Franny Futura was standing at the foot of the platform staircase when Mallory approached him from behind. „I had dinner with Malakhai last night,“ she said. „I know what happened at Faustine’s.“
Futura turned around to face her, his hands opening and closing in nervous fidgets. „I don’t – “
„It’s all right, Franny.“ Nick Prado appeared at the foot of the staircase and smiled at Mallory. „Emile and I had brunch with Malakhai this morning. I wonder why he didn’t mention that conversation.“
„Well, his memory isn’t what it used to be.“ There was an unmistakable subtext in Mallory’s voice, but Riker could not follow its meaning. She was clearly disappointed in Prado’s response when the man shrugged it off.
As she moved closer to Futura, the man’s head was backing away, comically attenuating his skinny neck, while his feet remained rooted to the floor.
„Malakhai didn’t tell me how you got rid of the body,“ said Mallory. „What did you do with her?“
Riker felt sorry for Mallory’s target, but he knew she was onto something. Futura’s mouth hung open – stunned speechless.
Nick Prado answered for him. „We buried her in the cellar.“
Futura nodded with a sickly smile. „It’s not as if we killed the old lady.“
It was Mallory’s turn to be surprised. „Old lady?“
Prado grinned to show her every tooth he owned. „Oliver’s grandmother, Faustine. I can assure you she died of natural causes.“
„And that’s why you hid the body in the cellar?“ Mallory waved one hand in the air. „Of course.“
„Well, we did neglect to inform the authorities when she died.“ Prado’s tone was casual, as if covert burials were an everyday thing with him. „We needed her pension money to pay rent on the theater. She was Oliver’s grandmother. If he didn’t mind, why should you?“
„Fine, I don’t care if you had the old woman stuffed and mounted. Let’s talk about Louisa.“ She was speaking only to Futura, and now the man got control of his feet and stepped back. Mallory moved a step closer. „I’m betting you were the informer, the one who turned her in.“
Riker shook his head. This bluff was miles too obvious, not Mallory’s style at all.
„I wouldn’t give odds on that bet.“ Nick Prado stepped between Mallory and Futura. His smile was easy and affable. „You’d have a fifty-fifty chance of being right. At least half of Paris was collaborating with the Germans.“
Riker repressed a smile. Nick Prado had just confirmed Louisa Malakhai’s status in the scheme of war. Mallory had pegged this man right, the ultimate egoist. He would never miss a chance to play a fast round of one-upmanship.
„That’s right,“ she said. „But the Germans didn’t kill her.“ Mallory was still looking at Futura, or what she could see of him behind Prado’s back.
Then Futura straightened his spine and held his head a bit higher, braver now that another man had joined them. The larger, more placid Emile St. John rested one massive hand on Futura’s slight shoulder, playing the role of protector.
Riker felt an odd affinity for St. John, who walked about in a portable atmosphere of tranquillity, affecting everyone in his sphere – except Mallory.
Of course. St. John shared this trait with her late foster father. Did Mallory see it, too?
„Louisa’s death was an accident,“ said St. John. „It wasn’t – “
„You mean the magic-bullet trick?“ Mallory shifted her position to one side of Nick Prado. And now she had a clear bead on Futura again. „The gun trick adapted for the crossbow? No, an arrow didn’t kill Louisa.“
Futura was slightly off balance, not cocking his head in his habitual startled-bird fashion, but leaning his whole body to one side, and even St. John had been caught off guard. But not Prado, whose smile never wavered.
Mallory skirted around Prado to get to Futura. „Did Louisa know she was going to be shot for real? Did she know Malakhai was using a loaded crossbow?“
Futura took this as a physical jolt. His head moved somewhere between a wobble and a shake of denial. „If she knew, she was a wonderful actress.“ He looked up at St. John. „Remember her face, Emile? She was stunned.“
Riker decided this might be a bad time to remind Mallory that she had been forbidden to conduct interviews. A loud squeal of electronic feedback called his attention up to the smaller stage on top of the platform.
Oliver Tree’s attorney was standing behind the microphone on the auctioneer’s podium. „May I have your attention?“ The bald head was shining with reflections from a bank of overhead lights. Though he must weigh three hundred pounds, no one would call him a fat man; money had cured that glaring flaw. An expanse of dark suit material elegantly draped his wide girth with the genius lines of Armani. „We’ll end the intermission in a few minutes. If you would all take your seats?“
Mallory walked to the foot of the platform staircase and held up her gold shield. „First I want a look at the room inside this box. Are you the executor? Atkins?“
„Ye-e-es.“ Only a man with a Park Avenue address could put that many syllables into a three-letter word. And by his attitude, it was clear that she should address him as Mr. Atkins. The attorney walked down the short flight of stairs on tiny mincing patent-leather feet so incongruous with his mass. Waving her identification away with one white hand of glittering jewels, he made a point of not meeting her eyes. He addressed the air above her head: „I know who you are. You’re the balloon shooter. I’ve already spoken with the other detective – Riker, was it?“
The lawyer’s tone was clear – Riker should substitute the word riffraff for his own name.
Atkins wagged one finger at Mallory in the gesture of admonishing a child. „No one but the buyer may inspect the platform’s interior room.“
„This is police business,“ said Mallory – substitute the words, You prick.
„Do you have a warrant? No? I didn’t think so.“ The lawyer turned around, and in the manner of a large dark ship leaving the harbor, he grandly sailed across the stage.
She called after him, „Atkins? This platform ties into a homicide.“
And now she had everyone’s attention. Thirty heads were turning in her direction.
The attorney was smiling when he turned around. „But no warrant?“ He sailed back across the stage and docked in front of her, this time deigning to look into her eyes. „However, I’m sure your little comment did raise the bidding considerably. You want to make a scene? Go ahead. Rant and rave about murder, and I might cut you in for a small percentage.“
„Sounds like a bribe to me, Counselor.“
Atkins snorted and covered his mouth with one hand. His fingers sparkled with the large gemstones of four rings. „You’ll have to do better than that, Detective.“ His tone implied that this was obscene wealth and power speaking, so she would have to do a lot better.
Mallory pointed at the crossbows. „Do you have a license to sell firearms?“ She smiled. „No? Then I’ll have to stop the auction.“
The attorney only raised one eyebrow. „Don’t even repeat that threat. Oliver Tree had a special permit signed by the mayor. Executor’s privilege extends that license to the disposal of his effects.“
Riker thought that had the sound of a lawyer’s bluff, but Mallory, a consummate card shark, showed no signs of calling him on it. She seemed distracted by the table display of prop weapons. „I’ve seen the permit, Atkins. I know it doesn’t cover the sale of guns.“