Knife Edge (A Dead Cold Mystery Book 27) by Blake Banner (most inspirational books of all time .TXT) 📗

them were a couple of sculptures of unidentifiable shape positioned on stands, and hanging on the walls were canvases with pieces of mannequins attached to them, all with their eyes extracted and the sockets painted black. A large glossy sign by the door said that this was an exhibition by Zack Fuks, entitled Blind Faith.

As we approached the small group, the man I assumed was Zack Fuks was saying, “I adored her. It was an insane, wild, searching passion. I could not get enough of her. Truly? I think I burned her out, from the inside out. I was too much for her and she could not take it. I used to call her my faith. My Faith. But she was completely ignorant of the meaning of our relationship. Do you understand? She could not see how our union of flesh and soul would lead to the fruition of my art. In the end, when she had nothing more to give me, she left. It destroyed me, but in my spiritual death, my art was born. That is why I call this exhibition, Blind Faith. Who are you?”

This last was directed, with an arched eyebrow, at Dehan. Sonia was watching me with some alarm. I smiled at her.

“Hello, Sonia. I am sorry to interrupt you here, but there are some questions we need to ask you about your sister.”

The guy who was obviously Dr. Garrido was frowning at us. “What is this? Who are you?”

I showed him my badge. “New York Police Department, sir. I am Detective Stone, this is my partner, Detective Dehan. We just need a few minutes of Ms. Laplant’s time.”

He turned to Sonia with a face like a pay cut. “What is this about, Sonia?”

“My sister,” she said it like an apology. “I told you about her, and her son…”

He turned to me and his expression had become incredulous. “You couldn’t have found a better time?”

Dehan answered before I could open my mouth. She said, “We got the memo.”

Garrido’s frown deepened. “What?”

“The memo from the mayor, that said all homicide investigations in New York should be adapted so as not to interfere with Dr. Garrido’s private life. You want me to tell you what we did with that memo? Or if you bend over, maybe I can demonstrate.”

Zack Fuks placed his hands to his cheeks and gasped. Garrido’s face flushed crimson. He opened his mouth to speak but Dehan shut it for him. “Tell it to somebody who gives a damn, Doc. Two children were murdered, we’re not going to pussyfoot around for your convenience. Live with it.”

I turned to Sonia. “Can we talk to you, Sonia? We’ll be as brief as we can.”

She turned to Garrido. “I’m very sorry, Dr. Garrido…”

He scowled at us, then nodded at Sonia. “Of course.”

She followed us outside onto Broadway and we crossed West 85th to the French Roast restaurant as the sun was dipping below the tops of the buildings. We went inside, found a table by the window and sat. A cute, blonde waitress joined us, smiling like she was really pleased to see us. She told us her name was Tracy and she would be our waitress today. We ordered three mineral waters and she told us we could scan the code on the table to get a menu on our cell phones.

When she’d gone away I studied Sonia’s face for a while.

“Sonia, there are some things I don’t really understand.”

“What,” she said and hesitated, “what sort of things?”

I leaned back in my chair and made a show of staring out at West 85th and drumming my fingers on the table. Then I held her eye and nodded. “Quite a lot of things. About the blackmail, the messages he sent you, his relationship with the Mitchells.” I laughed. “The whole thing just doesn’t seem to hang together.” I sat forward and leaned my elbows on the table. “But what I am really interested in right now is exactly what happened on the day of your sister and Earl’s murder.”

“Well, it was just like I told you.”

I shook my head. “No, Sonia, it wasn’t.”

Her skin took on a sickly hue. “I don’t know what you mean.”

I looked down at my hands and sighed, drummed a little more and said, “We know, Sonia…” I looked up. Her eyes were wide. Her face was rigid. I waited but she didn’t ask. “We know there was somebody else in the house at the time of the murder.”

Her eyes flicked over my features. She glanced at Dehan. She was like a trapped animal frozen by panic. Finally she said, “How…?”

I gave a small laugh and shook my head. “See? That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about. It seems to me that the question you would logically want to ask is, ‘Who?’ But you don’t ask that. You ask, ‘How?’”

She closed her eyes. “You’re trying to confuse me and make me say things…”

Dehan said, “What kind of things, Sonia?”

Her eyes snapped open and she pointed at me, echoing my own words. “See? This, this is what Leroy used to talk about. Always pin the blame on the black person.”

I asked, “Who’s pinning blame on you, Sonia?”

“You’re trying to trip me up and confuse me, and make me say things that you can use against me.”

I gave my head a single shake. “All I’m doing, Sonia, is telling you that we know there was somebody else in the house when Cherise and Earl were killed.” She swallowed. I went on. “Now you have taken that and run, and become very anxious, which makes me curious. And I would like to know what made you ask, ‘How?’ How what? How did we find out? Is that what you were asking?”

“No…maybe.” She closed her eyes again. “I was shocked. I didn’t expect…”

Dehan spoke softly. “I think you half expected it, Sonia. When you saw us come in.”

“No…”

I interrupted her. “Here’s another thing that I don’t understand, Sonia. That photograph, the one you showed me of