In Death 05 - Ceremony in Death

down. I'll answer your questions."
    "She can't make you go through this, Chas." Isis slipped into the room like smoke. Her gown was gray today, the color of storm clouds, and swirled around her ankles as she moved to him. "You're entitled to your privacy, under any law."
    "I can insist that he answer my questions," Eve corrected. "I'm investigating murder here. He is, of course, entitled to counsel."
    "It isn't a lawyer he needs, but peace." Isis whirled, her eyes alive with emotion, and Chas took her hands, lifted them to his lips, pressed his face to them.
    "I have peace," he said quietly. "I have you. Don't worry so. You have to go down and open, and I have to do this."
    "Let me stay."
    He shook his head, and the look they exchanged had Eve staring in surprise. It was baffling enough to speculate on their physical relationship, but what she saw pass between them wasn't sex. It was love. It was devotion.
    It should have been laughable, the way Isis had to lean down, bend that goddess body to reach his lips with hers. Instead, it was poignant.
    "You have only to call," she told him. "Only to wish for me."
    "I know." He gave her hand a quick, intimate pat to send her off. She shot Eve one last look of barely controlled rage and swept out.
    "I doubt I would have survived without her," Chas said as he stared at the door. "You're a strong woman, Lieutenant. It would be difficult for you to understand that kind of need, that kind of dependence."
    Once she would have agreed. Now she wasn't so sure. "I'd like to record this conversation, Mr. Forte."
    "Yes, of course." He sat, and as Peabody engaged her recorder, mechanically poured the tea. He listened without glancing up as Eve recited the traditional caution.
    "Do you understand your rights and obligations?"
    "Yes. Would you care for sweetener?"
    She looked down at her tea with some impatience. It smelled suspiciously like what Mira insisted on serving her. "No."
    "I've added a bit of honey to yours, Officer." He sent Peabody a sweet smile. "And a bit of... something else. I think you'll find it soothing."
    "Smells pretty good." Cautious, Peabody sipped, tasted home, and smiled back. "Thanks."
    "When's the last time you saw your father?"
    Caught off guard by the abruptness of Eve's question, Chas looked up quickly. The hand holding his cup shook once, violently. "The day he was sentenced. I went to the hearing and I watched them take him away. They kept him in full restraints and they closed and locked the door on his life."
    "And how did you feel about that?"
    "Ashamed. Relieved. Desperately unhappy. Or perhaps just desperate. He was my father." Chas took a deep gulp of tea, as some men might take a gulp of whiskey. "I hated him with all of my heart, all of my soul."
    "Because he killed?"
    "Because he was my father. I hurt my mother deeply by insisting on attending his trial. But she was too battered emotionally to stop me from doing as I chose. She could never stop him, either. Though she did leave him eventually. She took me and left him, which was, I think, a surprise to all of us."
    He stared down into his cup, as if contemplating the pattern of the leaves skimming the bottom. "I hated her, too, for a very, very long time. Hate can define a person, can't it, Lieutenant? It can twist them into an ugly shape."
    "Is that what happened to you?''
    "Nearly. Ours was not a happy home. You wouldn't expect that it could be with a man like my father dominating it. You suspect I could be like him." Chas's sensual voice remained calm. But his eyes were swirling with emotions.
    It was the eyes you watched during interview, Eve thought. The words often meant nothing. "Are you?"
    " 'Blood will tell.' Is that Shakespeare?" He shook his head a little. "I'm not quite sure. But isn't that what all children live with, and fear no matter what their parents, that blood will tell?"
    She lived with it, she feared it, but she couldn't allow herself to be swayed by it. "How strong an influence was he on your life?"
    "There couldn't have been a stronger one. You're an efficient investigator, Lieutenant. I'm sure you've studied the records by now, run the discs, watched them. You would have seen a charismatic man, terrifyingly so. A man who considered himself above the law -- any and all laws. That kind of steely arrogance is in itself compelling."
    "Evil can be compelling to some."
    "Yes." His lips curved without humor. "You'd know that, in your line of work. He wasn't a man you could...