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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 peak. 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.”
