«That doesn't answer my question.»
«I don't understand the question.»
«What do you know about projects your husband and father-in-law kept off the books, so to speak?»
There were still tears but they were just glimmering now, blurring the eyes, the voice. «I don't know what you mean.»
«I'm interested in a long-term private project, one your husband and your father-in-law have been pursuing, actively. One that would require extensive facilities—in or outside the center. One that involves treatment of young women.»
Two tears spilled over, and for a moment, just an instant, those lavender eyes were clear. Something was in them, something sharp and cool. Then it was gone, wavering behind another shimmer of tears.
«I'm sorry. I don't know anything about it. I wasn't involved in Will's work. Are you saying you think his work is somehow responsible for his death?»
Eve changed tacks. «Who has the security code for this house?»
«Ah… Will and myself, of course. His father—his father did. The domestics.»
«Anyone else?»
«No. Will was very cautious about security. We changed the codes every few weeks. A bother,» she said with the barest hint of a smile. «I'm not very good with numbers.»
«How was your marriage, Mrs. Icove?»
«How was my marriage?»
«Any problems? Friction? Was your husband faithful?»
«Of course he was faithful.» Avril turned her head away. «What a terrible thing to ask.»
«Whoever killed your husband was either let into the house or knew the codes. A man, under stress, might send his wife and children out of town for a day or two in order to spend time with a lover.»
«I was his only lover.» Avril's voice dropped to a whisper. «I was what he wanted. He was devoted. A loving husband and father, a dedicated doctor. He would never hurt me or the children. He would never stain our marriage with infidelity.»
«I'm sorry. I know this is difficult.»
«It doesn't seem real. It doesn't seem possible. Is there something I should do now? I don't know what I should do.»
«We'll need to take your husband's body in, for examination.»
Avril winced at that. «Autopsy.»
«Yes.»
«I know you have to. I don't like the thought of it, of what will happen. One of the reasons we rarely discussed Will's work was because I don't like the thought of the… the cutting and lasering.»
«Squeamish? A doctor's wife—and a woman who likes crime drama.»
There was a hesitation before that ghost of a smile. «I guess I like the end results, but could do without the blood. Do I have to sign anything?»
«No. Not now. Is there anyone you'd like us to call for you? Anyone you'd want to contact?»
«No. There's no one. I have to get back to my children.» Her hands came out of her lap, pressed to her lips as they trembled. «My babies. I have to tell my babies. I have to take care of them. How will I ever explain?»
«Do you want a grief counselor?»
Avril hesitated again, then shook her head. «No, not now. I think they'll need me. Just me, for now. Me, and time. I have to go to my children.»
«I'll arrange to have you escorted back.» Eve got to her feet. «I'm gong to need you to stay available, Mrs. Icove.»
«Of course. Of course I will. We'll stay in the Hamptons tonight. Away from the city. Away from this. The media, they won't leave us alone, but it'll be better there. I don't want the children exposed. Will would want me to shield the children.»
«Do you need anything from here?»
«No. We have all we need.»
Eve watched her go, drive away in the sedan, this time with a police escort.
When she was satisfied with her on-site, Eve gestured to Peabody. «My home office is closer. I'm going to write the report from there, and arrange for your transport home.»
«You want me with you?»
«For the moment.» She headed out to her car, handing Peabody the record of her interview with Avril Icove. «Listen to it, then give me your impressions.»
«Sure.»
Peabody settled into the car, switching the replay on as Eve drove.
Eve drove through her own gates, listening to Avril's voice, her own questions.
«Shaky,» Peabody said. «Teary, but holding up.»
«What's missing?»
«She never asked how he died.»
«Never asked how, never asked where or why or who. And never asked to see him.»
«Which is strange, I grant you. But shock can make for strange.»
«What's the number-one question a shocked family member asks when informed?»
«Number one's probably: Are you sure?»
«She never asks, never insists on proof. She starts off with the 'Was there an accident?' routine, fumbles around to find her balance. Okay on that. She was shaking when I took her in, that works, too. But she never asks how he died.»
«Because she knew? That's reaching, Dallas.»
«Maybe. She never asked how we got in—how we found him. Never said: 'Oh God, was there a break-in, a burglary?' Never asked it he went out and got himself mugged. I never told her he was killed in the house. But if you watch her face on the record, she looked through the doorway toward the stairs going up several times. She knew he was dead up there. I didn't have to tell her.»
«We can verify whether or not she was where she said she was during the time frame.»
«She'll have been there. She had that pat. She'll be alibied tight. But she's in this somewhere.»
They sat in front of the house, Eve frowning through the windshield.
«Maybe he was catting around on her,» Peabody suggested. «She uses what happened to his father as inspiration, and gets somebody to off him. Maybe she was doing the catting, and figured she could lap up more cream with him dead. Gets her lover the security code, clears his voice print prior. He sticks the husband, mimicking the MO from the first murder.»
«Where'd the tray of fruit and cheese come from?»
«Shit, Dallas. Icove could've ordered himself a snack.»
«Came from the kitchen unit. I checked.»
«So.»
«So why go downstairs, order a snack, haul it up. You want a snack, use the office AutoChef.»
«Lee-Lee Ten,» Peabody reminded her. «Maybe it's like that. Maybe he likes to putter in the kitchen when he's got something on his mind.»
«He's no kitchen putterer. She might be, Avril, but not him. Not Dr. Will.»
«He could've been downstairs, decided to go up. Ordered it to take up with him. Gets up there, decides, I'm not hungry right now, stretches out, falls asleep. Wife's handsome yet sleazy lover slips into the house, goes up, goes in, shoves the scalpel into his heart, takes the disc, resets security, and walks away.»
Eve made a noncommittal sound. «We'll talk to friends and neighbors and associates, check her personal finances again, go through her routines.»
«But you don't like my handsome-yet-sleazy-lover angle.»
«I don't discount the handsome yet sleazy lover. But if so, they moved damn fast to have it this smooth. I'm betting this was planned as carefully, and as much in advance, as the old doc's. Same people, same motive behind both.»
«Maybe Dolores is her handsome yet sleazy lover.»
«Maybe. In any case, we look at Avril, and find the link.»
Eve pushed open her door. «Take the vehicle. Come back at seven hundred. We'll put in a couple hours here before we go into Central.»
Peabody checked her wrist unit. «Wow! Looks like I may get five hours' sleep.»
«You want sleep? Sell shoes.»
Eve wasn't surprised to find Summerset, still fully dressed, in the foyer. «Icove's son's now as dead as he is.» She peeled off her coat, tossed it over the newel post. «You really want to help, turn up the soft glow of memory light and look back hard. He was into something.»
«Must everyone you see carry stains?»
She glanced back as she walked upstairs. «Yeah. If you want to find out who killed him more than you want to canonize him, you'll look for them, too.»