“You knew him fairly well. His habits, his likes, his dislikes.”
“Yes, or I thought I did.”
“Would he have told any of the women he was intimate with about the vault?”
“I’ve asked myself that over and over. I can’t say absolutely not. Lieutenant, in the last year or two, he wasn’t as vigorous, physically or mentally, as he had been. A bit—sometimes more than a bit—forgetful, occasionally confused. He recognized it, and it frustrated him. The physical limits of his age frustrated him. But recognizing those limitsis a reason he began to turn over more and more of the business to his children. Or so I believe.
“He was proud of what he’d built, had every right to be proud. I don’t know why he filled that vault with what didn’t belong to him, could never really belong to him. I don’t know.”
Chapter Eight
Eve had Uma go over the movements and timing again, then asked her to send Tyler in.
He sat stiffly, and worry covered him like his dark suit.
“Tell me about your relationship with Henry Barrister.”
“He was my employer, and provided a very pleasant work atmosphere.”
When Eve said nothing, Tyler cleared his throat. “I liked and respected him, and believe that was mutual. He enjoyed backgammon, and would invite me to play on occasion. In fact, he left me his set, his prized backgammon set, an Asian antique of jade and bone, along with the more usual one we often played on.”
“You must have had conversations.”
“We did, of course. On some of those occasions he would share his concerns and opinions with me.”
“What sort of concerns and opinions?”
“A wealthy man’s, Lieutenant. The market, politics, business. He might speak of whatever woman or women he had an interest in.”
“But never about the vault or its contents?”
“No, never. But…”
“But?”
“The current situation has caused me to think back, to try to, I suppose, reinterpret some of those conversations. He did admire the finer things, Lieutenant, and owned many. Art, of course, jewelry. He would say—I’ve thought about this in depth since this morning. He would say a man’s possessions prove his worth. What he can obtain and hold lift him above those who can only admire.”
Tyler’s eyes clouded as he looked away. “I was very fond of him, Lieutenant, and it’s very distressing to realize not just what he’d done but that he measured his own worth by what he hid in that vault. He’d built a business that spans the globe, he had two children, two lovely granddaughters. He sat with presidents and kings, but he measured himself by what he’d taken from others. It breaks my heart.”
She ran him through the rest, including some nudges on his personal life. Then decided to take the cook in her own domain. The kitchen.
“We should be on our way in about five minutes. Ten at the most,” Morbelli told her.
“I’ve got one more interview. The story’s going to break within the hour.” Less, Eve thought. “Let whoever needs to know on your end know.”
She walked to the kitchen, where Roarke sat comfortably at the island as the cook took a tray of cookies out of an oven.
The smell convinced Eve that heaven was a bakery.
“Sit down right there,” Divine told her. “I’ll get you some coffee to go with these. The girls favor these, and I hope they’ll help a little.”
“Ms. Fortigue.”
“When someone’s given the name Divine, why wouldn’t she like to be called by it?”
She slid another baking tray in the oven. “Last batch,” she said asshe went to get the coffee. “I like watching the crime shows—the real ones and the made-up ones. I think I know what you’re going to ask me. You’ll want me to go over this horrible morning again to make sure it all lines up. And you’ll wonder how I could’ve worked here all these years and not known Mr. Henry’s secret. Who I might’ve told about it if I had known.”
She put cookies on a plate, set it on the island. “You try one of these. You’ve had a long day, as we all have. I’m going to make beef bourguignon, as the family needs something hearty and filling. Is it all right if I start on that while we talk?”
