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His jaw went tight, drawing those thin lips into a harsh frown. “I fail to see how that could be of interest to you in this matter.”
“It’s a matter of routine and information gathering. Your employee’s identification was used, your company car service was used, your company credit line was used, all in connection with a homicide. You are head of the company, are you not, Mr. Moriarity?”
“My position hardly—” He cut himself off, held up a hand. “It’s not important in any case. I entertained a small group of friends in my box at the opera. We had cocktails prior in a private room at Shizar, then walked the two blocks to the Met for the performance. Afterward we gathered for a late supper at Carmella. This would have been from approximately six-thirty last night to after one this morning.”
“It would help our records if we could have the names in your party.”
His eyes bored into hers. “It’s difficult enough to have any sort of connection with a murder. Now you’ll contact my personal friends to verify my word? It’s insulting.”
“Murder’s a nasty business for everybody.”
Now the muscles in his jaw twitched as he reached into his pocket for an appointment book. “I don’t care for your demeanor, Lieutenant.”
“I get that a lot.”
“No doubt.” He rattled off a series of names and contacts while Peabody scrambled to key the information into her notebook.
“Thank you. Do you have any idea, any speculations as to how Urich’s identification was compromised?”
“I just completed a meeting on that subject, and have ordered a full company screening and internal investigation.”
“You believe the compromise came from inside the company.”
He took a sharp breath in and out of his nose. “If it didn’t our security is lacking, and security is the core of my company. If it did, our employee screening is lacking, and we are in the business of screening. So either way we require our own investigation.”
“I hope you’ll keep us informed of your progress and findings.”
“Believe me, Lieutenant, when we find how this was done, and by whom, we will notify you. I will not have Intelicore’s reputation smeared in this matter. Now, I have another meeting, with our public relations division. We have a media crisis on our hands with this. So if there’s nothing else at the moment . . .”
“Thank you for your time. If you could take another moment of it, and verify your whereabouts night before last, between seven P.M. and midnight, it would be very helpful.”
Color flared in his cheeks. “That’s simply outrageous.”
“It may seem so, Mr. Moriarity, but we’re pursuing a line of investigation, and it would benefit us as well as you and your company if we had that information on record.”
“I was at home that evening, if you must know. I had a headache, took some medication, and went to bed early. Am I under arrest?”
Eve answered in kind. “Not at this time. I apologize for the inconvenience, and the intrusion, but we have a body in the morgue with a connection to your company. We owe it to her to be thorough. Again, thank you for your time. Peabody, with me.”
In the elevator, Peabody cleared her throat. “I guess it’s understandable he’s upset, but we’re just doing our job.”
Eve shrugged. “He can be an asshole, as long as we have the information. Check out the alibi so we can cross him off.”
“Yes, sir. So . . . what are you and Roarke up to tonight?”
Amused, Eve cocked an eyebrow. “No plans. I’ll probably be working late anyway. I’m going to sit hard on EDD. We’ve got a hacker out there somewhere who likes to kill people. They need to find the source.”
Outside, Peabody slid into the passenger’s seat. “He’s not going to like you calling him an asshole, if he was listening.”
“Oh, he was listening, and he expected the asshole, or some similar insult. He played for it. Dudley goes slick, this one goes sharp.”
“You think that was an act.”
“At least some of it.” She tapped her fingers on the wheel as she drove. “If they’re in this, and if they’re in it together, what’s the point? What’s the purpose? I tell you this, they’re too clever for their own good. Each of them alibied tight for one night, home alone on the other. Switch-off. But why? What’s the root?”
“What if Houston driving that night was rigged. It looks random, but what if the killer knew, or maybe played the odds it would be Houston?”
“It doesn’t feel that way, but okay.” Flip of the coin, Eve thought, but then again fifty-fifty odds weren’t bad. “Keep going.”
