“It does—but you can have all you want.”
The living area exploited the view with a wall of glass and a wide terrace beyond it. Twilight slid over the city, all soft light while buildings speared and lanced into the deepening sky. It fell glimmering on the river.
Jordan gestured to a conversation grouping of sofas and chairs, all in black and white, making Eve think of a chessboard. A long, narrow fireplace ran flickering along a wall. Over it ranged charcoal and pencil studies of nudes—male and female.
Quiet music gurgled in the background.
“I have an aperitif,” he said, picking up a glass of pale gold liquid. “It’s coffee, black for you, isn’t it? My droid can see to that.”
“No, thanks.” Eve sat to put a stop to the pleasantries. “You were in a relationship with Willimina Karson.”
“Yes. I—that is to say, we ended it several weeks ago. Amicably.”
He sat as well, comfortable, at ease.
“You’re aware, are you not, Ms. Karson was seriously injured this morning in a bombing at the headquarters of Quantum Air?”
His face fell into somber and sorrowful lines—as sketchy, to Eve’s mind, as the charcoals. “I heard this morning. It’s beyond horrible. All those people! An employee of Quantum, an executive? I can’t imagine the mind-set, just can’t. Thank God Willi wasn’t killed, and I’m told is expected to fully recover.”
“Who told you?”
“I . . . heard the bulletin. I confess I’ve been glued to the reports throughout the day as I was sick with worry for Willi. The merger’s going through, even after all this, and she’s doing better already. Such a relief! Have you learned why this man, this maniac, did this?”
“You used some faulty glue if you missed the fact that Paul Rogan was as much a victim as the others who died or were injured this morning. You were aware Quantum and Econo have been in negotiations for several months?”
“Yes. Well aware, yes. Willi has an amazing head for business, and while my strengths run in the art world, she did share some of the ins and outs with me while we were romantically involved.”
He flashed that smile again, lifted his aperitif in an easy toast. “Much as the Icove book and vid indicate you share some of your work with Roarke.”
“You knew the particulars?”
More sober lines replaced the smile as Jordan shifted, leaned in just a little. “It was, and will be, a major shift for Econo, and Willi. She’s not in any way impulsive, and factors in advice, opinions as well as spreadsheets and figures.”
“She consulted you?” This from Roarke, baiting more than biting with a lifted eyebrow. “On this major deal?”
Jordan lifted a hand, palm up. “I do come from a business family, after all. A family that negotiates, deals, buys, sells—you certainly understand the scope. Naturally, Willi sought my advice and opinion, as understandably, your wife seeks yours.”
“And did she follow your advice and opinion?” Eve asked.
“I believe she weighed them carefully. I certainly encouraged the merger. Econo, in my opinion, can use a kind of polish, and Quantum will provide it. Did you know Pearson?” Jordan turned his attention to Roarke again. “A wonderful man. It’s a tragedy. I’ve sent my condolences to his wife, his daughter, his son. Oddly, Liana, his daughter, reminds me of Willi. Fascinating women, businesswomen with considerable style.”
“And disposable income,” Roarke said with a cold, cold smile.
Jordan froze under it.
“Who else was interested in your advice and opinion on the merger?” Eve demanded.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Who did you talk to about the merger, any details of it, as it was being negotiated and set up?”
He tried for insulted. “Whatever Willi discussed with me would have been confidential. I would never betray her trust in me.”
“Bollocks to that,” Roarke said mildly. “You’re a bloody sieve, as I learned myself at your cousin’s wedding when you tried to rope me into investing in some deal you were working—and gave me plenty of confidential details in an attempt to sweeten the pot.”
“I don’t recall—”
“I do, and could . . . refresh you if the lieutenant would give us a moment alone.” Roarke leaned forward. “Shall I refresh you?”
“I didn’t invite you into my home to be threatened and insulted.”
“I didn’t hear any threat.” Eve settled back. “But we’ll pass—for now—on the refreshing. You’re going to want to think who you talked to, shared details with—trying to score a deal or impress someone.”
“I listened to and advised Willi out of affection.” He spoke stiffly now. “I have more interesting things to talk about than some business merger. As I said, my interests are in the arts. Now, if that’s all, I have an engagement this evening.”
“You’re going to want to think,” Eve repeated. “Because if Roarke says you’re a sieve, you’re just that. Twelve people are dead. The woman you were romantically involved with is in the hospital. I’m willing to bet when I check—and I will—you didn’t contact the hospital to inquire on the status of a woman you parted ways with—amicably—only weeks ago.”
That brought on the faintest flush. Embarrassment, maybe, Eve thought. Anger more likely.
“You’re going to want to think who you talked to about the merger, who may have pumped you for details. You’re going to think carefully about someone with an interest in the stock market, someone who likes to gamble, someone who may have a military background.”
Banks set his glass aside. “I know a great many people, and many of those have interests in the stock market, many enjoy gambling—”
“Do you?”
He broke off, picked his drink up again. “I have financial advisers who worry about such matters. Art, as I said, is my field.”
“But the CEO of Econo consulted you regarding a major decision?”
“Pillow talk.” He brushed it away. “And a woman’s natural inclination to consult a man with some experience. Frankly, I had no real interest in Willi’s business, and certainly didn’t dine out on the details of it. In any case, we haven’t been involved for weeks. Now, you’ll have to excuse me.”
Eve rose. “You’re going to want to think,” she said again. “Because if my investigation links you to the men who instigated the bombing, I’ll find a way to tie you as an accessory. You wouldn’t like it.”
His color rose deep this time, smearing away the charm. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve never harmed anyone in my life! I insist you leave or I’ll be forced to call security.”
Now Roarke rose. “It’s my building, you arse, and my security. You’d be wise to heed the lieutenant’s warning. Oh, and here’s another, Liana won’t give a wanker like you the time of day. Done?” he asked Eve.
“For now. Think,” she repeated before she walked to the door with Roarke. She glanced back to see Jordan’s face, a mask of shaky rage.
Perfect.
“That was a good scary Roarke,” she commented on the way to the elevator.
“I’ll add, you did a good scary cop as well.” He took her hand, kissed her fingers. “Teamwork.”
“He’ll think. He won’t be able to stop thinking. Maybe it’ll lead somewhere, because he damn well talked plenty about the merger. Puffing himself up with inside intel. It’s all the fuck over him.”
She took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders. “Let’s go home, eat, keep up the teamwork. You can start the last part by finding out who the wanker’s financial advisers are—and maybe how much he’s invested in Quantum and/or Econo.”
“Delighted.”
She let Roarke drive so she could send a quick roundup of the interview to her team.
“I don’t get why Karson, who comes off smart and steady would hook up with a useless user like Banks. Sure, he looks good, but if that’s a thing, just bang and move on.”
“The heart wants what it wants, sees what it needs to see.”