In Death 23 - Born in Death by authors_sort Page B

daze.”
    “You knew them.”
    “Yes, very well. It’s such a shock, such a loss. I’ll come back later, Jake. I just wanted to see how you were.”
    “It’s all right,” Eve told him. “I’m about done.” She flipped through her memory of the pecking order. “You’re a vice president of the firm.”
    “That’s right.”
    But not a partner, Eve thought, despite his expensive suit, his glossy looks. “As such, did you have much contact with either victim?”
    “Not much, not at the office. Of course, Nat and Bick were friends of my son’s, so I knew them better outside the office than most of our account execs.” Randall moved to his son, laid a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “They were a lovely couple.”
    “Did either of them express any concerns to you, inside or outside the office?”
    “Why, no.” Randall’s brow furrowed. “They were both excellent at their work, and happy—as far as I know—in their personal lives.”
    “I need to ask—it’s routine—about your whereabouts on the night of the murders.”
    “I was entertaining clients. Sasha Zinka and Lola Warfield. We had cocktails and dinner at Enchantment downtown, then went on to Club One to hear some jazz.”
    “What time did you pack it in for the night?”
    “It must have been close to two when we left the club. We shared a cab uptown, I dropped them off. I can’t be sure, but I think it was nearly three when I got home.”
    “Thanks.”
    “My girlfriend and I were at Pop’s—my grandfather’s,” Jake said when Eve looked at him. “I guess we left there around midnight, twelve-thirty. Went to my place from there. She stayed over.”
    “Appreciate the time.” Eve got to her feet. “If I have any more questions, I’ll be in touch.”
    Eve went from office to office, interrupting meetings and ’link calls, wading through tears and anxiety. Everyone liked Nat and Bick, nobody knew of any problems. She got a little more out of the account assistant Natalie had shared with two other execs.
    She found Sarajane Bloomdale in the break room, sniffling over a cup of tea that smelled like wet moss. She was a tiny woman with a short black balloon of hair that cut across her eyebrows in thick, ruler-straight bangs. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her nose pink.
    “Been out for a couple days,” Sarajane told Eve. “Caught a head cold. Sucks, you know? Mostly, I was sleeping it off, and then yesterday Maize—she’s one of the other assistants—she called me. Hysterical, crying. She told me. I didn’t believe her. I kept saying, ‘That’s justbullshit, Maize.’ I kept saying that, and she kept saying how it’s true, they’re dead. And I’d say—”
    “I get it. How long did you work with Natalie?”
    “About two years. She was great. Didn’t expect me to run around doing all the grunt work like some. They’ll run your feet off around here. But Natalie was great. Organized, you know? You didn’t have to forever find where she forgot she put something. And she’d remember stuff like your birthday, or just bring in pastries now and then. And when I broke up with my boyfriend a couple months ago, she took me out to lunch.”
    “Was she working on anything specific the last couple weeks? Did she make any unusual requests?”
    “Nothing out of the usual. She was working on something, locked her door a lot lately.” Sarajane glanced around Eve, checking the doorway. “I sort of figured she was doing wedding stuff,” Sarajane whispered. “We’re not supposed to do personal business on company time, but, you know, your wedding and all.”
    “How about transmissions made through you, correspondence she asked you to send?”
    “Just the routine stuff. But you know, she logged back in after hours a couple times lately. I happened to notice when I checked her daily calendar on her office unit. Just noticed the log-in. I guess I said something to her about it. Like I said, ‘Gee, Natalie, your nose is going to fall off if