‘Did you turn on the light?’ said Eddie.
‘No, I didn’t. I just went over to him, asked him if he was feeling okay. I thought he was maybe taking a nap. He didn’t answer. That’s when I saw what had been done to him. I held his head and saw that the rest of his face had been so …’ She trailed off, and then said, ‘That’s when I panicked and dialed 911.’
‘Did you see your sister, or anyone else, attack your father last night?’
‘No, I didn’t see it. But I know it was her. She was hiding in the bathroom. I saw the light from the bathroom spill underneath the door. Saw the shadows as she moved in there. Ready to spring out and maybe kill me too. I knew it was her. I screamed and I ran out the house.’
‘How did you know it was your sister who killed your father?’ I said.
‘Because my sister is the worst bitch I’ve ever known. I knew it was her. She’s got this front she puts on for the world. Rich, successful. It’s all lies. She’s sick in the head. Our mom, she made things hard growing up. Alexandra is even more fucked up than me. She just hides it better. The cops arrested her too, when I told them I’d seen her in the bathroom. I saw the cops handcuff her when I was in the back of the squad car.’
A knock on the door. Sofia’s eyes flashed fear as she looked over my shoulder. I got up and saw there were two detectives on the other side of the door.
‘It’s okay, Sofia. You’re doing great. Let me go talk to these guys for a second.’
Sofia was struggling with her breathing, her eyes were wide and I could tell she was reliving that moment when she found her father. I tried to calm her again, and she nodded, closed her eyes. Her fingertips found the grooves in the table again, and started moving. I got up, opened the door, stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind me.
The first detective was the one I’d seen earlier, in the yellow shirt, arguing with the sergeant. He was my height, about my build, but ten years older and with a shock of grey hair. His partner wore a three-piece suit, dark, with a navy shirt and pale blue tie. He was younger than me, and had his hair shaved close on both sides, with a flop of hair on top of his head slicked back. They looked an odd pairing.
‘Detective Soames,’ said the man in the yellow shirt, thumbing his chest. He then pointed to the younger man and said, ‘This is Detective Tyler,’ and that was about all the pleasantries that were on offer.
Tyler filled the moment with dead air, not even nodding or smiling. Just staring. This was old-school NYPD – the lawyers are your enemy. Neither of them extended a hand, and they both looked decidedly pissed off at my presence.
‘And you are?’ said Soames.
‘I’m pleased to meet you both,’ I said.
‘Yeah, yeah, what’s your name, pal? We’re ready to interview this suspect,’ said Tyler. His slicked-back hair didn’t move as he spoke. Whatever was holding it in place was industrial strength. He said the word pal like it meant exactly the opposite.
‘I’m Eddie Flynn. I only just met my client. I need a little more time, if you guys don’t mind?’ I said it as politely as I could. They didn’t deserve it, but I was feeling generous.
‘We have to move on this. Clock’s tickin’. You got five minutes then we’ll be coming in,’ said Soames.
‘I might need longer than that. My client just lost her father. She’s not in a fit state at the moment.’
‘Doc says she’s fine and ready to be interviewed,’ said Tyler.
This was a tag-team. Tyler waved a standard custody report from an on-call doc who saw suspects from time to time for the police, just so he could collect four hundred dollars and tick a box to say that the suspect was, in their medical opinion, fit to be interviewed. It gave the NYPD some back-up in case the lawyer tried to jettison their client’s version of events at a later date by claiming the poor client was out of their mind with shock, or disturbed somehow and didn’t know what they were saying. It was insurance, not medical practice.
I turned away from Tyler, the barking dog, and went straight to the guy holding the leash. ‘Did the doc take a look at your ass, Soames? It must hurt with hipster-boy here sticking his head up there every chance he gets.’
‘Five minutes,’ said Tyler. He walked past me, bumping shoulders deliberately as he did so, then knocked on the door to Alexandra’s interview room.
Instead of going back inside to see Sofia, I put my hands in my pockets and leaned against the wall.
Levy came out. Same introductions from Soames. No handshake. Levy saw me standing behind Soames.
‘Look, why don’t you interview Sofia first? My client isn’t ready,’ said Levy.
‘You mean she hasn’t signed your retainer agreement yet?’ said Soames.
‘No, matter of fact she has. She knows quality representation when she sees it. I need twenty minutes to take instructions.’
The door to Alexandra’s room was still ajar. Levy’s associate remained inside, and I could hear Alexandra talking to him. She was crying, and repeating to the associate, ‘I didn’t do it. It was my sister! She’s totally crazy! Why am I here? I’m just as much a victim as my father!’
‘Mr. Levy, if it helps, we just want a first account. What did your client see tonight? What were her movements? We’re not talking about the whole issue with her father’s will,’ said Soames.
‘What issue?’ said Levy.
Soames took a step back, folded his arms and said, ‘We got a call from Mike Modine, Frank’s lawyer. That’s all I’m saying for now.’
I pushed off the wall, opened the door to go back into my interview room. I needed to ask Sofia if she knew anything about her father’s will, but I was also aware the cops knew I was listening. They might just be messing with us – pulling the strings on the defense lawyers – making them chase their tails down blind alleys. Nevertheless, I needed to know for sure. I didn’t know Mike Modine. Never heard of him, which meant he probably wasn’t a litigator. If he represented Frank then maybe he wrote Frank’s will. I couldn’t be sure, but if the cops were tipped off by Modine, that meant there was something in the will of interest. My best guess – the will was motive.
I needed to talk to Sofia.
I got the door halfway open.
Stopped dead.
‘Sorry,’ said Sofia.
‘Oh my god! Medic!’ I called.
Sofia’s mouth, neck and chest were covered in blood. She had bitten through her wrist. Her eyes slipped into the back of her head, she slumped off the seat and fell unconscious to the floor.
FIVE
KATE
For thirty seconds or more, Kate had stood in the cold beside Levy’s Mercedes with the keys in her hand. There were house keys on the ring, as well as the car fob. She had thought about running the house key the full length of the paintwork on the Mercedes and watching a ribbon of ten-thousand-dollar metallic paint curl itself into a spiral.
She could always claim it was like that when she found it.
In the end, she put the fantasy aside, enjoyable as it had been, used the fob to open the car and got into the passenger seat. It didn’t feel right, somehow, to sit in the driver’s seat. Leaning over, she fumbled for a few seconds when she tried to put the key fob in the ignition. Then she realized there was no ignition. This was one of those cars that only needed the key to be near the car. Kate was a long way from owning a vehicle like this, or being able to afford to run any kind of automobile. She knew Levy’s Jaguar from carrying boxes of files to and from the small document vault he kept in the trunk.