“I don’t know who she came with. I do know she flirted with Henry, and he flirted back. Not just the way you might at a party, but more, and it hurt my feelings. He had that look in his eye, the one he had when he looked around at me when I was twenty.”
With a half laugh, she set the water cylinder down again. “It still hurts a little. I saw her a few more times. But as I said, she wasn’t the only one. She was just sort of the straw, you know? The last straw. Whatever that means.”
“Right? What does that mean?”
Lacey laughed again, and meant it. “Who the hell knows? She wasn’t the only one. The last few months, he fooled around plenty, but this one stuck in my head. In fact, a while back, I was in New York—the whole family—and I actually saw her coming out of a shop. She saw me, too. And she gave me this look.”
Lacey hissed between her teeth. “Excuse my language, she fucking smirked at me, then strolled away. I wanted to punch her one.”
“When was that?”
“Last December. We took the kids to New York for a week.”
“Do you think this woman might have spent time with Henry?”
“Yeah, wouldn’t surprise me a bit. It was that look. He didn’t marry her. He told me when we split he was done with marriage. He had to be because he couldn’t stop looking around. At least he figured that one out. I guess the things in the vault are like the women. He just couldn’t stop wanting what he didn’t have.”
“Could you give me some names, other people at that party?”
“It was so long ago, but… I remember some. A few I keep in touch with. I could send those to you.”
“I’d appreciate that. Thank you for your time and cooperation, Ms. O’Ryan.”
“It’s no problem. Look, could you, when you find out who did this, could you let me know? We’re sending flowers to Aileen and her kids. It feels like it would be awkward to go to any memorial, but I’d really like to know the person who killed Henry’s son is behind bars for it.”
“I can do that. If you think of anything else—maybe the name of this particular woman will come back to you—please get in touch.”
“Absolutely.”
If she had it right, Eve thought, they—whoever—said the third time was the charm. Which made no sense. But she believed, in this case, the fourth time hit it.
She wrote her conversations up. It always helped to read as well as hear them. Then she walked back to Roarke’s office.
“Why is it a straw? Why is it the last straw?”
“It broke the camel’s back.”
“What’s a camel have to do with it?”
“That’s the expression.” He swiveled in his chair to face her. “The straw that broke the camel’s back.”
“Some straw isn’t going to do that. They’ve got those big, humpy backs.”
“That’s why it’s the last straw. It finally adds too much weight.”
“That’s stupid. Never mind. I think I hit on something with wife number four. Who also seems to be the most normal of Henry’s series of wives. How are you doing with the Interpol data?”
“I hope you can understand that I’ve found it very flattering to see how often I was investigated with no adverse results.”
“Should there have been?”
“Well, that depends on your point of view, doesn’t it then?”
“Right. Are you in a good place to stop?”
“I could be.”
“Maybe we could take that walk. It stopped raining, and I need to think. I sometimes think better when I run it by you, or somebody. And you’re here.”
