Page 63 of Fury In Death

“Okay. She’s working for the wrong company. Next?”

“Arleen Norse,” Baxter began, “age sixty-seven. Springs from the Norse family of the Hudson Valley, where she now lives. They made their money, and lots of it, in paint. You know, house paint. She doesn’t come up to pretty, big-brained Lorilee’s level, but she’s no slouch. Yale grad, lawyer, practiced up until the birth of her first kid, then did occasional pro bono work, steered a lot of committees, helped run the Norse Family Foundation. No criminal, since we don’t count speeding tickets. She’s racked those up.

“She took the summer home—now her main residence—in the divorce, along with a villa in Tuscany and a financial payment of four billion. No remarriages or official cohabs. She now has her own practice. Environmental law, and the kicker? She’s repped half a dozen clients who’ve sued Banner-Wyst for violations thereof.”

Eve sat back. “I find that a really nice kicker.”

“Thought you might. Additional kick? She won five out of six, and settled out of court on the sixth.”

“Even better. I believe Arleen and I need to have a conversation. Good quick work, both of you. Appreciated.”

“Tap us in if you need anything else. We’re still loose.”

“As long as you are, take some time, familiarize yourselves with the investigation.”

“On it. Let’s get some coffee, my young friend, and dive into that.”

“Sounds good, Pops,” Trueheart said, and made Baxter laugh as they walked out.

Eve got coffee of her own, then pulled up Arleen Norse’s contact.

A pretty young face popped on-screen. “Good afternoon. Norse Law Offices.”

“This is Lieutenant Dallas with the NYPSD. I’d like to speak with Arleen Norse.”

“Yes, ma’am. May I ask what this is in reference to?”

“I’m a police lieutenant, not a ma’am, and it’s in reference to Banner-Wyst and a couple of murders.”

“Yes, ma—Lieutenant. Please hold while I see if Ms. Norse is available.”

She went to holding blue, and gave Arleen Norse points for not adding mind-melting music. It took the lady in question less than a full minute to come on.

Eve decided she looked her age, but a well-tended and polished version with a sharp wedge of silver hair around an angular face.

“Lieutenant Dallas, Arleen Norse.”

“Thank you for taking the time to speak with me.”

“I’m making time. I heard about Larry Chu’s murder. There’s been another?”

“Ezra Dent.”

Arleen had hazel eyes that leaned into the green. Regret flickered into them. “I’m very sorry to hear that. Should I assume these murders are connected, and linked to Banner-Wyst?”

“We are pursuing that avenue.”

Arleen’s lips curved into a quick, hard smile. “I’ve read about you, Lieutenant, and though my life is no longer centered in the city, followed some of your cases. You didn’t contact me to pass the time.”

“No, ma’am, nor to waste it. You were married to Jacob Wyst.”

“Yes, I was, for two decades. Do you believe he’s involved?”

“The company he heads has had two of its key employees brutally murdered within a twelve-hour period. While we don’t, at this time, consider Mr. Wyst a suspect, he may very well be a target.”

Eve saw surprise, then quick calculation. “While there’s no love lost between me and Jacob, I hardly want to see the father of my children murdered. Am I a suspect?”

“Not at this time.”