The Third Sin (14 page)

When the door reopened, Bella had been transformed. She now wore a black, form-fitting turtleneck sweater and a knee-length skirt. Sabrina had given her a soft, natural look that played up her dark, Latin beauty. After Perry had rigged up her mic, Sonya asked her to sit in the chair where she would do the interview and stepped back to check the monitor. Bella was as photogenic as she was beautiful.

Sonya knew that Bella was one of those women whose beauty carried them nearly effortlessly through life. Friends, money, and anything else Bella wanted would come easily—all she had to do was smile. It was easy to believe that Wade had needed lots of money to give Bella the kind of life she felt she deserved.

As if she knew what Sonya was thinking, Bella looked serious and said, “I'm not the party girl everyone thinks I am. Wade was the playboy. I just went along with him. Modeling would be more fulfilling and more fun. And maybe I could become an actor.”

Perry signaled that the tape was rolling, so Sonya began. “First, let me say how sorry I am about your loss, and also let me thank you for doing this interview.”

“It's been the worst day of my life,” Bella began. “All I can think of is how I came home last night and found my dear, dear Wade dead. He meant everything to me.”

Sonya asked gently, “How long were you married?”

Bella's voice was husky. “Almost three years. The happiest time of my life. We met in Rio and had a simple wedding. All I wanted was to come to New York and be with Wade.”

“You like living in New York?”

Bella didn't respond for a moment, perhaps choosing her phrasing. “Yes, I had a wonderful social life here with Wade, but that's not all. There's energy in New York that I didn't find in São Paulo. It's not all about the parties—it's from the active people who do things with their lives.”

Sonya nodded. “That's the way I feel about New Yorkers, too. Tell me, Bella, when did you last see the Braganza?”

Bella frowned and shifted uneasily in her seat. “Honestly, I can't remember. I know Wade showed it to me a month or so ago, one night when his friend Giorgio was here. Giorgio wanted to see it as they were discussing how to sell it. I think that's the last time I saw the diamond.”

“Where is the jewel now?”

“I assume it's in the safe where it is usually kept. I've been so upset over Wade that I haven't thought to check on it.” Bella's voice broke. “My husband was charming and generous and I adored him from the first moment I saw him. He was my world.”

“Have you any idea who would murder him?”

“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “Of course not. When I went to say good-bye before I went to the party, he was in the living room with Cacao as usual. He was fine. He said I looked pretty and told me to enjoy myself.”

Sonya allowed her a moment to relax, then asked, “Do you believe it was murder?”

“Yes, yes. Why would Wade commit suicide? We were so happy! We were about to sell the diamond and were planning to take a trip as soon as the sale was done.”

“Tell me what happened last night when you got home. How did you find him?”

Bella hesitated. “I can't say much about that. I told the police the whole thing and my lawyer advised me not to say anything to the press for fear of compromising the investigation.” The way Bella said the words, Sonya knew she was reciting exactly what her attorney had said to her. “My brother Rico said the same. I'm sorry, but I know you understand.”

“Tell me as much as you can.”

Again Bella hesitated, and then peered into the darkened room as if she was looking for help from someone, perhaps Kirsten, but the intern had not returned to the room for the interview. Sonya said nothing; experience had taught her that silence usually got her some kind of answer.

Bella licked her lips and said, “It started with the bird. Usually when I get home, I get some kind of greeting from Cacao—a beautiful macaw. I'm the only one in the family Cacao greets like that, you know. But there was nothing, so I checked on him and saw that he was dead. I ran to Wade's bedside, to tell him about Cacao, but Wade was dead, too. Then I woke everyone, and Harold came down and the police came.”

“Anything else you remember?” pressed Sonya.

“No, nothing, Sonya. But if it were suicide, why would he kill his bird?”

Sonya didn't respond—this was an interview, not a conversation. “Going back to your getting home—what time was it, and where were you coming from?”

“I don't remember the time. I didn't look at the clock, but it was after midnight. Probably about two.”

“Coming from?” Sonya asked again.

Bella's answer was very soft, as if she hoped not to be heard, “A party. A charity party.”

“Really?” continued Sonya. “Did you go to the party alone?”

“It was the annual ball to raise money to help children with speaking difficulties. Wade's supported it for years. As a child, he was a stutterer and he wanted to help children with the same problem. But last night he couldn't go, because his uncle was flying in from Brazil and he wanted to be here to meet him. He insisted that I go with our friends.”

“You went with a friend.”

“Yes, a friend.… No, I meant friends.”

“Who?”

“I can't say.”

“Why?”

“I can't say. Ask my lawyer.”

“Did you have anything to drink?”

“There was champagne, but I didn't have much. I wasn't feeling well.…” Bella looked directly at Sonya with tears glittering in her eyes. Sonya wondered if they were real. “You have no idea how badly Wade's family are treating me. This morning I found Jorge Dias photographing the silver. He said I had no right to it, that it had belonged to Esperanza, Wade's mother, and that now that Wade was dead, it had to go back to the Dias family.

“And my brother Rico, who has always taken care of me, promised to come, but he's not here.” Sonya could see real emotion in Bella's eyes now and was not surprised when the woman said vehemently, “Wade is dead and I can't help that, and the diamond is mine, and I'll be damned if they ever get a cent from it.”

Even as Bella spoke, the expression on her face told Sonya that she realized she had gone too far, spoken too openly. She tried to rise from the chair but only succeeded in tangling herself in her mic wires. “No more, please,” Bella said with a tinge of hysteria in her voice.

Sonya signaled Perry to stop the tape and helped Bella with the microphone. Kirsten had just stepped back into the room, probably attracted by Bella's raised voice, and Bella ran to the younger woman, who comforted her with a long hug.

“You were awesome, Bella,” Kirsten said, but Bella only laughed despairingly and ran out of the room even as Sonya drew near to thank her for the interview.

Stalled in the middle of the room, Sonya suddenly realized that Giorgio Sacco was standing next to Kirsten.

“Quite a performance from Bella,” he offered. “You know, you ought to interview Kirsten. She's the smartest one in this family, and you'd be surprised how much she knows.”

“Thanks for the advice, Mr. Sacco,” Sonya replied. “I'll think about that.”

 

Chapter
18

F
RIDAY, 7:30 P.M.

JFK arrival area

Jorge Dias stood among the crowd coming into the carousel area to collect their luggage. His regular car service driver was beside him with a large sign saying D
IAS.
But Elenora was nearsighted and he wanted to make sure she arrived safely and was calm.

When Elenora told him she had used family influence to get on the next plane to New York, Jorge felt a rush of concern. He did not want his wife involved in the aftermath of Wade's death. But, as always with Elenora, once she had made up her mind, she was as immovable as a concrete wall. He consoled himself with the thought that she was closer to the Bruckheimers than he was, and it might be useful to have her with him to keep an eye on the family.

Luckily she had gone through customs in Miami when she'd changed planes, but she would be tired from the long day of travel—and very hungry. Elenora mistrusted airline food and refused to eat it even though she flew first-class. Though she would be anxious to hear the news, Jorge planned to insist that she have something to eat and then go to bed. When she was rested, there would be time enough to bring her up to date.

Standing in the airport reminded him of his own arrival, the night before. He'd called Wade from the terminal and his nephew had answered with a cheerful “Hello,” laughing when the macaw repeated it. But as soon as he recognized Jorge's voice, Wade's mood changed noticeably.

“Oh, yes. Welcome,” he said in a hard tone.

“Nephew,” Jorge said, ignoring his coldness. “As always, I'm happy to hear your voice. I've come especially to see you and I hope we can meet tonight as we arranged. I'm at the airport and will be coming directly to the apartment.”

A loud, impatient sigh was Wade's response.

“I've brought your sleeping pills,” Jorge added, knowing Wade would be pleased.

Wade brightened. “Thank you. You know how difficult it is for me to sleep with my apnea. I'll be waiting for you.”

When Jorge reached the Diases' Fifth Avenue apartment, he was pleased to find it in perfect condition. The nanny who had carried Wade the day of Esperanza's death was still in the family's employ and made weekly visits to keep it ready for unexpected arrivals.

Jorge tossed his bag on the bed, then opened it to remove the box containing the sleeping pills. Traveling by private plane, he had never experienced any problems with customs, though he had a letter from his doctor saying he carried large quantities in case he was delayed on the trip.

As he opened the door to Wade's apartment, he heard Cacao's annoying squawk, “Go way, go way, go way.”

Without bothering to greet his uncle, Wade admonished the bird, “Now be quiet, Cacao. It's Uncle Jorge. You know he doesn't like you.” As if it agreed, the macaw stopped calling and hid its head beneath the top of one wing. “Poor Cacao. You don't like Uncle Jorge either … do you, sweetie?” Wade asked, rubbing his finger along the bird's head. “I'll put you on your perch.”

It was a bad beginning. Jorge felt a twinge of chest pain. “Do you mind, Wade, if I sit?”

With a sweeping gesture, Wade indicated the chair opposite his own.

“Thank you, nephew,” Jorge said brightly, trying to relieve the tension. “Is your wife here?”

“No. Bella is out at a charity event tonight. I preferred not to go.”

“Won't that seem odd, nephew, to have her out partying with others? Is that usual among New York society these days?” Even as he spoke, Jorge regretted not curbing his tongue—Wade couldn't possibly miss the dislike in his voice.

“I don't care, and I pay no attention to gossip.” Wade sat down so that the two men faced each other. “Now, Uncle Jorge, let's cut through the shit so we can both get some rest. I'm glad you came, so I have the opportunity to tell you face-to-face that I'm going to sell the Braganza. It goes to the auction house tomorrow.

“So thank you for coming, and I'm delighted to see you and listen to all that blah and blah. But you should know, I've made up my mind.”

Jorge was stunned. “I'm your uncle. Please don't be rude to me, Wade.”

“I'm sorry, Uncle, I really am, but I want to be clear with you. Everyone has been after me about the diamond and now you, too. I just can't take it.”

Jorge saw Wade's momentary weakness as an opening. “Yes, nephew, I understand that you are under pressure and need money. Our family wants to help you, as we have so often in the past.”

“Why do you bring up the past? I have never asked for more than I deserved. The money I received was the rightful share of my mother, Esperanza. I was entitled to it.”

“Of course. I just want you to know that we are always behind you. Owning the Braganza is a matter of pride for our family. Everything can be arranged behind the scenes.”

“You can bid on it at the auction if you're so hot to have it.”

“No, Wade. It will be so much better if this transaction remains a private matter. You and I can agree on a fair price, you will have your money, and the diamond will go to the national museum in Brazil as a gift from the Dias family.”

Wade sat up. “What do you mean, a ‘fair price'?”

“Fair, is what I mean. Whatever's fair. We are businesspeople. But, of course, we're dealing with friends here, so we will expect to pay what's fair among family.”

Wade's eyes narrowed. “Uncle, we should stop talking.”

In retrospect, this should have told Jorge to back down, but last night, he had been determined to continue, to make his nephew truly understand. “Wade, you know this is a matter of family honor, but we have always been flexible. I forgave you for selling our grandmother's house at the beach, remember? When that house was left to you, it was meant to be kept in the family. But you sold it without telling me, and I tried to understand why.”

“Understand?” Wade cut in, his voice rising. “You've never let me hear the end of it. And now you are bringing it up again. I had to sell that house to keep up with my expenses. If it were up to you, I'd be out on the street.”

“How can you say that? When did I ever deny you anything? You are repeating lies from the mouth of that greedy woman you married.” Jorge knew he had gone too far, but could not stop himself. “Your mother, Esperanza Dias, would be disgraced to have such a daughter-in-law. A wife who goes ‘partying' with other men.”

Wade struggled to his feet and loomed over his uncle. “That's enough,” he shouted. “You dare call Bella greedy when you've come here to bargain over your oh-so-precious diamond?