“Open?”
“Yes. Yes, the lock light was green, then I saw it wasn’t quite closed, so I just pushed it open and came in.”
“And what was the situation when you entered?”
“Reva was sitting on the floor, in the foyer. Sitting there, in a ball, shaking. She was barely coherent.”
“But she’d been coherent enough when she contacted you for you to understand Blair and Felicity were dead, and she-your daughter-was in trouble.”
“Yes. That is, I understood she needed me, and that Blair-Blair and Felicity-were dead. She said: ‘Mom. Mom, they’re dead. Someone’s killed them.’ She was crying, and her voice was hollow and strange. She said she didn’t know what to do, what should she do. I asked where she was, and she told me. I can’t remember exactly what she said, or I said. But it’s on my ‘link at home. You’ll hear for yourself.” Her voice tightened a little.
“Yes, we will.”
“I realize that Reva, then I, should have contacted the police immediately.”
Caro smoothed a hand over the knees of her pajama pants, then simply stared at them as if she’d just realized what she was wearing.
Her cheeks went a little pink, then she sighed. “I can only tell you that both of us, both of us were… we weren’t thinking clearly, and only thought to contact the person we each trusted most.”
“Were you aware that your son-in-law was unfaithful?”
“No. No, I was not.” The words snapped out, with anger just behind them. “And before you ask, I knew Felicity quite well, or thought I did,” Caro amended. “I considered her one of Reva’s closest friends, almost a sister. She was often in my home, as I was often in hers.”
“Was she, Felicity, involved with other men?”
“She had a very active social life, and leaned toward artists.” Her mouth went grim as her thoughts veered, obviously, to her son-in-law. “She used to joke that she wasn’t ready to settle on any one style or era-in men or in her art collection. She was, I thought, a clever woman, with a great deal of style and humor. Reva is often so serious and focused on her work. I thought… I believed Felicity was a good friend for her, someone who brought out her more frivolous side.”
“Who was Felicity seeing now?”
“I’m not sure. There was a man a few weeks ago. We were all here for one of her Sunday brunches. He was a painter, I think.” She closed her eyes as if to focus. “Yes, a painter. His name was Fredo. She introduced him as Fredo, and he struck me as very dramatic, very foreign and intense. But a few weeks before that, there was another. Thin and pale and brooding. And before that…”
She shrugged a shoulder. “She enjoyed men, and from all appearance didn’t develop relationships with any beyond the surface.”
“Is there anyone else who might have had the access codes for this residence?”
“I don’t know of anyone. Felicity was very strict about her security. She wouldn’t employ any staff and kept only droids for domestic work. She used to say people couldn’t be trusted because they always trusted the wrong people. I remember once I told her I found that very sad, and she laughed, and reminded me if it wasn’t true, my daughter wouldn’t have a job.”
Eve saw Peabody come to the doorway, and rose. “Thank you. I’ll need to talk to you again, and I need your permission, on record, to take your home ‘links in for examination.”
“You have it, and whatever else you need to clear this up. I want you to know how much I appreciate you handling this personally. I know you’ll find the truth. Can I go to Reva now?”
“It would be better if you waited here, for a little while longer.” She shot a glance at Roarke, so that he understood she meant for him to do the same.
In the hallway, she nodded a go-ahead to Peabody.
“Sweepers got blood out of the bathroom drain upstairs, and Ewing ’s print on the bowl, though it had been wiped pretty carefully. The murder weapon doesn’t match the kitchen cutlery here. There’s a pretty fancy set, and nothing appears to be missing.”
She consulted her notes. “Reactivated the house droid. It was shut down at twenty-one thirty. Prior to that time, it records that Felicity was at home with a companion. She’d programmed the droid not to give names or details. We’ll need to take it in to override.”
“See to it, then. Any blood traces in the second bath upstairs?”
“None. Just Ewing ’s prints on the toilet.”
“Okay. Let’s give Ewing a second pass.”
They moved together into the living area where a uniform baby-sat Reva. The minute Eve stepped in, Reva surged to her feet. “Lieutenant. I’d like to speak with you. Privately.”
Eve gestured for the uniform to leave the room, and spoke without looking at Peabody. “This is my partner, Detective Peabody. What would you like to speak with us about, Ms. Ewing?”
Reva hesitated, then, when Eve sat, let out a resigned breath. “It’s just that my head’s clearing up, and I’ve realized what sort of jam I’m in. And the sort of jam I’ve put my mother in. She only came because I was hysterical. I don’t want any of the mess that’s on me to rub off on her.”
“Don’t worry about your mother. No one’s looking to hurt her in this.”
“Okay.” Reva gave a short nod. “Okay, then.”
“You said when you pulled back the covers, you saw the bodies, the blood.”
“Yes. I saw they were dead. I knew they were dead. Had to be.”
“Where was the knife?”
“The knife?”
“The murder weapon. Where was it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see a knife. Just Blair and Felicity.”
“ Peabody, would you show Ms. Ewing the weapon we’ve taken into evidence.”
Peabody drew out the sealed knife, walked over to show it to Reva. “Do you recognize this knife, Ms. Ewing?”
Reva stared at the smeared blade, the smeared handle, then lifted her gaze, full of stunned confusion, to Eve’s. “It’s Blair’s. It’s one of the set he bought last year, when he decided we should both take cooking classes. I told him to go right ahead, but I’d stick with the AutoChef or take-out. He actually took the classes, and did some cooking now and then. This looks like one of his kitchen knives.”
“Did you bring it with you tonight, Reva? Were you so angry that you put it in your bag, maybe to threaten them, to scare them?”
“No.” She took a step back from it. “No, I didn’t bring it.”
This time Eve held out an evidence bag. “Is this your stunner?”
“No.” Reva’s fingers curled into her palms. “That’s a recent military model. Mine’s over six years old, a reconfigured Secret Service make. That doesn’t belong to me. I’ve never seen it before.”
“Both this and the knife were used on the victims. Both this and the knife have your fingerprints on them.”
“This is crazy.”
“The violence of the stabbings would have resulted in considerable blood spatter. On your hands, your arms, your face, as well as your clothes.”
Dully now, Reva looked down at her hands, rubbed them gently together. “I know there’s blood on my shirt. I don’t know… Maybe I touched something up there. I don’t remember. But I didn’t kill them. I never touched that knife, that stunner. There’s no blood on my hands.”
“There’s blood in the bathroom drain, and your fingerprints are on the sink.”
“You think I washed my hands? You think I tried to clean up, cover up, then called my mother?”
Eve could tell that Reva’s head was clearing, and her temper was coming back along with her coherency. Those dark eyes were hot, and her teeth clamped together as her color came up. “What the hell do you think I am? You think I’d rip my husband and my friend to pieces, to goddamn pieces because they made a fool out of me? And if I did, I wouldn’t have the fucking sense to get rid of the murder weapon and cover myself? For God’s sake, they were dead. They were dead when I got here.”