Death in Paradise (33 page)

I was so into my vision, I almost missed it when he said, "We'll reimburse you, of course." Of course. All I'd have to do would be complete seven hundred different forms, pressing hard so my writing would get through all five copies of each. So we'd observed the formalities, but as far as I was concerned, they could eat for free.

While Bernstein ordered up a feast for the two of them, Nihilani began to go through the questions he'd asked earlier. Step by step he walked me through the entire attack. What I did. What the attacker did. I told him everything I could remember, which was very little, struggling against the anxiety remembering brought. When I described being pinned to the bottom and trying to wiggle free, I felt like I was choking again.

"I kept trying to turn but I couldn't. He kept twisting and turning out of reach."

"He? Then you think it was a man?"

"A man. Or a strong woman. Someone pretty big, I think. He, or she, stayed behind me the whole time."

He nodded. "We checked out all the people on your boat, particularly the scuba divers. No one had an arm or wrist injury."

I shrugged. "There were other boats."

"Who knew you were going snorkeling?"

I thought about that. Who had I told? Laura. And of course Ed and Marie knew. And I'd told Rob Greene when we were talking after the panel. And Billy. Hadn't I told Billy? "Maybe I said something at breakfast. I can't remember. And I told someone in the hall, when there were who knows how many people around. The hotel might have had my name on a list... one that anyone could have checked." It was only a suggestion. I didn't know whether my name had appeared on any list or whether I'd been part of Pryzinski, party of three. "I suppose anyone could have seen me leaving the hotel, but I didn't get on the bus, so how would they know where I was going?"

Nihilani was giving me his stone-cold stare again. "You say you have absolutely no idea why someone might have wanted to hurt you?"

"Not hurt," I corrected. "Kill. None. I've gone over everything that's happened in the past few days and I don't come up with anything. Well, other than something so vague I can't make any sense out of it. I went to see Rory before I left the hospital—"

"You what?" Bernstein's narrow face tightened, the frown lines deepening.

"I was there. She was... is... one of our employees. And Jonetta and I were the ones who found her. I wanted to know how she was so I could report to the others when I got back. I thought she might like to see a familiar face. And I wanted to ask her why she did it. Just like you guys."

"Yeah," Bernstein said, "but we're detectives."

"Thought I read in the paper today that I'm a detective, too."

"Amateur," Nihilani said. He rolled his eyes. "Dumbest thing in the world a person can do, thinking they're better than the police at solving crimes."

That stung, but I wasn't getting into a pissing contest. "I couldn't agree more," I said. "That's why I'm leaving it all up to you. But it looks like you haven't got a clue, either."

"I wouldn't say that." Bernstein. He was more vulnerable to insults than Nihilani. I think I could have called Nihilani every bad thing I'd ever heard, going all the way back to the misconstrued epithet I'd hurled at my brother, Michael, when I was five, calling him a "piece of hell," and the man wouldn't even have blinked. "What else did Ms. Altschuler tell you?"

"Nothing. She was upset that I had come to Hawaii instead of my partner, Suzanne, who was supposed to come until she got sick. Rory seemed to think my presence was deliberate." I stopped. "Because of that article in the paper, perhaps? I assume you guys were responsible for that."

"Not us," Bernstein said. Not only more emotional but more comfortable with lying. Nihilani didn't like to communicate but I thought he also didn't like to lie.

"Staked goat," I said. I was sure they'd set me up. Thinking that I'd draw the bad guys, like moths to a flame, while they carefully watched and swooped down for the capture. Nice plan. Poor execution. Might be seen as an interesting bit of police work, if you weren't the goat.

One of the tortures they'd inflicted on the Salem witches was called
pressing
where they piled stones on the person until eventually she was crushed or suffocated because she couldn't breathe. I felt like that was being done to me here. I kept trying to stay uninvolved, trying to do my job and get out of here in one piece, but this business wouldn't let me alone. Things kept getting piled onto me by everyone—my co-workers, the bad guys, the cops—but the burden was starting to crush me.

"Look, if you guys are going to set me up like this, you've got to do a better job of protecting me." There was a lot more I could have said on the subject but it wasn't worth it. They knew what had happened. They knew they'd let me down. Or so I thought. Not on very good evidence—the presence of Robin Dunn on the boat, Bernstein's determined study of his shoes at the hospital, Nihilani's restless resettling in his chair when I accused them. Call it woman's intuition. But if I dwelled on it, I'd get too upset to talk. And then they'd hang around longer and I'd get wearier and and and.

But I did have one question I'd like answered. "Did Officer Dunn notice anything?" I asked, adding, "anything helpful?" Nihilani looked at Bernstein, who shook his head. Why was I not surprised.

"You were telling us about your conversation with Rory Altschuler," Bernstein reminded me.

"Rory said sooner or later you'd end up blaming her," I told them. "I asked her why? She wouldn't say anything, except that I already knew... how did she put it?... she said I knew too much already. I asked what she meant. She wouldn't answer. She said some dramatic thing to the effect that she'd carry her secret to the grave or die trying. She said, 'They can trust me.' "

"What is this too much that you know?" Nihilani asked. Actually, he didn't so much ask as growl.

"Beats me," I said. "I've gone over everything that's happened since I got here, and I can't figure it out." Bernstein smothered a yawn. "Look, if I'm boring you, why don't you leave?"

"Haven't eaten yet," he said, trying for lightness.

Nihilani made no such effort. "We'll go when we're done with our questions," he said. "What did she mean by 'They can trust me'?"

"I don't know."

"You sure?"

Bastard, I thought. "Do you think I'm just waiting till you leave so I can go solve the crime myself?" I said. "Of course I'm sure."

"Were you aware that Ms. Altschuler was embezzling money from the association accounts?" Nihilani asked.

"Rory? You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Nihilani looked like he'd never heard, or told, a joke in his life.

I shook my head. "How do you know she was embezzling?" I thought about Rory's computer, lurking in my bag. Were her records on her computer and did she have an accomplice who had destroyed my computer, thinking it was hers?

To my surprise, Nihilani answered the question. "Mr. Pullman told us. He said he was going through some association records, looking for an expense his wife thought had been improperly entered, and he kept finding things that didn't make sense. Repeated bills for identical amounts and consulting fees paid to Alt Corp. He was planning to spend the weekend going over accounts, but he'd barely begun when he got the call from us. By that time, though, he'd determined that Alt Corp. was nothing more than a bank account kept by Ms. Altschuler."

 

 

 

Chapter 23

 

Room service arrived and there was brief halt in the action while we ate. Not that I consider tea and soup eating. Tea and soup are culinary resting points. But the guys ate in a seriously hungry way. Watching them made me think of Andre, the man who loved his food. It always surprised me that Andre could be such a sympathetic guy when he was basically a creature of appetites. For food. For fun. For sex. For adventure. For solving crimes. It was true, I realized. Andre approached his work the same way he approached everything else, wholeheartedly, with determination and a fierce passion. Whatever the hour, as soon as they were gone I was going to call him. What the heck. He was used to being interrupted in the middle of the night.

We went all around Robin Hood's barn—or perhaps it was Davy Jones's locker—a few more times without finding anything more of interest. I'd been too busy fighting for my life to be observant. Short of a developing conviction that my assailant was either a man or a large woman, I had no insights. Despite the efficiency with which I'd put together the introduction with Jolene, I was in a frustratingly vague and dazed state. I was a 78 played at 33 RPMs. I didn't think I'd develop any insights unless I was left alone long enough to get my brain back in order. I said as much, hoping they'd go away. "Why don't you look at who signed up for scuba on those other boats?" I suggested. I remembered the threatening message I'd carefully saved. "And what about Lewis Broder? He left me a message saying he was going to get me."

"Say what?" Nihilani said. "Someone threatened you and you didn't tell us?"

I gave an airy shrug. "I'm so used to being threatened I hardly pay attention anymore." I couldn't resist a slight dig. "I mean, what would you have done if I told you? Send someone to watch my back? I did save the message, though. But I don't know what may have happened to my messages now that I've changed rooms. You can check."

Nihilani nodded to Bernstein. Bernstein picked up the phone. "Anything else you've neglected to share?" Nihilani asked. There was a definite growl in his voice, like he wished he was gnawing on my bones.
Go ahead,
I thought.
Gnaw.
I could hardly feel worse. But there was something scary about him. Expressionless people make me uneasy.

"Other than Rory promising I'd be sorry? Nothing that I can think of. Except that if you think I told Bill Berryman the details of the, uh, crime... you're wrong. I had neither seen nor spoken with him before the meeting at which he handed out those clippings." They exchanged meaningful glances. Meaningful to them. I had no idea what was going on. But why should anything have changed? I gave. They took. I stayed in the dark. "Is there something going on that I should know about?" I asked, not expecting an answer. Of course I didn't get one.

We sat in uncompanionable silence while Bernstein tracked down my messages, listened intently, and then held the phone out to Nihilani. "Here, you should listen to this."

Nihilani listened and then disconnected. "This the last you heard from him?"

I put my head on the arm of the sofa and closed my eyes, wishing someone would bring me a pillow and a blanket.

"Hey," Bernstein said, "don't go falling asleep on us." He repeated Nihilani's question.

"Jolene said she thought he'd checked out. She got one of these calls, too. He was just angry that you'd heard about his lie. She won't want to tell you this, but last night, when she walked him to the elevator, he tore her dress trying to get her to go upstairs with him. Give him a few drinks and the man's an animal."

Nihilani nodded. "We heard about that from your little friend. Now, what about that receipt, the one that was in your shoe? How could it have gotten into your shoe if you didn't put it there?"

I raised my head. He sat, staring and monolithic, and I felt returning tendrils of the anger I'd felt on the boat and at the hospital. Small, random flashes, like heat lightning. With these guys, I always felt used and abused.
Easy, Kozak,
I told myself.
Assume he's not accusing you. Pretend that security at the hotel isn't as tight as a sieve. Assume it's a fair question.
I thought about it. Who had been in my room? "Quite a lot of people have been in my room," I said. "There's the person who trashed it... that's your simplest explanation, of course... and Rory, before she became hysterical and tried to jump off the balcony. She was alone for a few minutes while I went to get her some water. Jonetta was there, but of course, so were the two of you. Eddie and Marie Pryzinski? You guy are detectives, so you tell me. Can you get fingerprints from a piece of paper like that?"

He got up and headed for the door. "You've got Lenny's card, right? Don't go anywhere without telling us. Just a precaution," he said.

"No. Lenny's card is somewhere in the mess downstairs. You'd better give me another. I'll feel safer knowing you're watching over me."

I didn't share my thoughts with him, burbling, angry thoughts that were rekindling some of my lost energy. Given his track record, checking in might give me a false sense of security that could get me killed. I just held out my hand, and took the new card. Andre, the man who sometimes advises me to button my lip in the name of public relations, would have been proud. A thought occurred to me as I watched their departing backs. "Do you have someone watching Rory's room?" I asked.

"No."

"Not that it's any of my business, but if I were you, I would," I said. "If she is a part of this, her accomplices might not consider her too reliable...."

Bernstein's shoulders had stiffened in what looked like a prelude to resentment. "Oh, never mind," I said. Nihilani grunted. One of those nondescript sounds that could have been yes or no or Oops, I forgot to take out the trash this morning, or even gas.