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“So serious. Let’s see, when did Dirk last lay eyes on the lovely Ava? Ten years ago? No, longer. How time does fly. Closer to fifteen, I think. I bumped elbows with her in New York, if memory serves, at some party or premiere. Whatever. I believe she’d been recently married to the sports king.”
“Why did you and Ava divorce?”
“Who remembers? I’m sure I strayed, as I do enjoy variety. Dirk is no damn good and has a selection of ex-wives and women who would be delighted to verify that.”
“She didn’t satisfy you sexually?”
Avid amusement shone in his eyes. “Well, aren’t we nosy?”
She saw him shift, heard the rattle of ice in a glass, then watched him sip something tall and rosy. “She was—and my memory is clear on this—delightful in bed, and other interesting places. We wouldn’t have gotten as far as marriage otherwise. But I have a weak will and a roving eye. In any case, I wasn’t ambitious enough for her as I was—and am—content to coast and cruise. She wanted something—someone—who would provide her with opportunities for money and fame, respect. Like, I imagine, the dead sports king. I enjoy my sloth. We weren’t suited.”
“So she left you.”
“With a tidy sum and not a backward glance. Her cold heart and steely resolve were part of her appeal to me. As I recall, she introduced me to the woman I strayed with, and gave me far too many opportunities to take advantage. But somehow, she didn’t see it as her fault when I took advantage. Imagine that!”
“Imagine that. Thanks for your time.”
“It’s been entertaining. If you ever want to coast or cruise, be sure to look me up.”
“Yeah, I’ll jump right on that.” She clicked off, stood for a moment absorbing. Then she went out to take leave of the Luces.
Sounds like a big, oily ball of smile,” Peabody commented after Eve filled her in.
“Yeah, he does. Polar opposite of Anders.”
“Devil’s advocate. A woman gets burned like that, it’s reasonable she’d look for a completely different type.”
“Yeah, absolutely logical, absolutely reasonable. Good plan.”
“You really think plan? Like, okay, sleazy ex-husband dispatched. Check. Now hook nice guy with deep pockets?”
“She introduced the ex to the woman he cheated with. Read between
the lines, Peabody. If you know a kid’s addicted to ice cream, do you put a big chocolate sundae in front of him and walk away? If you want out of a marriage with a tidy sum, sympathy, and no fault on you, what better way than to set up your weak-willed, roving-eyed husband? It’s something she’d do. It’s exactly something she’d do.
“I want to talk to Greta again. You go back, pick up the files. If you need help transporting, order it up. When you get back to Central, do a search for repeating names. Any that show multiple times in any program. Run those first.”
She pulled over, spoke over the ensuing storm of horns. “Take the wheel. I’ll catch a cab, then tap Roarke for a ride to the memorial.”
She checked the address in her book, then decided to walk a few blocks to clear her head before engaging in the war for a cab. Since she was on foot, she pulled out her ’link to check on Feeney.
He answered, honking like a dying goose. “Man, you sound sick.”
“I am sick. Goddamn it. You think I’m lying here in bed drinking this disgusting boiled tree bark they gave me for my health?”
She waited a beat. “Well. Yeah.”
“I’m burning up. I’ve got hot shards of glass in my throat and ten pounds of snot in my head. And what do they do? What do they do?” His eyes bugged out like glass marbles. “They give me fucking liquid tree bark and the wife’s poured so much chicken soup down me, I’m starting to cluck. I don’t want to die here in this damn bed. If this is the end, I want to buy it at my desk, like a man. You gotta get me out of here, Dallas. You gotta bust me out. You can take Sheila.”
His face was wildly flushed, but Eve thought that was as much from sick panic as sickness. And she wasn’t altogether sure she could take Feeney’s wife. “Ah, what? I can’t hear you. It must be a bad ’link.”
“Don’t you pull that crap on me.”
“Okay, okay. How about this? I’ve got Peabody picking up files, hundreds of them from Anders Worldwide. It’s the wife, Feeney, I know it in my guts. But I’ve got nothing to take to the commander, much less the PA. The search and runs on these files are going to take hours. Maybe days. Peabody could fill you in, toss some to you. You could work from there.”
“Best you can do is throw me a bone?” He honked again. “I’ll take it.”
“It’s a big bone, Feeney, and I need somebody to dig out the meat.”
