Delaney did not mention the flower that Simon wore in his lapel; he doubted they would consider that firm evidence of a romantic passion.
"Why would Ellerbee want to start an affair with such a dull woman," the Chief asked, "if his wife is as lovely as you say?"
Delaney repeated what he had told Boone and Jason-that Simon wanted to improve his women and had tired of being married to a paragon, with his friends constantly telling him how lucky he was.
"Maybe," Delaney added, "he wanted a relationship in which he was the paragon. It must be difficult being married to a work of art."
"Let's get back to that missing billing ledger," the Deputy said.
"Who do you figure took it-Diane or Joan Yesell?"
"Diane," Delaney said promptly.
"Look, Diane wants to implicate Yesell. That's why she gave us Joan's name in the first place. But at the same time, she doesn't want us to find out about Simon's affair. Diane is a very complex woman, torn between a need for vengeance and a need to protect her own self-esteem."
"Why did she put out his eyes?" Ivar asked-and with that question Delaney knew he had convinced them.
Again he repeated what he had told Boone and Jason-that Simon had persuaded Diane that her beauty meant little, but then had begun to look at another woman. She couldn't stand that.
There was silence.
"That's all?" Delaney said.
"No more questions?"
Then, thinking it might be discreet to leave them alone for a few moments, he went into the kitchen and mixed himself a tall rye highball.
He drank half of it off immediately, standing at the sink, then brought the remainder back into the study along with drinks for the others.
"All right," he said.
"Did she or didn't she? Chief, what do you think?"
"I think she did it," Suarez said mournfully, his sad face sagging.
"A beautiful woman like that-it is a true tragedy."
"Ivar?"
"Oh, she's guilty as hell," the Admiral said.
"No doubt about it. But you know what you've got, Edward. Zero, zip, and zilch."
"Hard evidence, you mean?" Delaney said.
"Of course I know that. And we're not -going to get it. Continuing this investigation would be just spinning our wheels. But I want Diane Ellerbee charged for the murder of her husband."
"What good would that do?" Thorsen demanded, looking at him narrowly.
"She'd be out in two hours, and that would be the end of that. And the DA will call us assholes for arresting her."
"I'll tell you what it'll do for me, " Delaney said coldly.
"It'll ruin her. The arrest will be headlined in every newspaper in town, and featured on every TV news program. She's going to walk anyway, isn't she? You know it and I know it. But we can drag her through the mud first. Even when she goes free, everyone will be saying, "Where there's smoke, there's fire." You think her reputation can take that? Or her career? I know we'll never get a conviction on what I've got-probably not even an indictment-but by God, we can make her suffer.
That's what I want.
"As for you two, what you get out of this hyped-up circus is what you want: headlines of an important arrest, with statements by you, Chief, that you're convinced the Ellerbee homicide is cleared. Statements by you, Ivar, congratulating Suarez on his exceptional detective work in solving this extremely difficult case. Don't you think the PC is going to read the papers and watch TV?"
The two men turned and stared at each other. I do not know…" Suarez said hesitantly.
"I am not sure… The law…"
Delaney whirled on him.
"The law?" he said, snorting.
"What the hell has the law got to do with this? We're talking about justice here. She's got to be made to pay. But this can't be decided on the basis of either law or justice. This is strictly a political decision."
"Welcome to the club," Thorsen said with a small smile.
"But what if she sues for false arrest?"
"I wish she would," Delaney cried, "but she's too smart for that.
Because that would bring her into a courtroom, and the carnival would continue. And the whole business of her late husband's affair would be dragged through the press. You think she'd enjoy that? Her lawyers won't let her sue the city after they look over what we've got. No way!
They're going to tell her to forget it, lay low, and don't make waves."
"It's a gamble," the Deputy said thoughtfully.
"Charging someone when we know we don't have an icicle's chance in hell!,of getting a conviction."
I told you it was a political decision," Delaney said.
"It's two days until the end of the year. You can still pull this out if you've got the balls for it."
"I do not like it," Suarez said.
"It is somehow shameful.
But still, the woman is guilty-no?"
"When would you want to do this?" Thorsen asked.
"Take her?" Delaney said.
"Tomorrow night if I can set up a meet."
"Do you want the Chief and me there?"
"No, I don't think that would be wise. You keep your distance until it's done. But have your statements ready, and schedule a press conference.
My God, Ivar, you know how to use the media; you've been doing it long enough.
I'll take Boone and Jason. They've worked hard on this thing and should be in on the kill. And, by the way, Chief-I've got a list of people, including Boone and Jason, who deserve recognition for a hard job well done."
"Of course," Suarez said with a wave of his hand.
"It is understood."
"Good. I'll hold you to that. Now let's get to the nittygritty and figure how this is going down."
He finally got through to Diane Ellerbee late on Monday morning, December 30th.
"Edward X. Delaney here," he said briskly.
"Doctor, there's been a major development in the investigation of your husband's death-something I think you should know about."
"You've found the killer?"
"I'd rather not talk about it on the phone. Could we meet sometime this evening?"
They finally agreed on 8:30 P.m. at the East 84th Street townhouse.
Delaney hung up, satisfied, then immediately called Boone, asking him to pick him up at the brownstone at eight o'clock.
"And bring Jason with you," he told the Sergeant.
"I'd like both of you to be in uniform."
"My God, sir, my blues need cleaning and pressing!"
"Try to get it done this afternoon. If you can't, wear them the way they are. Full equipment for both of you."
A short pause, then: "We're busting her?"
"Tell you tonight at eight," Delaney said, enjoying the suspense game as much as anyone.
He had promised his ladies a fine lunch, and put the Eller bee case from his mind for a few hours while he acted the expansive host. He took them to Prunelle's on East 54th Street, where the women were suitably impressed with the Art Deco decor and hurled maple walls.
"On the first day of the new year," Delaney vowed as they finished, "I am going to start my six thousand four hundred and fifty-eighth diet."
"Another of your one-day diets?" Monica said cruelly.
"You like me massive," he told her.
"More of me to love."
"Hah!" she said.
Their luncheon took almost two hours, and after, the women shared their intention of checking out the post christmas sales in Fifth Avenue stores. Delaney left them outside the restaurant determined to walk home and work off some of those calories.
The temperature hovered around the freezing mark, but it was a bright, pleasant day with a washed blue sky dotted with puffy clouds. He tramped north on Madison Avenue, marveling at the proliferation of art galleries, antique shops, and boutiques.
It was a long walk, almost thirty blocks, and he was happy to get in the warm brownstone, unlace his shoes, and treat himself to a cigar. He sat heavily in his swivel chair in the study and began plotting the confrontation with Diane Ellerbee.