Alex Delaware: Evidence - Part 40
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Part 40

Milo fiddled with his papers some more, feigned confusion. "Kind of a one-woman truth squad ... So you met Des online and the two of you decided to burn some twigs."

"I decided."

"He was your supplier," said Milo. "Knew where to get equipment. That was the real reason you hired him. The real reason you established your firm."

Silence.

"Nice sh.e.l.l," he went on, "for explaining your presence in L.A., giving you a reason to be hanging with Des. Covering expenses-fifty thousand in cash? Who's the real source of all that money, your father?"

No response.

"The road trip to Port Angeles, Helga. Nice, crisp bills in two suitcases. The kind you get fresh from a bank. The kind that gets released when one bank talks to another."

Helga Gemein poked a finger under her wig. "I would like some water."

Milo collected his papers and left. Alone, Helga fooled with the hairpiece some more, ma.s.saging the top of the glossy black strands, working a finger joint under the hem and poking around.

Don Boxmeister said, "What, she's got cooties? Maybe we should've strip-searched her."

Maria Thomas said, "What I said still stands, Don: No sense alienating her right off, he needs something to work with. And it's paying off, she admitted premeditation." Several pokes at the BlackBerry. "I'm needed back in an hour, hope he can nail the b.i.t.c.h soon."

Helga straightened the wig, turned, leaned on the table. Sat and planted her boots on the floor. Her eyes closed. Her head swayed.

"What the h.e.l.l's she doing?" said Boxmeister. "Some kind of meditation?"

I said, "Probably dissociation. Putting herself somewhere else is her default strategy."

Milo returned with a small cup of water. Helga didn't acknowledge him, but her eyes opened when he said, "Here you go," and placed it in front of her.

He put on reading gla.s.ses, reviewed his notes. She eyed him, finally sipped.

"Okay, tell me about the trip to Port Angeles."

She touched a fringe of wig. "I engaged in tourism. The great lifeblood of American pseudo-culture."

"A pleasure trip."

"I have been to Disneyland, as well."

"Guess I don't need to ask if you liked it."

"Actually," she said, "it was quite pleasing in its own repugnant way. Consistent."

"With vulgar American culture?"

"With a world devoid of reason."

He harrumphed. Slid a couple of sheets toward her. "This is your registration form from the Myrtlewood Inn in Port Angeles. And this is your car rental receipt."

"I stayed at a nice hotel," she said. "So?"

"You and Des Backer both stayed there. You took separate rooms, the staff remembers you paying for both. They also recall seeing you and Des at breakfast together."

Guesses. Good ones. Helga Gemein frowned. "So what? I already told you I got my equipment from him."

"It was a purchasing trip."

"Sightseeing, then some purchasing."

"Why'd you give Des your car and rent another vehicle for yourself?"

"Because we were not together."

"As..."

"As being together."

"Did you drive up together?"

"I drove, he flew."

"So no one at the office would suspect anything."

"I wanted to drive," said Helga. "He wanted to fly. He wanted to visit his family."

"What did you do when he was visiting?"

"I shopped."

"For timers and fuses?"

"Among other things," said Helga.

"What things?"

"Clothing."

"Find some bargains?"

"Jeans," she said, stroking one shapely thigh. "Black jeans on sale."

"You drove because you couldn't risk an airport security check with fifty thousand dollars in two suitcases."

Helga took several seconds to respond. "If you know so much, why are you wasting my time?"

"That darn old procedure thing. I need to hear it from you."

"All because of twigs?"

"Afraid so. They were big twigs. Owned by an important person."

"No one is important."

"Obviously someone was to you, Helga." He moved in closer, like I'd seen him do so many times. Spreading his shoulders and hardening his voice.

She flinched reflexively. Forced a smile.

He a.s.serted his big face inches from hers. "Helga, someone was important enough for you to pay fifty thousand dollars to burn down twigs. Important enough for you to set up a sh.e.l.l company. Important enough for you to plan precisely."

Helga Gemein's chest heaved. She looked away. Beginning of the end.

"Helga, you'd like me to think you believe in nothing, but the way I see it, everything you did was an act of pure faith. Because that's what vengeance is, right? Pure faith in the power of correction. That wrong can be made right."

Pretty lips quivered. She stilled them with another smirk. "Ridiculous."

"Faith motivated by love, Helga."

Silence.

Milo said, "You loved Dahlia, nothing to be ashamed of, on the contrary. But it is downright fundamentalist, taking faith that far. You may not be religious, Helga, but you have no trouble drawing upon religion when it works for you."

Helga Gemein rolled her eyes. Let loose with a ragged, too-loud laugh.

The sudden rise of her shoulders, the rippling along her jawline gave her away.

Milo said, "Sutma." No answer.

"You've heard of sutma, Helga."

"Primitive nonsense."

"Maybe so, Helga, but the point was Prince Teddy and his family don't agree."

Waiting for a reaction to the name.

A single blink. Then nothing.

Milo said, "Or maybe it's not just them. Maybe you really do believe in heaven and h.e.l.l and all that good stuff. But that doesn't really matter, Helga. The point is the sultan and the rest of the family believes and after what was done to Dahlia, you needed to grab hold of any shred of revenge you could find. Because Teddy's out of your reach, geographically, financially, you can't touch him. But cosmically? You burned those twigs in order to leave Teddy dangling in cosmic limbo. Downright terrifying for someone who believes in sutma."

Silence.

He said, "It is a funny concept, though. If I was a religious person, I'd want to believe just the opposite-destroying material remains speeds up entry to the next world."

He laughed, clapped his hands hard, sprang up, paced the room twice.

Helga watched, alarmed. Forced herself to stop following his circuit. Sat still as he came to a halt behind her.

She stared straight ahead, pretending not to care about the ma.s.sive figure shadowing her.

Her jawline was an information highway.

"Reason I just laughed, Helga, is I had a sudden insight-an epiphany, I guess you'd call it. You're totally into ritual. Like shaving your head. Since the first time I met you I've been trying to figure it out, why would you do something like that. But now I get it. It's a ritual of self-abas.e.m.e.nt you took on until you achieved your goal. Like fasting on Lent-wouldn't surprise me if you've done your share of that, too. Other kinds of fasting. Maybe even a vow of celibacy."

Her jaw clenched.

"How long ago, Helga, did you start eating meat during Lent? If you ever did. Do you eat your Lent veggies and explain it as meta-ecology?"

Helga Gemein shut her eyes.

"Even so, it's religion, Helga. Are you a strict vegetarian? Or do you sneak meat when no one's looking?"

Silence.

"Once a Catholic, always a Catholic, Helga. Believe me, I know."

She folded her arms. Let them drop. Began deep-breathing.

"Oh, come on," said Milo. "Let's be just a little bit honest and 'fess up like they taught you in convent school: At the core, you're devout, believe sin must be punished. And there's no greater sin than murder. Especially the murder of an innocent like Dahlia."

Helga Gemein's eyelids scrunched tighter. Tears trickled out.

"You loved Dahlia, that's not a bad thing, that's a good thing, she loved you, too. Believing is a good thing, Helga. It helps me understand what you did. Everything you've done since you arrived in this country has been aimed at getting justice for Dahlia. You're powerless to go to Sranil and do what you dream about-though I'm sure you haven't given up on that. And maybe Daddy hasn't, either. But meanwhile ..."

She let out a cry. Clamped a hand over her mouth.

Milo bent close, spoke softly, inches from her ear. "You're a survivor aiming for justice. That's human, Helga, and no matter what you say, you're a member of the species."

The entire lower half of Helga's face began to tremble. She pressed one palm to her cheek, failed to still waves of twitches.

Milo pulled his chair so their knees were just short of contact.

"Let the b.a.s.t.a.r.d dangle," he said tenderly. "He deserves it."

Moving in closer. "What I don't understand is why you had to kill Des and Doreen?"

Helga opened her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"I think we've moved past self-delusion, Helga."

"You are ridiculous."

He handed her a tissue. She swatted it away.

Milo watched it flutter to the floor. "Why'd you have to kill them, Helga? Did they get greedy and ask for more money?"

Helga Gemein shook her head. "Fool."

Milo said, "Or were they just a nuisance and expendable? Time to cover your tracks."