J. Robb - Fantasy in Death

“We’ll resist scratching in inappropriate places.”

He sniffed, turned his back, then led them across the open foyer with its central pool of Venus-blue water guarded by some sort of metal sculpture of a mostly naked female poised to dive in.

The glass-walled anteroom held twin gel sofas in glittery silver with murder-red cushions, chairs in a dizzying pattern of both colors. All the tables were clear glass. Some held gardens of strange blooms winding in their bases. From the ceiling a tangle of steel and glass formed chandeliers. The floors were the same tone and texture as the exterior steel.

Eve tried to think if she’d ever seen a more hyper-trendy and less comfortable room, but couldn’t come up with one.

“Wait here,” Derby ordered. When he left, Eve walked to the front wall.

Yes, it definitely made her feel exposed.

“Why would anybody want nothing but a sheet of fancy glass between them and the rest of the world?” She managed a shrug instead of a shudder, then turned away. “Impressions?”

Peabody circled her eyes as if to remind Eve they were being recorded. “Um. It’s really clean? And quiet. You can’t hear any street noises at all.” She gestured to the window. “It’s kind of like a vid with the audio muted.”

“Or we’ve stepped into an alternate universe where the world outside this glass is soundless. And creepy.”

“Well, it’s creepy now.” Then Peabody winced, circled her eyes again. “But really clean.”

Eve turned again at the sound of footsteps-a man’s, and from the click-click, a woman’s heels.

She noted the woman first, and realized the new wife had modeled for the mostly naked sculpture in the foyer. Now she wore a short summer dress that matched the soft blue of her eyes and the current rage of footwear that left the top of the foot unshod. Her toes sported polish in various pastel shades. Her hair fell in a tumble of red with gilded highlights around a face dominated by full, pouty lips.

Beside her the man stood nondescript in a conservatively cut business suit. Still, his jaw held firm, and his burnished brown eyes matched his sweeping mane of hair.

His slightly crooked tie and the slumber-satisfied look in his wife’s eyes gave Eve a solid clue what the couple had been up to during her arrival.

“Lieutenant Dallas, is it, and Detective Peabody.” DuVaugne crossed the room to give them both a hearty handshake. “What can I do for you?”

“We’re investigating the murder of Bart Minnock.”

“Ah.” He gave a wise nod, a regretful sigh. “Yes, I heard about that. The media doesn’t have many details.”

“You were acquainted with Mr. Minnock?”

“No, not really. I knew of him, of course, as we’re in the same business.”

“Geezy, honey, you gotta ask them to sit down. Tsk.”

She actually said “Tsk,” and with the heavy Bronx base struggling to affect the rounded tones of her droid, Eve found it rather remarkable.

“I’m Taija. Mrs. Lane DuVaugne. Please, won’t you sit?” She gestured the way screen models did to showcase prizes on game shows. “I’d be happy to order some refreshments.”

“Thanks.” Eve accepted the invitation to sit. “We’re fine. So you never met Bart Minnock?”

“Oh, I believe we met a time or two.” DuVaugne took a seat on the red and silver sofa with his wife. “At conventions and events, that sort of thing. He seemed to be a bright and affable young man.”

“Then why did somebody kill him?” Taija asked.

“Good question,” Eve said, and made Taija beam like a student flattered by a favored teacher.

“If you don’t ask questions, you don’t find anything out.”

“My philosophy. Let me apply that by asking you, Mr. DuVaugne, if you can verify your whereabouts yesterday between three and seven p.m.”

“Mine? Are you implying I’m a suspect?” Outrage sprang out where, Eve thought, puzzlement would have been a better lead. “Why, I barely knew the man.”

“Geezy, Lane wouldn’t kill anybody. He’s gentle as a lamb.”

“It’s standard procedure. As you said, Mr. DuVaugne, you and the victim were in the same line of work.”

“That’s hardly a motive for murder! Countless people in this city alone are in the gaming business, but you come into my home and demand I answer your questions.”

“Now, now, honey.” Taija stroked his arm. “Don’t get all worked up. You know it’s not good for you. And she’s being real polite. You’re always saying people need to do the jobs they’re paid to do and all that. Especially public servants. You’re a public servant, right?” she asked Eve.

“That’s right.”

“Anyway, honey, you know you were at work until nearly four. He works so hard,” she confided to Eve. “And then you came right home and we had our little lie-down before we got dressed for the dinner party at Rob and Sasha’s. It was a really nice party.”

“Taija, it’s a matter of principle.”

“There, there,” she said, stroking. “Now, now.”

DuVaugne took a slow, audible breath. “Taija, I think I’d like my evening martini.”

“Sure, honey, I’ll go tell Derby to mix you one right up. ’Scuze… I mean, please excuse me a minute.”

After she’d clicked out, DuVaugne turned to Eve. “My wife is naive in certain areas.”

Maybe, Eve thought, but she also came off as sincere, and absurdly likeable.

“Naive enough not to understand ‘working hard’ includes you paying a con man for confidential information on the workings and projects of U-Play? We have Dubrosky in custody,” Eve said before he could speak. “He rolled on you.”

“I have no idea what or who you’re talking about. Now, I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“Peabody, read Mr. DuVaugne his rights.”

While he blustered, Peabody recited the Revised Miranda. “Do you understand your rights and obligations in this matter?” Peabody finished.

“This is beyond belief!” His face burned bright red as he shoved to his feet. “I’m calling my lawyer.”

“Fine. Tell him to meet us down at Cop Central.” Cool and calm in contrast, Eve rose. “Where you can chill in Holding until he arrives, at which time we’ll filter our questions through your representative on both matters-your involvement in corporate espionage and your connection to Bart Minnock’s murder.”

“Just a minute, just one damn minute. I was nowhere near Minnock’s apartment yesterday. I’ve never been to his apartment.”

“You’ve requested a lawyer, Mr. DuVaugne,” Eve reminded him. “We’re obliged to wait until your representative meets with you before we take any statements or continue this interview. We’ll hold you at Central prior to that, and prior to booking you on the pending charges.”

“Arresting me? You’re arresting me? Wait. Just wait.” He didn’t sweat like Roland, but his hand trembled as he pushed it through his glossy mane of hair. “We’ll hold on the lawyer; we’ll keep this here.”

“That’s your choice.”

“Martinis!” Taija announced in a bright singsong as she preceded Derby into the room. “Let’s all sit down and have a nice drink. Oh, honey, look at you! All red in the face.” She walked over, patted his cheeks. “Derby, pour the drinks. Mr. DuVaugne needs a little pick-me-up.”

“Give me that.” DuVaugne grabbed the oversized shaker, dumped the contents into a glass to the rim. Then downed it.

“Oops! You forgot the olives. Derby, pour our guests drinks.”

“We’re not allowed to drink on duty, Mrs. DuVaugne, but thanks.”

Taija’s mouth turned down in a sympathetic frown. “Geezy, that doesn’t seem fair.”

“Taija, go upstairs. I have business to discuss here.”