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“That’s good then.” Marlo let out a breath. “That’s good.”
And that would get around, Eve thought. She wondered what Stein-burger would think when he heard.
“There’s a minor detail I meant to check out,” Eve continued. “You’d probably know, save me some steps.”
“Anything.”
“Does anyone besides Harris smoke? Herbals, or otherwise?”
“Oh.” Marlo slumped a little. “I do. A little. Occasionally. Not herbals. Tobacco, and I know, I know, I know. Bad for me, painfully expensive. And you have to hide like a thief. I’ve cut them out almost completely because of that, and more—might as well be honest—because Matthew dislikes it so much. He insists I can get the same effect with yoga breathing, which only proves he’s never smoked anything.”
“So he objects?”
“Disapproves. Worries. I tried to switch to herbals as he’s not as rabid about those, but hell. It’s not the same.”
“Anyone else? Smoke or object to it?”
“Andi will bum a drag now and then, either from me or off an herbal. A lot of the crew sneak off for an herbal during breaks. Roundtree designated an area for them, though the studio wouldn’t approve. And Joel pitched a fit.”
Inside, Eve smiled. “Did he?”
“He’s the smoking gestapo.” She straightened again, rolled her eyes dramatically. “I swear, he can tell if you’ve had a single puff an hour before from a half mile away.” She made sniffing sounds, lowered her brows, roughened her voice, and did a dead-on mimic of Steinburger. “Who’s been smoking! I won’t be exposed to it. Preston! Valerie! Get this place aired out, right now!” She made hacking noises, covered her mouth with her forearm. “Somebody get me a lozenge and some spring water!”
Then she laughed, sat back. “I swear, his eyes start watering if somebody so much as thinks about smoking. He and K.T. were at it on that all the time. They’d … Oh, I didn’t mean. It’s not like he’d kill somebody over it. He just can’t stand it, and his eyes do get red.”
“Understood.” Eve smiled. “We know Harris smoked herbals on the roof, inside the dome. DNA. From what you’ve said it doesn’t seem likely she got them from someone else at the party.”
“She wouldn’t ask, believe me. Or share.”
“Then that covers that. Just a minor detail, as I said. I’ve got to get to the briefing, Marlo.”
“Okay. Thanks. Really.” She rose, took Eve’s hand. “It’s probably stupid, but I feel better just talking to you.”
“Glad I could help. I’ll walk you out.”
“You probably think it’s silly,” Marlo said and tugged on her wig. “Wigs and shades and oversized coats.”
“I think I’d hate it if I couldn’t walk down the street, buy a soy dog, take a stroll, grab a slice without having people staring at me, pushing at me, taking pictures of me.”
“It’s part of the package.”
“Everybody’s got a package. You don’t have to like all of it.”
“Matthew and I are talking about going public. What the studio wants, it just doesn’t seem important now. Two people are dead. That’s what’s important, so … And you know what else?” She pulled off the wig, shaking out her short hair as she stuffed it in her bag. “God! That feels better. Screw it. I’m Marlo Durn.”
She shot Eve the megastar smile and strolled toward the glide.
Armed with the additional data, Eve strode to the conference room. Inside, McNab stuffed the last of a doughnut into his mouth.
Peabody turned from the board, goggled. “Holy shit, Dallas.”
“Convinced?”
“Are you kidding? The pattern’s there. Right there. He kills people.”
“Not quite a habit,” McNab put in, “more than a hobby. Or maybe there are others, people who didn’t have a connection to him. In between he kills complete strangers.”
“Possible. But it strikes me as more likely his killing is, to him, just part of doing business. Sometimes you fire, sometimes you dissolve a partnership. Sometimes you kill.”
