“I must be your prime suspect now,” she said.
“No, if anything you’ve gone down a few notches. Unless he told you what was in his will?”
“Desmond Skeps, so indiscreet? The only thing that ever loosened Desmond’s tongue was alcohol, and by the time I met him, he’d limited his intake severely. One single-malt Scotch a day, that was it, and he never, never deviated. He headed one of the country’s biggest companies, and he knew the damage a loose tongue could wreak. When he first took over the firm, he compromised Cornucopia’s tender for one of the earliest atomic reactors, which enabled a rival company to undercut him using Cornucopia’s own design. It all but killed him. Grierson was the one pulled him out of the fire—if Des loved anyone, it was Wal Grierson. His board was brand-new then. He should have fired all of them except Grierson, but he decided yes-men had their uses—provided, that is, that the boss didn’t get drunk.”
“Obviously you indulged in pillow talk, Dr. Davenport.”
“Oh, she told you, did she? She would!”
“Did Mr. Skeps like women? Get on with them?”
“Oh, come now, Captain, you know full well he hated women! That’s why his will really staggered me. It never occurred to me that Des valued my business sense. Now look at me! I’m Chairman of the Board and I have complete control of young Des’s shares, interests, money.” She gave a breathy laugh. “I, Erica Davenport, am cock of the walk!”
“So you’re going to rub Mrs. Skeps’s nose in it.”
“Not at all.” The eyes were so earnest they were struggling to be blue. “I have no intention of interfering with Philomena Skeps or with her duties as a mother.”
“I have a different question for you, Dr. Davenport. What would happen if Desmond Skeps the Third died?”
Her skin lost its color. “Don’t! Oh, don’t!”
“You’re a lawyer, the eventuality must have occurred to you. So what happens?”
“There are other members of the Skeps family. I daresay the closest agnate relative would inherit.”
Carmine’s heart sank. “Mr. Philip Smith?”
“No, definitely not. Mr. Smith claims blood relationship, but the degree has never been investigated. There is a male nephew and a male first cousin. They would come first, with the first cousin ahead. The nephew is the child of Desmond Skeps’s sister. The first cousin is the child of Desmond Skeps Senior’s younger brother. However, the will was drawn up under New York State law, and I am no expert on that.”
“And it’s irrelevant besides, since Young Des is very much alive. Thank you.” He looked around. “Are you planning to live here?”
“I don’t see why not, though I’ll have to gut the place. Poor Desmond had no taste.”
“You do?”
“I’d rather say that my taste is quite, quite different. I’ll be buying paintings for my pension plan, and hanging them in here. I’ll also be getting rid of that monstrosity.” She flapped a hand at the telescope. “He used to love to play Peeping Tom.”
“So I realized. Did he have a camera attached to it?”
She jumped. “Yes, he did! He did! But it’s not here now.”
“It wasn’t here when his body was still on his massage couch,” said Carmine grimly. “Well, at least I know what Ted Kelly removed.”
“Or perhaps the murderer removed it,” she said.
“Possibly.”
He moved toward the elevator.
“Captain? Will you and your family be at Myron’s party tomorrow?”
“If we’ve been invited, yes.”
“Good! I’m anxious to meet your wife.”
“Why, in particular?”
“She’s brave. Myron told me. It’s not a quality usually associated with women.”
“Hogwash!” Carmine snapped, goaded. “Women are incredibly brave, every day of their lives. To a cop like me, they’re prey. There’s always someone out there watching, stalking, snooping, and no one knows which woman will be a target. Though that’s not what I was driving at, ma’am. Women are brave because they bear the babies and hold the home together—and, man, that can be hard!”
“You’re a romantic!” she said, clinically surprised.
“No, I’m a realist. Good night, Dr. Davenport.”
And what would you know about real women, you attenuated society princess living in an executive washroom world? He seethed, thinking of the thousands of women he had met in the course of his work, tiny memories flashing in and out of his rage, understanding himself no more than a witness to their troubles, pain, hideous predicaments. Cooling, he began to think of the upside, and was able to go home with the worst memories returned to his subconscious.