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“You mean sexual. I couldn’t say. I manage the house. I’ve never seen anything in the house that would lead me to believe either, or both, engaged in adulterous affairs.”
“Can you think of anyone who’d want him dead?”
“No.” Greta eased back slowly. “I thought—I assumed—that someone had broken in to steal, and that Mr. Anders was killed by the thief.”
“Have you noticed anything missing or out of place?”
“No. No. But I haven’t looked.”
“I’m going to have you do that now. One of the officers will take you around.” She glanced over as Peabody came in. “Peabody, get one of the uniforms. I want Mrs. Horowitz escorted while she looks around the house. You’re free to go afterward,” Eve told Greta. “If you’d give my partner or me the contact information where you’ll be.”
“I prefer to stay, until Mrs. Anders arrives, if this is allowed. She may need me.”
“All right then.” Eve rose, signaling the end to the initial interview. “Thanks for your cooperation.”
As Greta went out, Eve walked to the room off the kitchen. Inside two droids, disengaged, stood. One male, one female, both uniformed and dignified in appearance. The security screens Greta had spoken of ranged over a wall, and as she’d stated, the master bedroom camera showed only the sitting area.
“Dallas?”
“Huh?”
“House security was disengaged at two twenty-eight, reengaged at three twenty-six.”
Eve turned to frown at Peabody. “Reengaged before TOD?”
“Yeah. All security discs for the twenty-four-hour period before the security was reset are gone.”
“Why, I’m shocked. We’ll get EDD in here to see if they can dig something out. So Anders’s night visitor left him hanging, and still alive. That doesn’t sound like sex games gone wrong.”
“No,” Peabody agreed. “Sounds like murder.”
Eve pulled out her communicator when it signaled. “Dallas.”
“Sir, Mrs. Anders just got here. Should I bring her in?”
“Bring her straight back to the kitchen.” Eve switched off. “Okay, let’s see what the widow has to say.”
Turning back to the screens, she watched Ava Anders sweep through the front door, her sable coat swinging back from a slim body dressed in deep blue. Her hair, a delicate blond, was pulled
severely back from a face of high planes. Fat pearl drops swung at her ears, shaded glasses masked her eyes as she crossed the wide, marble foyer, through ornate archways, in skinny-heeled boots with the uniform at her side.
Eve stepped back into the kitchen, took her seat at the sunny breakfast nook seconds before Ava strode in. “You’re in charge?” She pointed a finger at Eve. “You’re the one in charge? I demand to know what’s going on. Who the hell are you?”
“Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD. Homicide.”
“Homicide? What do you mean ‘Homicide’?” She pulled off her sunglasses, revealing eyes as blue and deep as her suit, tossed them onto the counter. “Greta said there’d been an accident. Tommy was in an accident. Where’s my husband? Where’s Greta?”
Eve got to her feet. “Mrs. Anders, I’m sorry to tell you your husband was killed this morning.”
Ava stood where she was, her eyebrows drawing together, her breath coming in short little bursts. “Killed. Greta said…but I thought.” She braced a hand on the counter, then slowly walked over to sit. “How? Did he…did he fall? Did he get sick, or…”
Always best to stab quick and clean, Eve thought. “He was strangled in his bed.”
Ava lifted a hand, pressed it to her mouth. Lifted the other to cross it over the first. Those deep blue eyes filled, and the tears spilled as she shook her head.
“I’m sorry, but I need to ask you some questions.”
“Where’s Tommy?”
