Peabody was silent for several moments. “Somewhere in there is a lot of good sense.”
“If you tell me I’m sensible in addition to normal and wise, I’m going to punch you in the stomach. I’m as screwed up as the next person, and I like it that way.”
“In many ways, Lieutenant, you’re even more screwed up than the next person. It’s what makes you, you.”
“I think I’ll punch you in the stomach anyway. Put it on my calendar.”
She toyed with double parking, which always put her in a good mood, but found a spot on a street ramp.
The Seventh Avenue building looked ordinary, even shabby, but the security there rivaled that at the U.N.
She passed through the first post, which required her badge, a palm print, and a scan. At the second post a uniformed guard requested her business and a second scan.
She looked around the small lobby with its aging linoleum floor and bare beige walls. “What, you keep government secrets in here?”
“More vital than that, Lieutenant.” The guard offered a slight grimace as he passed her back her ID. “Fashion secrets. Competitors try every damn thing to get a peek. Delivery scams mostly, trying to get up to the design floor carrying deli bags or pizza boxes. But you get some more inventive ones, too. Phoney fire inspector last month. ID cleared, too, but the scan picked up his recorder and we booted him.”
“You on the job?”
“Was.” And he seemed pleased she’d made him. “Put in my twenty-five, most of it out of the one-two. This pays better, and it can get pretty lively around here before the big spring and fall shows.”
“I bet. You know Serena Unger, designer here?”
“I might if you draw me a picture.”
“Tall, thin, black, beautiful. Thirty-two. Short black hair with a reddish overcast, sharp face, long nose. Likes the ladies.”
“Yeah, I know the one you mean. Got a Caribbean accent. You got a line on her?”
“She may be a line to somebody else. There’s a woman she’s playing with. About the same age. Blonde, snazzy looker. Five ten, curvy, slick, and professional. Married. Gates, Julietta.”
“She’s cleared through here a few times. Fashion writer. Seen the two of them go out together. Lunchtime, end of business day. Hold on a minute.”
He turned to his computer, called up his log. “Last, hmm, last eight months by my log, Gates checked in for Unger ten times. Six months before that, six hits for Unger. A once a month deal. Go back four more, you only get two visits.”
“Eighteen months.” She considered the dates of the other murders. “Thanks.”
“Happy to help. Here.” He unlocked a drawer and took out two lapel pins. “Put these on and you’ll clear through the rest of security, no hassle. You want the east elevator bank, fifteenth floor.”
“Appreciate it.”
“No problem. Miss the job sometimes. The rush, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
Fifteen was a working floor with a hive of offices and a huddle of cubes for the drones. Unger didn’t keep them waiting.
“You’re prompt. I appreciate that.” She stepped around her desk to offer a hand. “My day’s stacked.”
“We’ll try to let you get back to it.”
She closed the door, which told Eve she was discreet. It was a corner office, which told Eve she was successful, and it was stylishly decorated with beachy prints rather than fashion posters.
She gestured to two chairs, and took her own behind the desk.
“I have to say I’m a little confused as to why the police would want to talk to me.”
She was good, Eve thought. But not quite good enough. Julietta had talked to her, and she knew exactly why they were there.
“If your day’s stacked, Ms. Unger, why should we waste time doing the routine? Julietta Gates would have told you we’ve spoken to her, and her husband. You look like a bright woman, so you’ve figured out that we know about your relationship with Julietta.”
“I like keeping my personal life personal.” Unger swiveled in her chair, her body language relaxed, her voice cool and calm. “And I don’t see what my relationship with Julietta has to do with your investigation.”
“You don’t have to see. You just have to answer questions.”
Unger’s perfectly arched brows rose into her high forehead. “Well, that’s moving straight to the punch.”
“I’ve got a pretty stacked day myself. You have a sexual relationship with Julietta Gates.”
“We have an intimate relationship, which is different than a sexual one.”
“So you just sit up in your hotel room at the Silby during your lunch breaks and chat?”
Unger’s lips pressed together as insult moved across her face. Then she hissed out a breath. “I don’t like being spied on.”
“I imagine Thomas Breen doesn’t much like being cheated on. We all have to live with what is.”
She took a long breath. “You have a point. Julietta and I have an intimate relationship that includes sex, and one that she prefers her husband remain unaware of.”
“How long have you had this intimate relationship?”
“We’ve known each other, professionally, for about four years. Our relationship began to change about two years ago, though we didn’t become intimate right away.”
“That would have been more like a year and a half ago,” Eve suggested, and Unger set her jaw.
“You’re very thorough. We have a great deal in common, and we’re attracted to each other. Julietta was, and is, restless in her marriage. This was her first affair, and it remains the only time I’ve entered into such a relationship with a married woman, or man for that matter. I don’t like cheating.”
“Must be hard doing something you don’t like for a couple years.”
“It’s not without its difficulties, or its excitement. I won’t deny that. Initially, we just forgot ourselves. But rather than the one-time thing we both assumed it would be, our feelings deepened. I enjoy sex.” She shrugged. “In general, I find women more interesting in bed than men. But with Julietta I found more. A kind of mate.”
“You’re in love with her.”
“I am. I am in love with her, and it’s difficult as we can’t be together openly.”
“She won’t leave her husband.”
“No, she would. But she knows that I won’t be with her if she does.”
“Now you’ve lost me.”
“She has a child. A child deserves to have both of his parents when this is possible. I won’t be a party to removing that child, that innocent, from the security he has now. It’s not the boy’s fault that his mother loves me instead of his father. We’re adults, and responsible.”
“And she doesn’t agree with your stand on this.”
“If Julietta has a flaw, it’s that she’s not as good a mother as she could be. Not as devoted or involved as I think she should be. I’d like to have children one day, and I expect my mate to want and care for the child as I will. From all I know, Thomas Breen is an excellent father, but he can’t be the boy’s mother. Only she can.”
“But he’s not so hot as a husband.”
“As he’s not mine it wouldn’t be accurate or fair for me to judge. But she doesn’t love him, or respect him. She finds him tedious and too easily led.”
“You were with her on the night of September second.”
“Yes, at my apartment. She told her husband she had a late meeting.”
“And you think he’s buying it?”
“She’s careful. He hasn’t confronted her. She would have told me. To be frank, Lieutenant, I think she wishes he would.”
“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.”