Delusion in Death

makes. But Devon stood as his brother’s best man, is godfather to one son. Interesting bit. Before Roarke bought the property, Devon was looking to secure a loan to buy it himself.”

“I can’t have it, I’ll kill everybody in it, in a really spectacular way. Then maybe I can get it cheap?” Peabody pursed her lips. “It could play.”

“Let’s go try it out. Look busy,” Eve added, “a little harried.”

“I already do.”

“Play it soft, sympathetic.”

Peabody sighed. “What else is new?”

Eve breezed into Interview where Devon sat at the table, hands clasped together. A long-sleeved black tee fit snug over his chest.

“Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Peabody, Detective Delia, entering Interview with Lester, Devon, on the matter of Case Number H-3597-D. Mr. Lester, thanks for coming in.”

“I’m glad to do it, to do anything I can.”

“We’re recording this follow-up. As you can imagine, we’re taking statements and follow-ups from a lot of people.” She sat, rubbed the back of her neck as if it troubled her. “When we have people in like this, we routinely read them their rights. It’s for your protection, and it keeps everything clean.”

He paled a little under the explosion of red dreads, but nodded. “Sure. Okay.”

She read off the Revised Miranda. “So, do you understand your rights and obligations?”

“Yeah, sure. I keep thinking about my guys. D.B. and Evie, and all of them. Drew’s still in a coma. Is there any more you can tell me? Anything?”

“We’re shifting through a lot of evidence, Mr. Lester.”

“Devon, okay? I know you’re doing everything you can, but all those people … We went to see the rest of the crew, Quirk and me. He’s been a rock, but it was the worst thing I’ve ever done, and I couldn’t tell them why or how. I couldn’t really tell them anything.”

“It’s hard,” Peabody said gently, “to lose someone, then to be the one responsible for telling others they’ve lost someone, too.”

“I didn’t know how hard. Every time we told one of the guys, it was like it happened all over again.”

“Let’s try to sort it out,” Eve began. “You know the setup better than anyone.”

“Yeah, well, D.B. had it down. Really the whole crew.”

“Still, you’re the manager.”

“I don’t know how I can go back there. I don’t know how anyone can. I don’t know what Roarke’s going to do with the place now.” He closed his eyes. “I don’t know what anybody’s going to do.”

“Why don’t you take me through the routine? Who opens, who closes, who has access to what.”

“Okay.” He took a long breath. “Either D.B. or me are there. Either of us could open or close, or both depending.”

“No one else?”

“We were the only ones with the codes. Well, I mean Roarke would have them, and Bidot. But on the day- to-day, just me and D.B. One of us would be the first one in, last one out. You check the drawer. We don’t do much cash business, but you gotta keep some. You check the night’s receipts. The office isn’t locked, but nobody goes in but me or D.B. And the comp and drawer are locked, and passcoded. That’s SOP. You gotta check supplies,” he continued, moving through the opening procedure, then through the closing.

“Could D.B. have lent his codes to anyone?”

“No way. No way he’d do that.”

“And you?”

“Lieutenant. Ma’am. A manager’s got to be responsible. Trustworthy. You can’t play fast and loose and keep your job. I trust my crew, but nobody but me and D.B. could open or close, or access the receipts.”

“You didn’t share that information, not with your partner, your brother?”

“No. What would they want it for?” He leaned forward. “You think somebody got in, planted whatever it was? I don’t know how. It would’ve showed on security. It would’ve triggered the alarm.”

“Not if they had the codes. Easy to get by the alarm, then change the security disc out. You’re sure, Devon. No doubt?”

“No doubt.” He sat back again, chopping a hand through the air. “But hey, they could’ve jammed it, or cloned the codes, something. You see that stuff on screen. It could be that way. They could’ve put it on a timer or something, like a boomer. I think they did it to take a hit at Roarke.”

“Do you?”

“I’ve been thinking. Can’t think about anything else. It doesn’t make sense to kill all those people, people you couldn’t even know. Everybody knows Roarke, right? It’s his place. This happened in his place, and maybe he’s not going to open it up again. He takes the loss. And he feels it, too, because it was his place. Some people are just sick. Some people are just sick enough to kill all those people just to take a hit at Roarke.”

“Something to think about. Still, he hasn’t owned it long, and it’s one of his smaller businesses. You were thinking about buying it, weren’t you, Devon?”

He flushed a little, shifted a little. “I took a look. Out of my reach, what with the capital, and the taxes and all that. I thought how it would be something to have my own place. Now, I guess I’m glad I didn’t try it. Something like this? I don’t know how you come back from it.”

“It’s rough. Thinking about that, maybe somebody who wanted their own place, found it out of reach, might find a way to bring the price down to a bargain. It wouldn’t be hard for somebody who knew the place, how it works, how it’s set up. Somebody with access to everything, anytime. And somebody, say, whose brother’s a chemist. Like yours, Devon.”

8

He stared at her with his shadowed, bloodshot eyes. Said nothing at all.

“Your brother’s a big-shot chemist, right, Devon? Dr. Christopher Lester, with a bunch of letters after his name. A really smart guy,” she added, opening a file, nodding as she scanned it. “A scientist.”

“What?”

“Is your brother a chemist who specializes in the development and testing of medicines and drugs?”

“He—yeah. What’s that got to do with any of this?”

“Put it together. You couldn’t afford the place, so you have to work for somebody else. Somebody with more money, more connections. Somebody, like you said yourself, everybody knows. That’s a pisser, I bet.”

“No—it’s—”

“Your brother’s got access to all kinds of drugs, chemicals, and the knowledge to put them together.” Eyes on Devon, she slapped the file closed. “A substance is released in the bar you run, Devon, and when it’s your day off. Boy, that’s handy. People die, it’s a massacre. And a scandal. Property value plummets. Like you said, maybe Roarke’s not going to open again. Maybe he’ll sell it. Maybe, again like you said yourself, somebody did this to take a hit at Roarke, and to bring the cost of the property down.”

“You—you think I did this? To my own people? My own place?”

“Roarke’s place.”

Fury rose up until his face matched his dreads. “He owns it; I run it.” Devon slammed a fist on his chest. “I run it! I know every single one of the people who work there, and all the regulars, too. I know a lot of the people who died yesterday. They mattered to me. I come in here to try to help, because I want to find out what happened, who did this. And you accuse me?”

“No one’s accusing you, Devon. It’s a scenario.”

“It’s bullshit. You’re saying I could’ve made this happen. And worse, God, you’re trying to pull my brother into it? Chris is a hero. You get that? A hero. He works to save lives, to make lives better, to help people. You’ve got no right to say anything bad about my brother.”

“We have to ask questions.” Peabody put on the calm as Devon’s outrage spun through the room, sharp as whirling blades. “We have to consider different possibilities before we can eliminate them and move on in the