The Maze
Page 102

 Catherine Coulter

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Lacey was watching his face. There was no sign of pain, of anger, of remembered betrayal. Nothing.
"So you're saying you know why he killed her?" "No, that's not what we're saying. I'm sorry, Douglas," Lacey said, sitting forward, extending her hand to lightly touch his forearm. "It seems that there were some things about Belinda none of us knew. We just came from home. Mother saw a photo of Marlin Jones. She fainted. She'd seen him, she said, seen him kissing Belinda in the driveway. At least that's what she told us. You know Mother. One can never be quite certain if the flag is going to be flying high or hanging at half-mast." "That crazy old lady is probably right about this. Belinda was a gold-plated faithless bitch."
They all turned to see Candice Addams Madigan standing in the doorway, a flustered Marge behind her, waving her hands. Douglas smiled and said, "It's all right, Marge. Tell you what, anyone else comes, just wave them on in. Hello, Candice."
Candice Addams Madigan walked into the office, head high, beautifully dressed in a pale blue wool suit and a Hermes scarf. "She was a bitch and she did cheat on you."
"But was the man Marlin Jones? I doubt it. Where could she have met him?"
Candice gave her husband a scornful look. "Belinda had low tastes. I've heard that she went to dives, to real low-class places. That's where she would have met this killer. Yes, I'll bet she did sleep with him. She slept with everyone. Why don't you ask her?' She turned and gave Lacey a vicious look. "Yes, ask the little princess here. She probably went with her sister. Hell, she might have slept with him too."
Lacey had blood in her eye. Her heart was pounding, she was ready to kill. It was Savich who grabbed her wrist and kept her in her place. "Ignore her," he said low, only for her hearing. "She's miserable-she's so jealous. Let it be. Let's just listen. Consider this a bad play. Let's see if we can't figure out the theme of the play."
She tried to pull away from him. She couldn't take any more from this miserable woman. "Okay, then, Agent Sherlock, this is an order from your superior. Don't move and be quiet."
She tried to calm her breathing, but it was hard. "That's different, then, but I still want to pound her."
"I know, but later. Now let's just listen."
"What are you two talking about?"
Savich smiled at Candice Madigan. "I was just telling Sherlock that you looked pregnant to me. She insists you're not,
that you look too slender. But I can tell your stomach is out there. Who's right?"
Candice immediately sucked in her stomach, taking two steps away from Savich. Then she realized what he'd done to her. She dropped her hands to her sides, straightened really tall, and shot a look toward her husband. He merely smiled at her. "Go ahead, Candice. After all, I don't have a client for another twenty minutes. Feel free to talk about whatever."
Candice Madigan walked to her husband, kissed him on the mouth, then turned to say to Lacey, "I'm not pregnant but I will be soon. You keep away from my husband, do you hear me? You haven't seen mean until you've seen me mean."
"Yes, I hear you," Lacey said. Then she smiled. "You and Douglas planning a baby, then?"
"We will be soon. It's none of your business. You're a little gold-digging tart, just like your sister. Stay away from Douglas."
"Oh, she will," Savich said. "Now, Candice, how do you know so much about Belinda? She was killed seven years ago. You weren't even around then."
"I'm an investigative reporter. I looked up everything. I spoke to people who'd known her. She betrayed Douglas, over and over again. All the women in your crowd knew about it. With this Marlin Jones character? Why not? Again, it wouldn't have been a problem for her to run into him at any one of the low-class bars she frequented."
Savich pulled out his little black notebook and his ballpoint pen. "Could you give me some names, please?"
She turned stiller than Lot's wife. "I did this last year. I don't remember now."
"Give Mr. Savich two names, Candice. Just two."
"All right. Lancing Corruthers and Dorthea McDowell. They're both rich and idle and know everything about everyone. They live right here in the city."
Savich wrote down the names. "Thank you. Actually, I'm pleased that you could come up with even one name. I'm impressed."
"I am too," Douglas said.
"They knew all about her too," she added, nodding toward Lacey.