1 Assault with a Deadly Glue Gun (16 page)

Erica beamed. "Thank you, sir.

"Vittorio."

"Vittorio." Her cheeks grew crimson, but her body relaxed. She
had successfully handled her first assignment.

I had kept quiet up to that point. Now I jumped in. "Vittorio,
are you aware that Marlys Vandenburg was murdered several
hours after you threatened her on Monday?"

He turned his attention to me, as if seeing me for the first time.
"And you are?"

"Anastasia Pollack."

"Why are you here, Anastasia Pollack?"

"I came with Erica."

"To do what? Accuse me of murder?" He waved his hand dismissively. "You, I don't like. You may not call me Vittorio." He snapped
his fingers. "Show her out."

VITTORIO's GOON SQUAD APPROACHED like a chartreuse and avocado tidal wave. So much for my interrogation skills. Maybe I
should have watched some old episodes of Murder She Wrote before tackling this amateur sleuthing stuff.

I rewound the tape in my brain and began again. "I'm sorry. I
didn't mean to accuse you of anything. I wasn't sure you had heard
about Marlys. That's all."

Vittorio held his hand up to stop the advance of the phalanx.
"Why would I stoop to murder when the revenge of bringing Marlys
to her knees would be so much more satisfying? And profitable."

I blinked. "Profitable?"

Vittorio stroked his leather sleeve as though he were making love
to his arm. "As I told the police yesterday, my dear Anastasia Pollack,
I had already contacted my attorneys about instituting libel lawsuits
against both Marlys and Trimedia. Twenty-five million dollars will
go a long way toward pacifying my hurt feelings and salvaging my
tarnished reputation, don't you agree?"

"You're suing Trimedia?" Erica's jaw dropped. Her face paled
under her Bobbi Brown make-up.

"Of course, I've dropped the suit against Marlys," he said. "After
a bit of investigating, my legal team discovered she left virtually no
estate. And since you can't get money from a corpse..." His lips
curled into a catbird smile. "Why pay the lawyers?"

"Does Trimedia know about this lawsuit?" I asked.

Vittorio glanced at his diamond encrusted platinum Rolex.
"They do now."

I suppose that ruled Vittorio out as my prime suspect. There
was no profit in murder-at least not Marlys's murder. Why dirty
his hands committing a crime when he could both destroy
Marlys's career and score millions through the legal system? Vittorio Versailles might be a god-awful designer, but he was a financially savvy, god-awful designer.

And as it also turned out, a financially savvy, god-awful designer with an iron-clad alibi for Monday night. While Marlys was
getting glued to death in my cubicle, Vittorio was being feted in
midtown Manhattan at a dinner sponsored by the Italian-American Fashion Collective. Several hundred witnesses could attest to
his whereabouts at the time of the murder.

As apparently Batswin and Robbins already knew. Maybe the
Dynamic Duo wasn't as incompetent as they led me to believe. I
wondered what other suspects they had already ruled out. What
clues had they uncovered?

"You really thought Vittorio killed Marlys, didn't you?" asked Erica
on the train ride back to the office.

"I was hoping. He certainly had a good motive after the way
Marlys skewered him in our latest issue."

"And we all heard him threaten her."

"Too good to be true. Nothing is ever that easy. I suppose anyone devious enough to kill Marlys would be smart enough not to
make his identity so obvious."

"Too bad he's got an alibi." She shifted position to face me.
Worry clouded her face. Her lower lip trembled. "Those detectives
scare me, Anastasia. They think I had something to do with it."

I patted her clenched fists. "They suspect both of us. Which is
why I need to find out who really killed Marlys. I can't sit back and
leave my fate in the hands of Batswin and Robbins."

"Neither can I. What would Dicky think if I were arrested?"

"If we're arrested for murder, Dicky will be the least of your
worries."

"True"

"However, even if Batswin and Robbins find the real killer tomorrow, we now have another problem."

"What?"

"Vittorio's lawsuit"

"How does that affect us?"

"If Vittorio is successful, he'll bankrupt Trimedia. No Trimedia,
no American Woman."

"We'd lose our jobs!"

"Exactly. And I can't afford to lose mine."

"Just when everything was starting to go right in my life. I've
worked so hard. He can't do this to me!"

"Not much you or I or anyone else can do about it. The lawyers
will fight it out. The shark with the most ferocious bite will win."

Erica pounded her fist on the seat. "I feel so helpless. All these
people controlling my fate. There's got to be something we can do."

"First, we need to clear ourselves of any involvement in
Marlys's murder. If we're locked up as killers, our jobs won't matter." I mulled over our options. Next on my list of suspects was
Marlys's Monday night date.

In her new position as fashion editor, Erica had entree to fashion's newest rising star. And if Emil Pachette were anything like his
many counterparts on Seventh Avenue, he'd grovel and drool for
exposure. American Woman might be a second-rate supermarket
monthly, but it was a second-rate supermarket monthly read by
millions of women.

Erica sat silently for a moment, as if debating with herself. Finally, she asked, "Is there something I can ... uhm ... do to ... you
know ... help?"

"Absolutely. When we arrive back at the office, you need to set
up an interview with Emil Pachette. The sooner the better. I'll
come along as your assistant."

"But don't you think the police have already questioned him?"

"Probably. But if he is the killer, he would have been expecting
the police and prepared for their questioning. Maybe we can catch
him off guard."

Erica rifled around in her purse and pulled out an iPhone. She
waved it in the air like a kid who had just found the surprise in a
box of Cracker Jacks. "Why wait until we get back to the office? I'll
phone him now."

"You have Emil Pachette's phone number programmed into
your iPhone?"

She smiled a guilty smile and patted the phone. "A gift from
Dicky. I have Marlys's entire Rolodex and half her computer files
programmed into this baby. Made playing slave a lot easier when
information was this handy. Especially when she'd call me in the
evenings or on weekends."

Poor Erica. Yet another indication of her jellyfish backbone.
Marlys demanded she jump, and Erica hoisted herself onto a
trampoline, no matter the day or hour.

Instead of commenting, though, I simply said, "Smart woman."

Her face broke out in a self-satisfied grin. "And finally getting
the credit for it. Dicky was right."

"About what?"

"He said all I needed was the chance to prove myself. It really
made him mad that I was doing all of Marlys's work, and she was
taking all the credit."

"We all felt that way."

"Did you?"

"You didn't realize that?"

Erica shook her head as she tapped her finger against the
screen, then raised the cell to her cheek. "I guess I was too wrapped
up in being angry and feeling sorry for myself to notice."

After a moment, she spoke into the phone. "Hi, Gina. This is
Erica. Is Emil available ... Oh? ... I see" Her brow furrowed. "When
do you expect him back? ... Really? ... Yes, please leave him a message. I'd like to set up an interview ... Thank you."

Erica disconnected the call. "You're not going to believe this.
Emil Pachette didn't shown up for work today. Or yesterday. No
one's seen or heard from him since before lunch on Monday."

"ANGELA LANSBURY MADE IT look so easy on television," I told
Cloris upon returning to the office. After a quick search, I had
found her camped out in the test kitchen. "It took Jessica Fletcher
all of an hour to catch the killer each Sunday night."

"Less if you factor in the commercials," she said around a
mouthful of mango macadamia muffin. "Like everything else, reality takes a bit longer."

"And reality just got a lot more complicated."

"What do you mean?"

I told her about Vittorio's lawsuit, as well as Emil's disappearance.

"Shit. I can't afford to lose my job. I've still got a kid in college."

"And I can?" Leaning against the counter, I pulled apart a still
warm muffin and popped a piece into my mouth. Once again I
had missed lunch, having gone straight into the city with Erica
after the photo shoot. Besides, stress made me crave sweets.

"Hmm" I closed my eyes, hoping the combination of sweet
and tangy flavors would expunge the thought of impending unemployment. "You're a spawn of the devil, tempting me like this."

"Thanks. I think. I'm experimenting for an article on exotic
combinations. If we have a magazine left to run such an article."
She reached for another platter. "Here. Tell me what you think of
these."

"What are they?"