In Death 03 - Immortal in Death

rehearsals. Doesn't seem like he'd have much time to boff a chorus dancer."
    "Some men work fast." She offered a hand so the dresser could clasp on a half dozen jangling bracelets.
    "A public fight, plenty of witnesses, even some handy media coverage. You know, on the face of things, it makes your dual alibis hold more water. If I was the kind of cop to believe in the face of things."
    Jerry turned to the mirror to check the line of her costume. "What do you want, Dallas? I'm working here."
    "Me, too. Let me tell you how I see it, Jerry. You and your pal had a little deal going with Pandora. But she's greedy. It looks like she's going to screw you and your partners. A handy thing happens. Mavis comes in, there's a fight. For a sharp woman like you, that could spark an idea."
    Jerry picked up a glass, knocked back the sparkling sapphire contents. "You've already got two suspects, Dallas. Who's being greedy now?"
    "Did the three of you discuss it? You, Justin, and Redford? You and Justin go off and solidify an alibi. Redford doesn't. Maybe he's not as smart. Maybe you were supposed to back him up, too, but you didn't. He takes her to Leonardo's. You're waiting. Did things get out of hand then? Which one of you picked up the cane?"
    "This is ludicrous. Justin and I were at his place. Security verifies that. If you want to accuse me of something, bring a warrant. Until then, back off."
    "Were you and Justin smart enough not to contact each other since the fight? I don't think he's got your control, Jerry. In fact, I'm banking on it. We'll have the transmission records by morning."
    "So what if he called me? So what?" Jerry raced to the doorway as Eve strolled away. "It doesn't prove anything. You've got nothing."
    "I've got another dead body." Eve paused, looked back. "I don't suppose either one of you are going to alibi each other for last night, are you?"
    "Bitch." Incensed, Jerry heaved the glass, catching a hapless dresser in the shoulder. "You're not hanging anything on me. You've got nothing."
    As the noise and confusion of backstage rose to a new level, Mavis shut her eyes. "Oh, Dallas. How could you? Leonardo needs her for ten more changes."
    "She'll do her job. She wants the spotlight too much not to. I'm going to find Roarke."
    "He's out front," Mavis said wearily as Leonardo rushed over to soothe his star. "Don't go out there looking like that. Put this on. It's already been run. Without the overdress and the scarves, no one will recognize it."
    "I'm just going to -- "
    "Please. It would mean a lot if you were wearing one of his designs out front. It's a simple line, Dallas. And I'll find some shoes that fit you somewhere."
    Fifteen minutes later, with her torn clothes stuffed in her bag, Eve spotted Roarke in the front row. He was applauding politely as a trio of large-breasted models jiggled wildly in transparent rompers.
    "Great. Just what we want to see women wearing when they walk down Fifth."
    Roarke lifted a shoulder. "Actually, a great many of his designs are very attractive. And I wouldn't mind seeing you in that number on the right."
    "Keep dreaming." She crossed her legs and the flow of black satin over them whispered in response. "How long do we have to stay?"
    "Until the bitter end. When did you buy this?" He ran a fingertip over the narrow straps draped over her biceps.
    "I didn't. Mavis made me put it on. It's one of his without the frills."
    "Keep it. It suits you."
    She only grunted. Her torn jeans suited her mood a great deal better. "Ah, here comes the diva."
    Jerry glided out, and at each step of her dainty glass shoes, the runway exploded into color. Eve paid little attention to the billowing balloon skirt and sheer bodice that caused such a furor of approval from the attendees. She watched Jerry's face, and only her face as fashion critics murmured busily into their recorders and dozens of buyers ordered frantically from their porta-links.
    Jerry's face was serene as she waved aside dozens of muscular young men who prostrated themselves in front of her. She sold the outfit with graceful twists and turns and clever choreography that had her stepping nimbly onto a pyramid of hard male bodies.
    The crowd applauded. Jerry posed, then aimed icy blue eyes at Eve.
    "Ouch," Roarke murmured. "I'd say that was a direct hit. Is there something I should know?"
    "She'd like to rip my face off," Eve said mildly. "My mission has been a success." Satisfied, she sat back and prepared to enjoy the rest of