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“All right, not completely understood, but appreciated anyway.”
“I hear he bangs like a turbohammer.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t like Roarke.”
“Oh, that was cruel. Maybe I’ll give him a spin after all.” Nadine fluffed back her hair. “I’m going to say good night to Roundtree and Connie. I’ve got my car service, so if you’re done with the Miras I can give them a lift home.”
“And pump her for impressions.”
“Naturally.” Nadine gave one of her strands of pearls a quick twirl. “But I’d give them a lift anyway.”
“Yeah, you would. They can leave anytime.”
When she returned to the dining room, Julian was slumped, pale and obviously miserable, over a cup of coffee.
“You’ve been read your rights?” Eve began.
“Yes. She said it was for my protection.”
“That’s exactly right.” Eve took a seat across from him. “Do you know what happened?”
“What?”
“You know Marlo and Matthew found K.T.’s body on the roof.”
“Yes.” He shook his head as if coming out of a dream. “God. God! It’s horrible. I don’t know what to do.”
“You’re doing it right now by talking to us. Were you up on the roof tonight, Julian?”
“No—I mean, yes.” He sent Eve a pitiful look. “I’m confused. I had too much to drink. I shouldn’t have, but I was upset after that scene at dinner. I want you to know I wasn’t—I’d never try to, ah, start something with you, and right in front of you,” he said, appealing to Roarke.
“But you would in back of me?”
Julian actually went a shade paler. “I didn’t mean—”
“Just winding you up, mate,” Roarke said, smile very, very cool.
“Oh. Okay, I wouldn’t want you to think I’d hit on your wife. She’s fascinating—I mean to say I’m kind of fascinated, and playing you, it gets intense with Marlo. But I—and Marlo and I aren’t—not really. Just for work, for show. It’s just part of the deal. I mean, I would—they’re both beautiful women, but—”
“Is that a requirement?” Eve asked. “Being beautiful.”
“All women are beautiful,” he said and smiled for the first time.
“Including K.T.?”
“Sure. Well, she could be.”
“And did the two of you start something?”
“Not recently.”
“What would be ‘not recently’?”
“Oh, well, a couple of years ago, I guess. We had a little fun. And a couple months ago. She was feeling down, so I cheered her up.”
“Did she want more cheering up?”
He shifted, stared hard at his coffee. “The thing is, she didn’t really want that. She really wanted to complain about Marlo, or to get me to complain about her—Marlo, I mean—to Roundtree.”
