Page 30 of Fury In Death

They’d also developed vaccines, pushed medical advancements, those bigger tomatoes, and so on.

On the surface, nothing looked hinky. But, Eve thought, with that kind of money and power, why would it?

Scratching under that surface? Another part of her job.

Banner lived, primarily, in an expansive compound on Long Island that included the main house, two guesthouses, two pools—one indoor, one out—a tennis court, a helo pad, and so on.

He also owned, personally, outside the company, two apartments in Manhattan, flats in Paris and London, and a home in Sardinia.

She thought to let that simmer awhile, and do a run on Wyst.

Then heard Peabody’s cowgirl clomp.

“Allen McKay’s on his way up.”

“Let’s take him in the lounge.” Eve pushed up from her desk. “Calvin Banner divorced his wife of nearly forty years and the mother of his daughter for a woman younger than said daughter. That’s the sort of thing that often brings on considerable annoyance.”

“Oh, you betcha. You think, maybe, if she knows something off about the company, that annoyance might convince her to share?”

“It’s a possibility. Why don’t you run her, Madeline Reece Banner, after we talk to McKay? It’ll go into the pile.”

“You got it.”

McKay stepped in, tall and slender in black. His hair was a wave of rich, deep blond around a smooth, handsome face dominated by ice-blue eyes. Those eyes held grief now, and stress.

“Mr. McKay?”

“Yes. I’m supposed to speak with a Lieutenant Dallas.”

“I’m Dallas.” Eve offered a hand. “Thank you for coming in. Detective Peabody and I will talk with you in the lounge. You’ll be more comfortable.”

At Eve’s gesture, he walked with them.

“I don’t think comfort’s on the books today. I don’t really know what to do. I don’t want to intrude on the family, but I want to help.”

“You’re helping right now,” Peabody told him. “Can I get you something? I’d offer coffee, but then I’d tell you to pass. It’s horrible. The tea’s okay. Soft drinks and water are your best bet.”

It put him a little more at ease, Eve noted. Just as Peabody intended.

“Could I get a Coke? We—my husband and I—were trying to cut down on caffeine. It’s not working, especially with a six-month-old.”

He sat at the little table, looked around. “I’ve never been in Cop Central before. It’s a maze. A really big one. So many people.” He shut his eyes. “I’m babbling. I just can’t find my balance.”

“You worked for the Chus for several years?”

“Almost nine. I started soon after Devin and I—my husband—moved to New York. I don’t want to say Larry was like a father to me. I have a father. I love my father. But he was still family. My employers, he and Rae, but family all the same.”

“You left the house at your usual time yesterday?”

“Yes. They—Larry and Rae—had plans for the evening with friends. I will often stay until five or after, just to make sure they have everything they need or want, but they were having dinner out.”

“Any problems between Mr. Chu and his wife?”

McKay took the tube Peabody brought him, then turned it around nervously in his hands. “Nothing, absolutely nothing that rises to this. I want to be absolutely transparent with you because anything that helps, I want to do. I served as a sounding board now and then. Rae might complain to me that Larry was doing too much snacking, or he’d bought something she saw as foolish while neglecting to get a new suit, that sort of thing. He might say something about her pretending her monthly book club was anything more than a girl wine and gab fest or insisting they needed a new whatever when the whatever they had was fine.

“Just small, silly things. They loved each other, and it showed. They have a lovely family. And when Devin and I wanted to start ours, they wrote a wonderful letter to the agency who helped us.”

“Did he ever use you as a sounding board for problems or issues at work?”