Part 29 (1/2)
”I 'm sorry. I don't. I 'm not sure I knew it, or if she used her name. Is it important?”
”I t might be. Do you remember what she looked like?”
”Perfectly. I t's etched.” Patrice didn't smile as she tapped her forehead. ”Sly enjoyed watching us together for a time, and having us with him, around him. But then he began to hurt her, he was so rough, so unlike himself-or what I expected. I didn't like it, but it didn't seem to bother her. In fact, she soothed me. I remember drinking buckets of champagne, smoking some zoner, doing what I thought was Exotica. Then it all went a little mad. A lot mad. I t turned frantic and mean. I had no control, no boundaries. And I have very little memory of the rest of the night, into the next day.”
”He slipped you something.”
”He gave me Wh.o.r.e and a chaser of Rabbit. My husband did that to me.” She pressed her lips together for a moment, gripped the chains around her neck as if they were an anchor keeping her in place. ”I like s.e.x. I like a lot of s.e.x, but this wasn't voluntary. Do you understand?”
”Yes.”
”I thought, when I surfaced, we'll say, that I 'd just overdone it with the alcohol and drugs, with the experiment. Physically I felt sore and sick and blurry for days, enough that Sly had the house droid keep me in bed and bring me soups and teas until it pa.s.sed. But worse, I had flashes for months after, where I swore I saw Winnie's face over mine, heard his voice, felt his body. Sly never asked me to repeat the experiment, and told me I imagined things, so I let it go. But part of me knew, from the way Winnie looked at me, I hadn't imagined it.”
When Patrice lapsed into silence, Eve leaned forward so their eyes met. ”Do you need a break?”
”No. No, let's just get it done. One day I was waiting for a friend at Chi-Chi's. We were going to have lunch and do some shopping, and the pro slipped into the chair across from me. I was surprised, to say the least. She said there were lines, and my husband had crossed them, but she would deny ever having spoken to me if I told him. She told me he'd given me drugs, and he'd let his friend have me when I was under them.”
Her voice faltered, but she took a long drink of water and came back stronger.
”Maybe I didn't care, and that was my business. She could lose her license if she engaged with a client who used illegals, so she would deny that, too, if it ever became an issue. But I had a right to know he'd abused me. She told me they'd recorded it. Recorded taking turns with me. That she'd said and done nothing because she was afraid of them, because she was new, because my husband was her client. And she left before I spoke a word, before I could think of a word to speak. I knew she told me the truth.”
”Do you want more water?” Eve asked her.
”No, I 'm fine. I t was a long time ago. I 'm over it.” But she took a deep breath. ”I waited. I t took weeks. I had to search when he was out of the house, when I knew I 'd have plenty of time. But eventually I found the disc. I made a copy, which I still have. Which he knows I still have. I confronted him, and I suppose-technically-I blackmailed him. I got one h.e.l.l of a settlement in the divorce.” She breathed again, sat back. ”I suppose that was cold and mercenary.”
”Personally, I think it was f.u.c.king smart.”
That spectacular smile shone again. ”Thanks. I 've never told anyone. Not even my husband-my third-whom I do love, very much. I married a second time before I was over what had happened, and that was a mistake. But Quentin and I have a good marriage, a good life, and I 'd rather, even now, he didn't know. But Felicity thought it was important, vital even, that you understand who these men are.”
”I t is. Very. Excuse me a minute.” Eve rose, pulled out her communicator and stepping away contacted Peabody. ”My partner's going to bring in some pictures for you to look at. Is that okay?””Yes, all right.” Her fingers closed over her chains again, twisted them, untwisted them. ”Should I get out of town?”
”I don't think there's a problem for you, but I understand you often travel in the same circles-same place, different times. I 'd keep to those different times.”
”That's easy enough.”
”Are they usually together-in that same place, same time?”
”Often, from what I read, what I hear. They like to gamble and compete, and preen. Well, we all preen, it's part of what we do. I do see them a bit here and there, and make it a point-it's pride-to speak to him when I do. But it's show. We don't really socialize, we don't have mutual friends who are actual friends. I think you understand.”
”Yeah.”
”Oddly, I 've never been afraid of either one of them until now. I figured I had the upper hand, and it was all so long ago. I t hardly seems real. Then Felicity called today, and suddenly it was very real, and I 'm afraid.”
”Do you want protection, Pat?”
”I can get my own, and I think I will, but thank you. Do you really believe they've killed two people?”
Eve kept her gaze steady so Patrice could see the truth in them. ”At this point Moriarity and Dudley are persons of interest in my investigation. I have no evidence against either of them at this point.” She waited a beat. ”Do you understand?”
”Yes. Yes, I understand perfectly.”
When Peabody walked in, Eve gestured her over. ”This is Detective Peabody. Patrice Delaughter.”
”Thanks for coming in, Ms. Delaughter.”
She smiled, but it lacked some of the earlier brilliance. ”I t's been an experience.”
”I 'd like you to look at these pictures.” Eve opened the folder, began to spread out the shots. ”Tell me if you recognize anyone.”
”Her.” Eve had barely set out the ID photos when Patrice laid a finger on Ava Crampton's. ”That's the pro Sly hired. She's older, of course, but I know her.”
”This is the licensed companion Sylvester Moriarity hired when you were married, and who subsequently spoke to you regarding the night you were her clients?”
”Yes. There's no question about it. She's stunning, isn't she? A face that's hard to forget. She did me a very good turn. I remember her.”
”Okay. Thank you.”
”Wait.” Patrice grabbed Eve's wrist. ”Felicity said there'd been two murders. Is she one of them?”
”Yes. Here's what I want you to do. Stay out of his way, off his radar. He's got no reason to think about you, and we'll keep it that way. I may need you down the line, but I 'll try to keep the information you gave me out of it.”
”He killed her.”
”I can only tell you she's dead.”
Patrice closed her eyes. ”I 'm going to ask my husband to come to New York. I 'm going to tell him everything. I f you need to use what I 've told you, use it. She helped me, and she didn't have to. I f he's responsible for her death, it must go back to that night, mustn't it?”
”I 'd say so. Where's your husband?”
”Right now he's in London on business.”
”Leave me your contact information and go there. You'll feel safer. I can have a couple of officers escort you where you need to go, to stay with you until you're on your way.”
”Do I look that shaky?”
”You did what was right. Why should you look shaky?”
”I 'm going to give you my card. I 'm going to take your officers and I 'm going to take your advice. And I 'm going to contact Felicity and ask that she and her family join us in London.”
”I think that's a good idea. Peabody.”
”I 'll take care of it. You can wait right here, Ms. Delaughter.”
”I 've always thought of myself as intrepid,” Patrice murmured. ”Now I 'm going to ask if you could stay here with me until this is arranged.”