It was Claire who had answered the door and ushered them in. As soon as the sisters glanced at each other the atmosphere chilled to a level below that Tyler's apartment had ever reached. Daniel, who was lurking behind the sofa, shrank away from the visitors.
“This is not an appropriate time for you to be here,” Margina said imperiously. “The Starlight crew will be here any minute.”
“I apologize for interrupting you at what is undoubtedly a difficult time,” Amanda said; it was her best official sympathy voice. She marveled she could manage to keep it irony-free. “But I'm afraid we do have some questions for Tamzin, and Claire again. We'll be brief.”
Tamzin glanced at Colin, who gave a small nod.
“I'll help in whatever way I can,” Tamzin said. “I want Byrne's murderer caught. Have you found the piece of scum yet?” Her gaze flicked pointedly to her sister.
“We have a possible suspect.”
Mike Wilson showed her his cybofax, running the image. “Do you recognize this man? We think Byrne knew him.”
Tamzin leaned forward with considerable interest, fabric straining. Amanda saw Wilson's glance slither helplessly down to her cleavage, and prayed hard no one else had seen.
“No. I don't.”
He went onto show the image to Margina, Claire, and even Colin. They all said they had never seen the man before.
“What about threats?” Amanda asked. “Do you know if anyone was being abusive to him recently?”
“No,” Tamzin said. “There was nothing like that. He did have a few crank callers, everyone as famous as us has them; but the agency screened them for him.”
“I'd like a record of them, please,” she told Colin.
“I'll get it squirted over to you,” he promised.
“Thank you. Greg, anything you need to know?”
“The pictures in your fiancé's apartment are interesting,” Greg said. “How long's he been buying them?”
Tamzin blinked, slightly baffled. “Since he moved in, I suppose. Byrne appreciated fine art, music, culture; he wasn't just an action hero, you know. He was friends with a lot of people in the media and arts. Inspiring people. He was even writing a script for a drama that we would star in together. Now that's talent.”
“Yes, I'm sure. The pictures are all original, aren't they?”
“They're Byrne's collection,” Tamzin said in pique. “Of course they're original.”
“I see. Thanks.”
Amanda had somehow expected more; she had seen Greg interview suspects before. When he didn't ask anything else, she said: “I'd like to talk to Claire alone for a moment, please.”
Margina's face tightened in fury; she gave her youngest daughter a warning glare as she stalked out. Tamzin didn't even bother with that; she ignored everyone as she left. It was Colin who was left to take Daniel's hand and lead the lad away.
Claire slumped down petulantly into the sofa. She was wearing an oversize rouge T-shirt and baggy black jeans; cloaking while Tamzin exhibited. Always opposites. “Now what?”
“I really will be brief,” Amanda said. “This is going to be personal, I'm sorry. Did you know about Tyler's obsession with recording events in his bedroom?”
“You've found the memox crystals?” Claire asked in a small voice.
“Yes, we did.”
“I knew you would. Byrne liked me to watch them with him. He enjoyed the ones of him with famous people. There were a lot; actresses and singers, socialites, people like that. I know it was all wrong, but one more bad thing on top of all the rest didn't seem to matter much, not by then.”
“Do you know if he was recording the pair of you that night?”
“I don't know. I knew he did sometimes. I didn't ask. I never wanted to think about stuff like that.”
Amanda took a quick look at Greg, who was watching impassively. There was no clue as to what he saw with his sixth sense. “Thank you, Claire. I know that wasn't easy. I'd just like to go back to that night one more time. Did you see or hear anything unusual there?”
“No. I told you already, there was nothing different.”
“Not even with Byrne—he wasn't acting oddly?”
“No.”
“He didn't do anything that made you angry, or upset?”
“No! Why are you asking this? You think I did it, don't you? I didn't! I didn't! Tamzin thinks I did. Mum hates me. I didn't want any of this. You think I did?” Tears were starting to slide down her cheeks. She wiped at them with the back of a hand, sniffling loudly.
“Okay, Claire, I'm sorry. And you're sure you didn't recognize the man Mike showed you on the cybofax?”
“Yeah, I've never seen him. Who is he?”
“I wish we knew.”
As soon as they all got back into Amanda's car, she turned to Greg. “Well?”
“Claire's telling the truth. She didn't kill him.”
“God damn it! I'm sure she knows something about this.”
“Not that I could sense. She certainly didn't recognize the killer's face, there was nothing odd about the apartment that night, and Byrne was behaving normally. You're going to have to come at it from a different angle.”
“Shit.” She faced forward and gripped the steering wheel. “It has to be someone with a big vicious grudge eating at them.”
“The murderer knew all about the cameras,” Greg said. “Not that Tyler exactly kept it a secret. That makes it more likely to be a jealous boyfriend or husband of some girl that Tyler's had up there.”
“Then why the hell can't we find a match for his face?”
“We'll get him,” Mike Wilson said. “It's just a question of time now.”
“Yeah, right.” She switched on the power cell, and drove off. “Sorry to waste your time, Greg.”
“I don't think you did,” he said cautiously. “There's something not quite right about the crime scene. Don't ask what, it's just a feeling. I just know something's wrong there. It might come to me later; these things normally take time to recognize. Can I give you a call?”
“Please!”
“Thanks. So what's your next step?”
“Work through his friends and acquaintances, and the girls on the crystals. See if any of them recognizes the murderer. Just a hell of a lot of datawork correlation, basically.”
Making sense out of Byrne Tyler's twisted finances was one of Amanda's biggest priorities. She had emphasized that often enough to Vernon and Mike Wilson, both of whom assured her of their total agreement. But there was no accountant waiting for her on Monday morning when she arrived at the station. Mike Wilson was in full apology mode, explaining that the person he had asked to be assigned to the Tyler case was finishing off another audit. “But he'll have completed that by tomorrow at the latest.”
“You mean he'll be here tomorrow?”
“I would assume so.” He handed her a memox crystal. “Peace offering. This came in from Tyler's agency. It's an index of all his professional contacts, people he's worked with over the last eighteen months. They've also got records of his crankier fans.”
Amanda gave the crystal a mistrustful glance; the number of people they were going to have to interview was expanding at an exponential rate. She went into the office to see what progress Alison had made identifying the girls on the memox crystals.
It was considerable. Amanda's eyebrows quirked several times as she ran down the list. For an ex-soap star he had an astonishing sex appeal. How he got to meet so many women in such a short time (during his engagement), and have such a success rate was beyond her. Sure he was boyishly handsome, and kept himself in top physical shape…They started to draw up an interview schedule. Most of it would have to be done over the phone; the preliminary inquiry, anyway.