Deception (15 page)

“You were a friend of Simon’s, weren’t you? An intimate friend.”

“Who told you that?”

“That’s not important, Mrs. Mulligan. What is important is that your affair with Simon could put you and your husband in a rather compromising situation.”

Her complexion paled even more, but other than that, she gave no sign of discomfort. “You’re not a police detective or you would have already shown me your badge, so what exactly is your capacity in this matter, Mr. Santini? Are you an attorney? A private investigator?”

“Neither. I’m a former homicide detective for NYPD. I occasionally act as a consultant for various police departments throughout the country.”

“Are you acting as a consultant now?”

The woman was even sharper than he had realized. “No, I’m not.”

“Then I don’t have to talk to you, do I?”

“Is that what you choose to do?”

She was thoughtful for a moment, as if considering her answer. After a while, she folded her arms and rested them on her desk. “What exactly do you want to know?”

“Were you romantically involved with Simon Bennett?”

She looked at him for a good five seconds before answering. “Yes. He and I met at a charity function last year.”

“And your husband found out?”

“He didn’t find out. I told him. I couldn’t bear the deception anymore.”

“I see. How did he take it?”

Her smile was mildly condescending. “How would you take it, Mr. Santini?”

This time it was his turn not to return the smile. “I don’t know, Mrs. Mulligan. I’ve never had anyone cheat on me before.”

She didn’t even blink. “You wouldn’t like it. Any more than Pete did. He flew into a rage. He even went to confront Simon, which you already know or you wouldn’t be here.”

Some of her earlier tension was gone, as if admitting the affair had taken a great weight off her shoulders. “But if you think Pete killed him…” She shook her head. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

“There’s a witness who says your husband threatened to kill him.”

“And that’s all he did. Ask anyone in this city and they’ll tell you that one of my husband’s greatest pleasures is to push people around and frighten them. They’ll also tell you that he’s quick to back down when he meets his match. Simon was a formidable opponent, Mr. Santini, and Pete knew it. As for committing murder.” She shook her head again. “I’m sure he may have been tempted, but he wouldn’t do it. My husband doesn’t have the killer instinct. He’s all bark and no bite.”

Dan leaned back in his chair and watched her intently. “What about you, Mrs. Mulligan? Do you have the killer instinct?”

She regarded him calmly. “I might have, under certain circumstances, but I didn’t kill Simon, if that’s your question. I had no reason to.”

“Were the two of you still involved when he died?”

“No. The affair was over. I broke it off.”

“When was that?”

“In late September. The same day I told Pete.”

“Just to satisfy my curiosity, where were you on the night of December 1?”

She must have been prepared for the question because she answered it without the slightest hesitation. “My husband and I went to bed at the same time-shortly after ten.”

“Both of you stayed there until morning?”

“I certainly did, and I have no reason to believe Pete wasn’t there with me. I’m a very light sleeper, Mr. Santini. If my husband had slipped out of bed at any time during the night, I would have heard him.”

As Dan stood up to leave, Vivian Mulligan stood up with him. Her cool, businesslike demeanor softened. “I have taught here at Eastside Academy since I graduated from college sixteen years ago,” she said. “If it were to be known that I…” For the first time since Dan had entered her office, that remarkable poise he’d admired so much seemed to falter.

He experienced a quick feeling of compassion for her. It was obvious that, despite her involvement with Simon, Vivian Mulligan loved her husband. And she valued her job at Eastside Academy immensely.

“I hope it doesn’t come to that, Mrs. Mulligan,” he replied in answer to her half-spoken plea. “I wish I could be more reassuring, but right now that’s the best I can do.”

He could tell it wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear, but she accepted it, with a slight nod of her head. “I understand.”

Outside Eastside Academy, Dan looked at the row of black limousines that were already lining up along the curb, ready to pick up the school’s well-to-do students, then back at the elegant building he had just left. This was one of Manhattan’s most elite private schools, an establishment of such fame and prestige that enrollment began at birth and yearly tuition set parents back a whopping forty grand a year. Yet there was nothing within those tony walls that he would want for his children, not the education, not the social status and certainly not the morality.

Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was almost two-thirty. Enough time to get the Land Rover out of the parking garage and drive to Rockefeller Center to meet Jill.

Raising the collar of his leather jacket, Dan jammed his hands in his pockets and headed toward the parking sign at the end of the street.

The American Festival Cafe, on the lower level of Rockefeller Plaza was filled with its usual crowd of students, tourists and office workers when Jill arrived a little after three.

Outside on the ice rink, skaters with varying degrees of expertise, glided and whirled to the tune of “Silent Night.” Just behind the golden statue of Prometheus, a seventy-five-foot Norway spruce, the city’s most famous tannenbaum, rose gloriously above it all, thousands of bright Christmas lights strung through it.

The Festival Cafe looked equally festive, with a tree of its own at the restaurant’s entrance and small, red poinsettias dotting every table.

Jill stood just inside the door and scanned the crowded room. Spotting Dan at a window booth in the back, she indicated to the hostess where she was going and wove her way through the tables.

“Hi.” Dan stood up. “You look great.”

As always, the unexpected compliment seemed to take her by surprise, a reaction that never ceased to amaze him. “Thank you.” She turned to the hostess who was holding a menu. “Just coffee for me, please, black.”

Dan watched her shrug off her red wool coat. Underneath she wore a simple black pants suit with a whimsical pin in the shape of a grinning alligator on the lapel. With all the expensive jewelry her parents had given her over the years, she had always preferred the versatility of simpler, inexpensive pieces, little trinkets that caught her fancy and matched her mood of the moment.

“Everything okay with that job you had to look at?”

“Yes, thank God. For a minute, I thought we were going to lose another client, but we didn’t, so I suppose I can relax. Until next time.”

“Has it been that bad without Simon?”

“Worse than I could have imagined. I loved and admired my father very much, and to a certain extent I understand our clients’ reaction, but they make me so mad. Do they really believe that B&A is what it is today because of just one man? Don’t they read our brochures, keep up with our architects’ achievements? See the great buildings they have designed? The awards they’ve won?”

Dan was mildly surprised. This passion for her job, this pride in her own people, was a side of her he didn’t know. But he liked it very much. “I’m sure you set them straight.”

She fought a smile. “Well… in a gentle, diplomatic way.” When the waiter had brought her coffee, she picked up her cup but didn’t drink from it right away. “So, what’s the bad news?”

Dan stirred a teaspoonful of sugar into his coffee. Earlier he had debated whether or not to tell Jill about Simon’s affair. She had worshiped the man, and he hated to be the one to rock that faith. But what choice did he have? Their newly founded partnership, no matter how temporary, was based on one simple factor—total honesty. And if he wanted Jill to trust him, he would have to abide by the rules.

Her stare was almost painful. “Come on, Dan.”

“I found out your father was having an affair.”

Jill’s shoulders stiffened. “Who told you that?”

“Philip Van Horn.”

“Philip?”

He could read her like a book, see everything that was going through her head. She was shocked and outraged that one of the people she trusted the most was spreading such ugly rumors about her father. “Philip didn’t make it up,” he said, anxious to restore her faith in the attorney. “He didn’t even want to tell me. The only reason he did was because I didn’t give him much of a choice.”

Jill had turned livid. “Why are you siding with him? What did he do to make you believe such a lie?”

“He didn’t do anything. Philip was in your father’s office the night the woman’s husband barged in and accused him of sleeping with his wife. And your father didn’t deny it. The two men almost killed each other,

Jill. God knows what would have happened if Philip hadn’t been there.”

Her anger quickly fading, she raised stricken eyes at him. “It’s not true. My father would never do anything like that. He loved my mother.” Then, as he remained silent, she asked, “Who’s the woman?”

He hesitated for only a few seconds. “Vivian Mulligan.”

This time she stared at him, stone-still. “That’s ridiculous. My father hated Mulligan.”

“Apparently the feeling didn’t extend to his wife.” Her lips set in a tight line, Jill turned to look out the window. A young girl in red leggings and a Santa’s hat was doing double axels drawing cheers from the crowd. But Jill’s festive mood had vanished. She felt betrayed, which, of course, was a stupid, childish reaction. This wasn’t about her. It was about her father. And why was she so shocked, anyway? Hadn’t she already suspected that another woman was involved? Wasn’t that the reason she had gone to Washington?

“How long… were they together?”

“A few months. Apparently Vivian broke up with your father the day she told her husband about the affair.”

Jill pressed her fingers to her temples where a headache was beginning to throb. Her father had carried on an affair right here in New York City and no one knew? How could that be? When had he turned into such a skillful deceiver?

“Are you okay?”

Dan’s concerned voice brought her back. “No. If you want to know the truth, I feel pretty damn rotten right now.”

Dan’s hand closed on hers “Simon’s affair had nothing to do with you, Jill, or his love for you.”

She yanked her hand away. “You’re defending him! What a typical male reaction.”

“I’m not defending him.”

“How could he do something so awful?”

“Parents don’t always come in perfect, flawless packages. They’re human, too.”

Challenging blue eyes held his, the way they had so many times before. “Would your father have cheated on Angelina?”

“Would you have cheated on me?”

“Never.”

“Then how can you speak of adultery as if it was something men do because… they’re men.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. And I’m certainly not condoning what your father did. I just don’t want to see you destroyed by something that was beyond your control.”

He was right Sitting here and brooding wasn’t going to accomplish anything. Her father’s actions angered her but deep down, she knew they wouldn’t affect her love for him, or her determination to find his killer.

“I, too, have something to tell you.” She kept her eyes downcast. “Something I should have told you earlier, but didn’t.”

She half expected him to make some sort of sarcastic remark. Instead he folded his hands on the table and said quietly, “I’m listening.”

“A few days ago, I found out my father had taken a trip to Washington, D.C.” on October 3, a time when he should have been in Miami attending a very important business meeting.” Because her hands had suddenly grown cold, she wrapped them around her coffee cup to warm them. “No one seemed to know anything about that trip—not my mother, not Henry, who had taken my dad to the airport, and not even Cecilia. To make matters even more mysterious, Carl Jenner, the man whom Daddy should have met in Miami, said that my father called him the day before to say he wouldn’t be attending the meeting after all. An emergency had come up.

“I should have told you the other night when we agreed to be truthful with each other, but I couldn’t.” She lowered her head. “I was afraid there might be another woman involved and I was embarrassed.”

“It’s okay, Jill. I understand. Do you know what that emergency was?”

Jill shook her head. “No one seems to know that, either.” She forced herself to look up; to meet his gaze. “I went to Washington on Monday, hoping to get some answers, but I struck out.”

Dan’s gaze sharpened. “I thought you went to Richmond.”

“I did. I just made sure to get a return flight with a long enough layover in Washington to allow me time to make a few inquiries.”

“That could have been dangerous, Jill.”

“But it wasn’t. And I was able to talk to a skycap by the name of Tyrone. He remembers my father taking a cab for destination unknown, but can’t remember the name of the cab company. He’s agreed to keep an eye out for the driver.”

The worried crease between Dan’s brows was slowly disappearing. “Did you talk to anyone else?”

“Three cab companies. No luck there, either, but they said they’d call if they located the driver.” She took a sip of her cold coffee. “The mystery may be solved, anyway,” she said bitterly. “The destination was probably some romantic hideaway, and the woman he met there was Vivian Mulligan.”

“I don’t think so. According to Vivian, the affair was over by then.”

“Have you talked to her?” Jill asked, surprised.

“Yes. I just came from meeting with her.”

“She could have lied.”

“Why would she? What difference would it make to her when they broke up?”

Jill lifted a stubborn chin. “It would direct the suspicion to her, that’s the difference it would make.”

Dan felt the new anger and understood it. Having learned the identity of her father’s mistress, she was now focusing all her rage on that one person. It was a normal reaction, one that would eventually run its course.