In Death 23 - Born in Death

be a problem. I’m sorry.” She flashed a brilliant smile at Peabody. “I can’t remember your name.”
    “Detective Peabody.”
    “Nice to meet you. Well, not nice, I guess. It’s awful, but a little exciting, too.”
    “Lola glues herself to the screen for the crime reports,” Sasha explained.
    “And here we are in the middle of one. Or right on the sidelines. And I’m being horrible. I met Natalie a couple of times. She was very sweet, it seemed to me.”
    As she spoke, she moved to the long bar at one end of the office, took a bottle of water from a cold box. “Anyone?”
    “No, thanks.” Eve waited a beat while Lola moved to perch on the arm of Sasha’s chair. “When was the business dinner set up with Randall Sloan?”
    “Mmm.” Lola glanced down at Sasha. “Couple of days before, wasn’t it? We generally meet with him every quarter.”
    “That’s right,” Sasha confirmed. “We’d had to postpone an earlier meeting because we were out of the country for a few days right after the first of the year.”
    “Who set it up?”
    “Hmm.” Lola furrowed her brow. “I guess Ran did. It’s usual for him to get in touch, set up a meeting, or an evening out.”
    “In the course of your business or conversations with Mr. Sloan, did he mention any difficulties with Natalie Copperfield or Bick Byson?”
    “No.” Sasha took the ball. “Their names never came up. We work directly with Ran. We did meet her, and her fiancé, as I said. At Jacob Sloan’s home. She—Natalie—was friendly with his grandson.”
    “Ms. Copperfield handles your sister’s financials.”
    “That’s right. When Anna and her friends went into business, I recommended the firm, and spoke with Ran personally on who he thought would be best for them. He assigned Natalie. She and Anna hit it off well—so I’m told—when Natalie flew out to meet with her.”
    “Your sister was satisfied with Ms. Copperfield’s work.”
    “I didn’t hear any complaints. And I would have.”
    “Would you ever,” Lola confirmed. “Anna doesn’t suffer in silence. Are you looking inside the firm for a suspect? I assumed it was something personal and—well—passionate. Like a jealous ex or unrequited love.”
    “We’re looking everywhere,” Eve told her, and rose. “If you remember anything or think of something, you can contact me at Central.”
    “That’s all?” Lola’s lips moved into a pout of disappointment. “I was hoping we’d get grilled.”
    “Maybe next time. Thanks for your time,” Eve added.
    She waited until they were outside, hiking back to their vehicle. “Impressions?”
    “Straightforward, confident, calm. Business as usual on the date for the dinner with Sloan, and they don’t strike me as the type to cover for an employee—even if they are on friendly terms. There’s Zinka’s sister’s connection to the first vic, but if I go with the gut, I can’t see either or both of them committing double murders, or attaching themselves to same to keep the sister out of a jam. And they’re way rich. If this is about money, they don’t need to cheat to make more.”
    “It’s not about need, it’s about greed and power,” Eve corrected. “But I didn’t get any vibe there. If it was the sister’s account that sent up the red flag for Copperfield, and either of them knew about it, they’re damn cool. What do we have on Anna Kerlinko’s whereabouts on the night?”
    Peabody took out her memo book as she slid into the car. “Figuring the time difference, she was having breakfast with her current lover when Copperfield was murdered, and in her office by nine, her time. Got wits. She couldn’t have zipped here, done them, zipped back.”
    “We move on.”
    Using geography as much as her own checklist, she maneuvered the six blocks east to take the New York branch of the law firm representing the Bullock Foundation. They’d been assigned to Copperfield within the last few months, Eve mused, and had yet another connection with Byson representing one of the partner’s nieces.
    The firm had its offices in an elegant old brownstone with the outer office as quiet as a church and manned by a woman who sat bathed in the colored light that seeped through the stained glass of the streetside window.
    She was a sharp looker with her red hair in a long, swooping curve. Eve badged her and got several surprised blinks in response.
    “I don’t understand.”
    “Badge,” Eve said helpfully. “Cops. Now you