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Anders, Thomas A., she thought. Age sixty-one, wealthy and successful. Married, no children. Loving uncle to his only nephew, who stands as a major heir and su
ccessor. Enjoyed sports and electronic toys—and according to his spouse, kinky sex. Staunch friend. Fair employer. Golf dates, tennis dates, season tickets to every sport known to man. Boxed seats.
Swiveling away from the murder board she brought the file up on her computer, flipped through for the crime scene photos not on the board, then studied her own record of the victim’s closet/dressing room area.
Suits, sure. Looked like maybe a dozen. Two tuxes. Dress shirts, ties. Yeah, yeah. All that took up one wall of the room. The short wall. And filling the two longer walls were the casual clothes, the sports clothes. Golf pants, khakis, sports shirts, shorts, track pants, sweatshirts. And in the drawers, what had she seen when she’d opened the drawers?
Dress socks, she recalled, pulling it into her head. High-end sweaters—the cashmere, the merino wool, the alpaca. Lots of T-shirts—short-and long-sleeved. A lot with sports logos, team emblems. His own brand. Dozens of sports socks. Boxer shorts. Plain white boxers, plain white undershirts. Tailored pajamas.
Interesting.
She added some notes to the file. After a quick knock, Peabody poked her head in. “Dallas, Ben Forrest is here. He’d like to see you.”
Eve thought of the murder board, started to tell Peabody to have him wait, then thought better of it. “Send him on back.”
She finished her notes, saved to the file. When the next knock sounded, she called out an absent, “Come in.”
“Lieutenant, I appreciate you—”
She watched Ben’s face. Watched the tired eyes go wide, and the stunned horror turn them glassy. “God, oh, God.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Forrest.” She stood, angled so she blocked his view of his uncle’s photos. “I wasn’t thinking. Let’s take this outside.”
“I—I…I know what you told me, and what they’re saying in the media. How he died. But…”
Eve took her coat off the hook, tossed it over the board. “Sit down.” She gave him a light shove to see that he did, then got him a bottle of water.
“Who would do that to him? Who would humiliate him that way? Killing him wasn’t enough?” Rather than drink, Ben slapped the bottle against his palm. “It wasn’t enough to take his life?”
“Who would want to humiliate him that way?”
When his gaze lifted to Eve, the fury burned. “I don’t know. I swear to God, I don’t know. If I did, if I even thought, maybe, maybe him or her, I’d tell you. I loved him, Lieutenant Dallas.”
“I believe you. You traveled with him on occasion. On business, or pleasure. Golf trips, sports events.”
“Yeah. I guess we averaged at least a trip a month.”
“Ben, look at me. I believe you loved him, and I’m telling you if you hold back you’re not helping him. So think before you answer me. When you traveled, just the two of you, did he ever seek out women, did he ever arrange for companionship—professional or otherwise.”
“No. Wait.” He held up a hand, closed his eyes, and took a few breaths. “We nearly always shared a two-bedroom suite. We could hang out together that way. I can’t swear that he was always alone in his section of the suite, or that he never went on the prowl after I was down for the night. I can’t swear to it. I can only swear to you that I never saw or heard any sign of that kind of thing. I never knew him to seek out companionship. He used to ask me, to razz me sometimes, about finding a woman and settling down. Lieutenant, he was settled. If you’re digging through the dirt somebody smeared on him, you’re never going to find who did this to him. Because it’s a goddamn lie.”
“Okay, Ben. How about this? The two of you traveled a lot together, just the two of you. Did you ever hit any strip clubs, sex clubs? Just a boys’ night out kind of thing?”
“No. That wasn’t Uncle Tommy’s style, and he’d’ve been embarrassed to go to a place like that with me. We went to games, sports bars, that kind of thing.”
“All right.”
He nodded, then twisted off the cap, drank the water. “They contacted Ava, and said we could have him now. I’m taking care of the arrangements. I wanted to come here to see if there’s anything. Anything you can tell me.”
“I can tell you that your uncle is my priority. Are you having a memorial?”
“Tomorrow.” He drank again. “We didn’t want to wait. Brigit’s helping with the details. He’d want simple. He liked simple best.”
“Who decorated the house?”
He let out a surprised laugh. “Ava. And yeah, it’s not simple. Uncle Tommy liked it though, got a kick out of what he called Ava’s Palace.”
“I bet. The style’s a lot different in his office.”
