spoil it with the headaches of being a bride herself. She was very fond of George, and I think they were good together. But I don't suppose she loved him."
"Don't you?"
"Why, no." There was a faint smile on her lips, a glassy gleam to her eyes. "When you love someone, you have to be with them, don't you? To be part of their life, to have them be part of yours. She wasn't looking for that with George. With anyone."
"Was Mr. Hammett looking for that with her?"
"I don't know. If he was, he was happy enough to let their relationship drift. I'm drifting now," she murmured. "I don't feel as though I'm here at all."
Because she needed Mirina to hold off on the float a bit longer, Eve rose to request water from the console. Carrying the glass back, she pushed it into Mirina's hands.
"Did that relationship cause problems between him and your father? Between your mother and father?"
"It… was awkward, but not uncomfortable." Mirina smiled again. She was sleepy now, so relaxed she could have folded her arms on the window ledge and slipped away. "That sounds contradictory. You'd have to know my father. He would refuse to let it bother him, or at least to let it affect him. He's still friendly with George."
She blinked down at the glass in her hand as if she'd just realized it was there, and took a delicate sip. "I don't know how he might have felt if they had decided to marry, but well, that isn't an issue now."
"Are you involved in your father's business, Ms. Angelini?"
"In the fashion arm. I do all the buying for the shops in Rome and Milan, have the final say as to what's exported to our shops in Paris and New York and so forth. Travel a bit to attend shows, though I don't care much for traveling. I hate going off planet, don't you?"
Eve realized she was losing her. "I haven't done it."
"Oh, it's horrid. Randy likes it. Says it's an adventure. What was I saying?" She pushed a hand through her lovely golden hair, and Eve rescued the glass before it could tumble to the floor. "About the buying. I like to buy clothes. Other aspects of the business never interested me."
"Your parents and Mr. Hammett were all stockholders in a company called Mercury."
"Of course. We use Mercury exclusively for our shipping needs." Her eyelids drooped. "It's fast, dependable."
"There were no problems that you know of, in that or any other of your family holdings?"
"No, none at all."
It was time to try a different tack. "Was your mother aware of Randall Slade's gambling debts?"
For the first time Mirina showed a spark of life, and the life was anger, flashing in the pale eyes. She seemed to snap awake. "Randall's debts were not my mother's concern, but his, and mine. We're dealing with them."
"You didn't tell her?"
"There was no reason to worry her about something that was being handled. Randall has a problem with gambling, but he's gotten help. He doesn't wager anymore."
"The debts are considerable?"
"They're being paid," Mirina said hollowly. "Arrangements have been made."
"Your mother was a wealthy woman in her own right. You'll inherit a large portion of her estate."
Either the tranqs or grief dulled Mirina's wits. She seemed oblivious to the implication. "Yes, but I won't have my mother, will I? I won't have Mama. When I marry Randall, she won't be there. She won't be there," she repeated, and began to weep quietly.
David Angelini wasn't fragile. His emotions showed themselves in stiff impatience with undercurrents of chained rage. For all appearances, this was a man insulted at the very idea that he would be expected to speak to a cop.
When Eve sat across from him in Whitney's office, he answered her questions briefly in a clipped, cultured voice.
"Obviously it was some maniac she'd prosecuted who did this to her," he stated. "Her work brought her entirely too close to violence."
"Did you object to her work?"
"I didn't understand why she loved it. Why she needed it." He lifted the glass he'd brought with him and drank. "But she did, and in the end, it killed her."
"When did you see her last?"
"On March eighteenth. My birthday."
"Did you have contact with her since then?"
"I spoke with her about a week before she died. Just a family call. We never went more than a week without speaking."
"How would you describe her mood?"
"Obsessed – with Mirina's wedding. My mother never did things by halves. She was planning the wedding as meticulously as she did any of her criminal cases. She was hoping it would rub off on me."
"What would?"
"The wedding fever. My mother was a romantic woman under the prosecutor's armor. She hoped I would find the right mate and make a family. I told her I'd leave that to Mirina and Randy and stay married to business awhile."
"You're actively involved in Angelini Exports. You'd be aware of the financial difficulties."
His face tightened. "They're blips, Lieutenant. Bumps. Nothing more."
"My information indicates there are more serious difficulties than blips and bumps."
"Angelini is solid. There's simply a need for some reorganization, some diversification, which is being done." He flicked a hand, elegant fingers, a sparkle of gold. "A few key people have made unfortunate mistakes that can and will be rectified. And that has nothing to do with my mother's case."
"It's my job to explore all angles, Mr. Angelini. Your mother's estate is substantial. Your father will come into a number of holdings, as will you."
David got to his feet. "You're speaking of my mother. If you suspect that anyone in the family would cause her harm, then Commander Whitney has made a monstrous error in judgment putting you in charge of the investigation."
"You're entitled to your opinion. Do you gamble, Mr. Angelini?"