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“It’s no one’s business, and not at all pertinent. Mr. Steinburger and I are not involved in the way you imply.”
“But you were?”
“Briefly. Several months ago. We ended that phase of our relationship amicably, and work together. Nothing more.”
“Uh-huh. And last night, you and Mr. Steinburger worked together in his pied-à-terre, from ten-thirty until one.”
“That’s correct. I conferred with my assistant, as I recall. All of us are putting in considerable overtime.”
“On the situation.”
“Yes.”
“How are you handling the Matthew-and-Marlo-as-lovers portion of the situation?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Tell me this. How much overtime did you put in on K.T. Harris while she was alive?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean, how did you spin, cover up, keep quiet, her addiction problems, her threats, the blanket dislike for her on this project?”
“K.T. was a talented actor whose work was celebrated and respected. As is often the case with artists, her temperament was often misunderstood by those outside.”
“Does anybody actually buy that bullshit? Amazing.”
In response, Valerie just folded her hands in her lap.
“Send me the list of your holo-conference attendees, and a copy of your brainstorming notes. I’ll take Steinburger now.”
“It would help considerably if you could speak with Joel in his office. We’re enormously busy this morning.”
“Sure. Lead the way.”
The offices were in the same section, hardly more than a thirty-second walk.
Power play, Eve decided when she went in—after Valerie’s knock and Steinburger’s answer. He sat behind his desk, a busy man. His office boasted a wall of screens, several of them tuned to media channels with the sound muted. His comp, ’link bank, disc files, memo cubes, crowded his expansive desk.
He, too, had a sofa, chairs, awards, photos—and a small conference table now holding the debris of meetings.
“Yes, yes, sit. I’ll be right with you. Valerie, I don’t know where the hell Shelby went off to. Get Lieutenant Dallas some coffee.”
“I’m good. You can leave,” she said to Valerie.
“I need Valerie to—”
“It’ll have to wait,” Eve interrupted. “This isn’t a business meeting, but a police investigation. You’re entitled to have your lawyer present, or you can designate Valerie as your legal representative. However, she would be under no legal constriction to hold what’s said in this room confidential.”
“This won’t take long, Valerie. We’ll deal with the next round in …” He checked his wrist unit. “Twenty. Take a break.”
“I’ll be close by.” Valerie stepped out, shut the door.
“I’m sorry to be abrupt,” Steinburger began. “We’re dealing with a great deal of difficulties, on every level. I’m told you’re here about some private investigator’s death, and you think it’s connected to K.T.’s murder.”
“That’s right. I need your whereabouts for last night, from ten until midnight.”
“Well, let’s see.” He scrolled through his book, searching with shadowed eyes. “I watched Valerie’s media conference, she did one via holo with the West Coast last night. It was booked from nine to ten. We reviewed that, then spent considerable time working on how to handle the situation.”
