The Third Sin (28 page)

“We'll talk about that when I see you, Kirsten.”

“I know you won't be able say much in front of the others, so if they get here early, will you hang around after they leave? I have to know what you've found out.” Sony heard renewed anxiety in Kirsten's voice.

The van stopped and Perry announced, “We're here.”

Sonya told Kirsten, “I'm right downstairs. I'll see you in a couple of minutes.” She hung up, then turned to Perry and said, “Thank you.”

“Parking around here isn't going to be easy,” Perry said, “but I'll be up as soon as I can.”

Sonya jumped out of the van and raced through the lobby to the elevators. When she got out on the seventh floor, she paused to look into the waiting room. Was there a hit man among the visitors?

She shook her head. She was acting crazy. How could she possibly tell?

Kirsten's room was opposite the nurses' station. A hospital security guard stood outside the door. Sonya wished he was a cop.

Entering the room, she found Kirsten alone, sitting up in bed with her arm in a sling. She was pale and drawn but looked better than she had the last time Sonya had visited. She welcomed Sonya with a smile.

“Oh, I'm so glad you're here. I feel so guilty about accusing Mom of murdering Wade. It must have been the concussion or maybe the painkillers.”

“Or a combination of both,” Sonya said as she sat down and took Kirsten's free hand. “Rest assured, your mother did not kill Wade.”

Relief flooded Kirsten's face. “I knew it. I was just being spiteful. I get angry about the way she and Harold treat me.”

Sonya nodded. “Well, you were right about her feelings toward Wade. Blair really disliked him, but that doesn't mean she would kill him. She hoped to get her hands on some part of money from the sale of the diamond, but that's true of almost everyone in the family.

“And why would she try to kill you? She's your mother and she loves you.”

“Yes, I know,” Kirsten said.

“We'll just keep your accusation to ourselves. When I interview you, I won't bring it up.”

“You want to interview me? Really?” Kirsten's eyes had gone wide in surprise.

“Yes,” Sonya said.

“What should I wear?”

The two women looked at each other and burst out laughing.

The door swung open behind Sonya and she turned to see Harold standing in the doorway, holding an enormous bunch of long-stemmed red roses. Irina stood beside him, holding a plastic bag emblazoned with the logo of the hospital gift shop. Sonya expected that contained the promised fashion magazines.

“Where shall we put these?” Harold asked, stepping into the room.

“Here, there, and everywhere, and don't bother with vases,” Irina gushed. She set the plastic bag on Kirsten's bedside table, then turned to Harold and took the roses from him. She scattered the blooms everywhere—on Kirsten's bed, the nightstand, the tray table, even the second, empty bed in the room. Finished, she threw up her arms, and with a sweeping gesture cried, “Voilà!”

Sonya and Kirsten were speechless. After a long moment, Kirsten stuttered her thanks. Sonya felt like coughing—the roses' scent was almost overpowering.

Irina leaned over and kissed Kirsten on the forehead. “I wanted you to know how much we love you.”

“This is awesome,” Kirsten said.

Sonya caught sight of Perry at the door and waved him in. “This is quite an impressive sight.”

Perry grinned at Kirsten. “I've got to say you look great in a hospital gown.”

Speaking had made Irina suddenly aware of them. “You are intruding on our privacy,” the woman said imperiously. “You should go. We have family matters to discuss.”

“No,” Kirsten objected. “They're staying. I was shot, but the guy was after Sonya. She has a right to know everything.”

Sonya shook her head. “You're wrong, Kirsten,” she said calmly. “The hit man wanted to kill you, not me.”

“Me? That's crazy.” The young woman looked shocked. “Who would want to kill me?”

“I'm not sure,” Sonya said. “But Perry had an interesting encounter with a guy who asked him a lot of questions about me—but also about you.”

“He wanted to know all about your workday, your schedule, things like that,” Perry put in.

“This is all nonsense,” Harold said flatly. “The killer mistook her for you, Miss Iverson. It's obvious—you look exactly alike.”

Sonya snorted. “Look again and you'll find that we don't. Kirsten is five inches taller than me and she was wearing high wedges. Sure, she had borrowed my checkered coat—but most of the photos of me on the Internet show me in a black-and-white-checked coat, not the brightly colorful one Kirsten had borrowed that night. There was nothing about the coat that identified the wearer as Sonya Iverson.

“A hired assassin has to have an excellent eye. He has to hit the right target, even in a dark parking garage. He would know the difference between me and Kirsten.”

“But Sonya, why would anyone try to kill me?” Kirsten asked again.

“That's what I keep asking myself. Who would benefit from your death? What did shooting you have to do with the sale of the Braganza?”

Irina broke in. “Don't be stupid,” she almost hissed. “What happened to Kirsten had nothing to do with the Braganza.”

Sonya had stepped away from Kirsten's bedside when Irina and Harold had arrived; now she moved closer to Kirsten. “No, Mrs. Bruckheimer, it had everything to do with the diamond.” A glance at Harold's twisted face told her she was right.

“Harold, you are Wade's executor,” Irina said, turning to her son. “What does Kirsten have to do with the diamond?”

Harold was silent.

“Well?” Irina demanded.

Harold looked down and said in a choking voice, “Mother, Wade left the Braganza to Kirsten.”

“What? What are you saying? The Braganza belongs to this child?” Irina grabbed Harold's arm. “You are the executor, Harold. You control the diamond.”

“No, Mother,” he said, pulling away from her. “I am not the executor of Wade's will.”

“But you told me…”

“No, I didn't. I said, ‘when I was executor.' I was trying to work it out.”

Irina grabbed his arm again and swung him around to face her. “Who is the executor?” she demanded. “Who?”

“It's the person Wade trusted most,” Sonya said slowly as the realization came to her. “It's Giorgio … Kirsten's father.”

Harold nodded, staring at the floor. “She's right. The attorney told me that six months ago, Wade found out that Bella had a lover. He changed his will at that time. He made Giorgio Sacco the executor and left Kirsten the Braganza.”

Irina screamed, “The Braganza is mine, mine, not Kirsten's!” She lunged at the woman in the hospital bed, grabbing at her injured arm. “You can't have it,” she shrieked as she picked up half a dozen roses and whipped them across Kirsten's face. Kirsten jerked away from her and slid out of the bed, landing hard on the floor.

Harold pulled his mother back. She spun in his grasp and punched him in the face. He howled in pain and threw her onto the spare bed, then leaned over her and slapped her across the face. Irina writhed under him.

Perry and Sonya rushed to Kirsten and lifted her onto her bed; Sonya supported the younger woman's injured arm and shoulder. A nurse ran in, followed by the security guard.

“Mother,” Harold shouted as he held her down on the second bed, “stop!”

Her face knotted with fury, Irina cried, “We murdered Wade for the Braganza but it was all for nothing, nothing!”

Harold smacked her again. “Shut up! Stop screaming.” He yelled, “I've had enough of you and your demands about the Braganza. I decided to kill Kirsten because with her dead I would have inherited the diamond. Then I would have sold it, and finally I would have enough money to be free of you.”

The nurse had taken charge of Kirsten. The security guard was moving toward Harold. Sonya saw the nurse hit the panic button and asked, quickly, “How did you find the hit man?”

“My grandfather got him for me.” He gave a harsh laugh. Irina looked stunned. “That's right, Mother, I asked your father for help. And he gave it to me, no questions asked.”

More medical personnel and another security guard raced into the room. The security officer said, “I called the police. They're on the way.”

One of the nurses said, “Everyone out, immediately. We have to take care of the patient.” She hit another button on the bed's control panel and asked that a doctor be paged. A moment later, the announcement echoed in the hall.

Sonya saw blood seeping through the bandages on Kirsten's shoulder. Kirsten was terrified, panting, her eyes wild. Perry was trailing after the security team, who were hustling Harold and Irina out of the room, but Sonya reached for her intern's hand and squeezed it hard.

“Calm down,” she said. “It's going to be all right.”

Kirsten looked at Sonya. “The Braganza is evil. It has caused so much death and destruction. If it is really mine, I'm sending it back to Brazil where it belongs. I'll sell it to Uncle Jorge and give some of the money to Mom to open her restaurant.”

“That's great, just what you should do,” Sonya said, reassuringly.

The doctor entered the room.

“Time to go,” the nurse said, more kindly than before.

“All right,” Sonya said, releasing Kirsten's hand. “Kirsten, I'll call your mother and tell her to come right away.”

“Thank you,” Kirsten said. As Sonya opened the door, Kirsten said, “Don't forget to come back tomorrow to do my interview.”

Sonya shook her head in disbelief. Kirsten's stepfather had tried to kill her, had killed Wade, and Kirsten was thinking about going on television. Sonya could not understand her.

 

Chapter
35

S
UNDAY, 9:30 P.M.

Sonya's apartment

She had gone from the hospital directly to her office. Her first call was to Keith. He'd already heard about the incident at the hospital and wasn't surprised to learn that she would be working late, writing the story.

Then she'd called Donna to fill her in, ending with, “I have a good angle on the story now. I'm approaching it from the point of view of how each member of the family had been motivated by greed. Kirsten is a major part of the story.”

“Blair will like that,” Donna had said, relief evident in her voice.

“I've gotten permission to interview Kirsten at the hospital tomorrow and Perry and I got some good shots of Irina and Harold being taken out of the hospital by the police.”

“Wonderful,” Donna answered. “I'll take a look in the morning to see if I have suggestions. I think there's enough here for a whole show.” Then she'd ordered Sonya to go home. Sonya had agreed, but had worked for another half an hour before heading out.

She'd walked into her apartment and headed straight for the bathroom. She was in the middle of a long, hot shower when Keith arrived. They shouted greetings at each other, then Keith said, “I'll just wait patiently for you in my favorite red chair.” Then he added, teasing, “But hurry up.”

He was sitting there when Sonya came out of the bedroom in her favorite robe. He handed her a glass of wine as she took a seat on the arm of the chair.

“How did you figure it all out?” he asked. “For a long time, I thought Jorge Dias was the most obvious suspect. But you didn't.”

“That's right,” Sonya said. “Jorge was only briefly a suspect for me. He arrived the evening Wade was killed. He wouldn't have had the time to crush the pills, soften the ice cream, mix in the poison, and have the ice cream refreeze before Wade got home.

“And he would have had to do all that without being discovered, while Wade was in the apartment. It just wasn't reasonable.”

“Okay, Red,” said Keith. “What about Bella?”

“The grieving widow? She had more to lose than gain by Wade's death. Besides, Kirsten was her only friend in the family and they seemed to genuinely like each other. As a matter of fact, that relationship made me briefly wonder if Kirsten was a suspect.” Sonya laughed at herself.

“But Bella couldn't be sure what she'd inherit if Wade died. She didn't know if he knew about her lover, didn't know what the will said. What she did know was that if Wade sold the diamond, she'd be able to get her hands on a lot of cash.” She paused to kiss Keith, then said, “Your turn. What's your theory on Blair Bruckheimer?”

“A no-brainer. She'd never harm Kirsten. Wade, maybe. Kirsten, no.”

“I figured the same. But something about Blair really shook up Donna. I don't know what it was, and I'm probably better off not knowing.” She sighed.

“What made you decide Harold was the murderer?”

“At first, it was just my gut feeling that somehow he would benefit from Kirsten's death. And he made a slipup during his interview.

“He said that he'd heard from his grandfather that he wasn't feeling well. But Kirsten had told me that Max Lundell had nothing to do with his grandson, so how could Harold know that Max was ill? Only if they had been in touch recently.

“Max had told Irina that he wouldn't buy the diamond for her. Harold knew that—Irina had told him. He had already helped his mother kill Wade. He wanted his mother's love, had always been desperate, and he knew he couldn't get it without the Braganza.” She shuddered. “You should have seen them today at the hospital.”

“Do you really think they murdered Wade together?” Keith asked.

“Maybe. Harold would do almost anything his mother asked of him, and I'm not sure she's the type to mess around with ice cream, even if she was going to use it to kill someone. But she might have done it and then told Harold about her victory over Wade.