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“Of course.”
“Just checking. Neither you nor Mr. Steinburger left the residence at any time that evening, that night, and through to the morning?”
“No.”
“You’re sure because you spent every minute of that time together.”
“We worked late, until after midnight—nearly one A.M., trying to get ahead of the story, anticipate the angles. I stayed in the guest quarters as it was so late when we finished, and we agreed to put in some time in the morning.”
“How much do you get paid for that kind of overtime?”
“Excuse me?”
“I wonder what you get for putting in all that time.”
“My job requires flexibility and often entails long and odd hours. I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
“Cops are nosy. I’m nosy, so I wonder if the time you put in explains the fifty thousand Mr. Steinburger transferred to your account yesterday morning.”
Agitation switched to shock—covered fairly well, Eve thought, with sputtering outrage. “You looked into my personal finances? What right do you have to—”
“Every. This is murder. What did you do for fifty large, Valerie?”
“My job! Joel values exceptional work, which I provide. Handling the fallout from K.T.’s death has involved a lot of extra time, extra hours, and some innovation. He gave me a bonus.”
“But you said your job requires flexibility and often entails long hours.”
“It does.”
“And how often are you given a fifty-thousand-dollar bonus for doing your job? Because unless it was in cash, and went unreported, which would mean you didn’t pay taxes on it, I didn’t see anything comparable in the last two years.”
“I can only speculate Joel felt these circumstances, and my handling of them, warranted the bonus.” She looked away, and her throat worked. “You’d have to ask him.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that. Are you sleeping with him again, Valerie?”
“I am not! I don’t have to sleep with an employer to advance my career.”
“But you had sex with him before.”
“It had nothing to do with career advancement. It was just a momentary weakness on both our parts. We started and ended it before we came to the New York studios.”
“Good for you. Speaking of advances, I just got this wild hair and checked with the hotel. You’ve moved up to a VIP suite. That’s a major upgrade from a standard room.”
“I needed the extra space, and the upgrade for the work.”
“And the—what do they call it—maître d’étage service, the personal gym and private elevator.”
“I needed a larger work space,” Valerie said stubbornly now. “The studio approved it.”
“You know what fancy digs and a fistful of cash says to me, Peabody?”
“Well …”
“It says bribe. Cops are suspicious and cynical as well as nosy.”
“I haven’t done anything but my job. I came in here voluntarily, but I don’t have to stay and be insulted.”
“I wonder what it’s like running media interference for people who make, what? Easily ten times what you do, more for some of them. For people who get all the perks as a matter of course, get all the attention, while you labor away behind the scenes, scrambling to show them all off in the best light. Then have to spin or cover up their fuckups, their stupidity, their indulgences. Their sins, their crimes.”
