Calculated in Death

ask you a few questions.”
    “I didn’t hear before I came in. I never turn on the screen in the morning. I never have time. When I got here Lorraine—Ms. Wilkie—she was crying. Then everybody was crying. Nobody knew what to do.”
    She looked around the room in a helpless search that had her pressing her knuckles to her mouth. “Sly—Mr. Gibbons was a little late. He tried to contact Marta’s husband, but nobody answered, and he tried to talk to someone at the police, but they didn’t tell him anything, not really. And he said we should cancel any appointments for today and tomorrow. We could go home. Nobody really went home, not yet.”
    “It helps to be around other people who knew her,” Peabody said, and gently led Josie to a chair.
    “I guess. When I heard her voice, I thought,
See it’s a mistake
. I’ve been trying to tell everybody it has to be a mistake. But it isn’t.”
    “No, I’m sorry, it isn’t a mistake.” Eve leaned back against the desk. “How long have you been Marta’s assistant?”
    “About two years. I came on right out of college. I’m going to grad school part-time.”
    “Have there been any problems lately?”
    “Marta’s printer broke. But I fixed it.”
    “Anything out of the ordinary,” Eve qualified.
    “No, I don’t think so. That’s not true! I forgot. Jim and Chaz were in an accident, a car accident in Las Vegas. They went to a convention out there and were supposed to be back yesterday, but they were in a cab that got hit, and Chaz—that’s Mr. Parzarri—and Mr. Arnold were hurt. That’s why Sly had to give Marta and Lorraine the extra work. That’s why Marta was working late. That’s why.”
    “As her assistant you know what she’s working on. You keep a log of incoming contacts, appointments.”
    “Yeah, sure. Yes.”
    “Have there been any contacts recently that caused concern, that were upsetting or unusual?”
    Josie’s eyes cut away. “No.”
    “Josie.” Eve spoke just sharply enough to have the woman’s gaze zipping back to hers. “You need to tell us.”
    “Marta said I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”
    “That was before.” Peabody sat down beside her. “You want to help Marta, to do what’s right for her and her family.”
    “I do. I really do. She didn’t want Sly upset, and she said she’d take care of it.”
    “Take care of what?” Eve demanded.
    “It was just . . . Ms. Mobsley. Um, Marta was doing the audit on her trust fund because the trustees ordered it. Marta was just doing her job, but Ms. Mobsley was really upset, really mad about it. How it’s her money, and she wasn’t having any dried-up numbers cruncher giving the assholes—that’s her word, okay—any lever to cut her off. She said Marta was going to be sorry if she didn’t do what she wanted.”
    “What did she want?”
    “I think, I guess, she wanted Marta to, you know, tweak some numbers so everything looked fine. But the thing is, I’m not supposed to talk about accounts and people.”
    “You’re relaying information to the police about a possible threat,” Eve reminded her.
    “It’s just I helped run some of the numbers, research some of the data, and well, Ms. Mobsley was sort of cheating. She was taking funds she wasn’t supposed to, and covering it, sort of, so it looked like approved expenses. And the trustees are the client, so Marta had to give them a clean report. Marta told her if she kept harassing her she’d have to report the communications to the trustees, and the court. And Ms. Mobsley got mega-steamed. Marta had me come in and close the door, and she told me—I heard some of it anyway—but she said since I was assisting on the audit, I needed to know. And I needed to tell her asap if Ms. Mobsley or anyone else contacted me about the audit, or tried to pressure me about it.”
    “Has anyone?”
    “No. People like Ms. Mobsley don’t notice assistants, I don’t think. I was supposed to tell her—Ms. Mobsley—if she contacted the office again that Marta was unavailable. But to log the call and everything she said. If it didn’t stop, she was going to tell Sly, and they were going to inform the trustees.”
    “Do you have Mobsley’s full name and contact information?”
    “Yes, sure. Candida Mobsley. I can get you her address—addresses,” Josie corrected. “And the trustees. Should I tell Sly? Do you think I should tell him?”
    “I do, but for now, tell me about yesterday. Did Mobsley try to contact