Inherit the Dead

hugged, though there was something tentative about it on Angel’s side, Perry thought.
    The nanny immediately took a step back, as if she didn’t want to be anywhere near Norman Loki.
    Still holding his daughter, Loki said, “I drove in from Long Island, soon as I heard.”
    Perry almost asked why before remembering this wasn’t his interview, at least not his side of it. Better to keep his mouth shut.
    Loki wore a sport jacket, a Hawaiian shirt with parrots on it, lightweight slacks, and loafers with no socks. Somewhere along the way, he had confused Fire Island in the summer with Long Island in the dead of winter.
    Watson told Fleming to take Angel and her nanny to the break room and get them some coffee while he spoke to Mr. Loki.
    The younger detective did as he was told, and Perry continued leaning against the wall, staying mum.
    When the room was cleared, Watson sat down opposite the dead woman’s ex-husband, Perry positioned in the background between them, like an umpire presiding over a tennis match.
    “We’re sorry for your loss,” Watson said, an opening lob.
    “Thank you,” Loki said.
    Watson informed the man that their interview was being recorded. Then they volleyed over how Loki had heard about his wife’s death, why he thought she might have jumped, and so on until Watson finally started in with questions geared toward winning points.
    “Mr. Loki, did you stand to inherit your wife’s estate?”
    He shook his head. “No, Angel will inherit almost all of Julia’s estate. I’m the executor, so I receive a nominal fee, of course, and our divorce provided me with a small . . . stipend . . . but otherwise, I will get nothing.”
    Point Loki.
    Except that Perry wasn’t buying it. He cleared his throat. “First time I saw you, you denied any knowledge of the inheritance papers.”
    Watson gave him a look but didn’t say anything.
    “Frankly, I didn’t think it was any of your concern. And I didn’t see how it would help find my daughter.”
    Clearly, he’d had time to firm up his story.
    Watson asked, “Do you think Angel may have hated her mother enough to kill her?”
    “Hell, no!” Loki said, and if that was supposed to be outrage, it came out undecided, at least to Perry’s ears. “There was no gain in it for her. She was going to get half the estate—more money than she could ever need, and on her twenty-first birthday, just around the corner. No, no, that makes no sense.”
    Perry wondered if Loki was trying to convince them or himself. And what was it Angel had just said that was gnawing at him?
    Before they could go any further, the burly detective popped in again, and Watson snapped, “What the hell is it now?”
    “The ME just sent up the preliminary tox screen,” the big cop said. “I’m not tryin’ to set a record for interrupting an interview . . . just figured you’d wanna see this, toot sweet.” He handed Watson a file folder.
    “Yeah, thanks,” Watson said, with a faint tone of apology, to the detective’s exiting backside.
    Watson scanned quickly, gave Perry an unreadable glance, then turned his attention back to Loki.
    “Did your ex-wife take drugs?” Watson asked.
    Loki shrugged. “I wasn’t in charge of her even when we were married. But as far as I know . . . when we were married, anyway? No. Never did know her to take drugs. Well . . . almost never.”
    “You’re going to clarify that, right?”
    The husband sighed. “I know I shouldn’t say this, but lately . . . during all this unpleasantness with Angel’s disappearance . . . I gave Julia a bunch of my sleeping pills. She asked, and I gave. I’m sure she could have gotten them from her doctor, but I had them, so I didn’t see anything wrong with it . . . Why, is there a problem?”
    Watson was shaking his head, and Christo felt as if he already knew what was coming; but he still felt a little sick when Watson said, “Your ex-wife had tranquilizers in her system when she died.”
    A hand that went to Loki’s mouth, but he stayed quiet.
    “We’ll have to wait for the full autopsy,” Watson said, “but it does make it look like Julia may have taken her own life . . . Again, I’m sorry for your loss. I need to speak to Mr. Christo a moment alone. If you could just wait in the hall, briefly . . . ?”
    Loki nodded, sighed, took a long time getting to his feet but no time at all leaving the room.
    Then Perry sat down across from Watson again, though the former leveled the first