Part 16
Martin continued. “When Mrs. Vale moved toward the telephone, I checked the drawer. I used a clean food-storage pouch from the pantry. I have not opened it.”
“A food-storage pouch,” Celeste repeated. “How forensic.”
“It was preferable to leaving it where someone might remove it.”
Conrad closed his eyes for a moment.
The pavilion smelled of wax, white roses, and the yeasty sweetness of spilled champagne. A drop reached the edge of the tablecloth and struck the floor.
Evelyn heard herself say, “I’m sorry.”
Conrad opened his eyes. “For which part?”
She had no safe answer.
The deputies arrived twelve minutes later, though to Evelyn it seemed both immediate and impossibly slow. Their headlights passed through the bare trees and swept across the glass walls before disappearing around the circular drive. Martin met them at the main entrance and returned with Deputy Lena Ortiz and Sergeant Paul Dwyer, both wearing rain-darkened jackets despite the clear sky.
Ortiz took in the room before speaking. Her gaze rested on the overturned coupe, the stain, the decanter, Evelyn’s reddened cheek, and Celeste’s rigid posture.
“Who called?”
“I did,” Martin said.
“Who owns the property?”
Conrad lifted one hand.
“Mr. Vale, I need everyone to stay where they are for a minute.”
Celeste reached for her phone on the table.
Ortiz stopped her with a look. “Please don’t touch that yet.”
“This is absurd.”
“It may be. I still need you not to touch it.”
“My attorney will be here within an hour.”
“That is your right.”
Celeste looked at Conrad, waiting for him to object to the tone. He did not.
Dwyer photographed the table from several angles. Ortiz separated the four of them without moving anyone far enough to disturb the room. Conrad went to the east corner near the glass. Celeste remained at the table. Martin stood by the door. Evelyn was placed near the brass wall lights, where her cheek felt conspicuously exposed.
Ortiz spoke to her first.
The deputy’s manner was calm without being gentle. She asked the same question in several forms, testing the edges. Why had Evelyn returned? Why had she recorded? Why had she not called anyone? Had she altered the video? Had she and Celeste argued previously? Had Conrad ever made Evelyn uncomfortable? Had Evelyn consumed any alcohol?
Evelyn answered until her tongue felt thick.
When Ortiz asked whether she wanted to report the slap, Evelyn looked toward the center of the pavilion.
Celeste sat with her back straight and her hands folded. She was no longer watching Conrad. She was watching Evelyn.
“Yes,” Evelyn said.
It was the first decision of the evening that felt entirely hers.
Ortiz nodded once and wrote it down.
Dr. Pike arrived before the deputies finished. He came in wearing corduroy trousers and a navy sweater under an old wool coat, his gray hair flattened on one side as though he had been reading in bed. He checked Conrad’s pupils, pulse, blood pressure, and coordination, then asked whether he had swallowed any champagne.
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
Conrad’s gaze shifted toward Evelyn. “I am.”
Dr. Pike looked at the decanter. “Has anyone else had it?”
Celeste said, “I had half a glass before dinner.”
Every head turned toward her.
She lifted her chin. “And as you can see, I am perfectly well.”
“From the decanter?” Evelyn asked.
Celeste’s eyes narrowed. “From the bottle.”
Evelyn remembered the service sequence. Celeste had entered the pantry before the champagne was poured into the decanter, holding a coupe that she claimed had come from the kitchen.
“You drank before it was decanted,” Evelyn said.
“That is what I just said.”
Conrad’s face changed again, but only slightly.
Dr. Pike recommended that Conrad go to the hospital for observation and blood work. Conrad resisted until the doctor mentioned the episodes.
“What episodes?” Ortiz asked.
Dr. Pike’s pause was brief and professionally guarded.
Conrad answered for him. “Fatigue. Confusion. Three or four times.”
“Seven,” Celeste said.
He looked at her.
“You told me about seven.”
“I did not.”
“You forget what you tell people. That is part of the problem.”
The cruelty of the sentence was quiet enough that Evelyn wondered whether anyone else had heard it as cruelty.
Conrad pressed his thumb into the opposite palm. “When did these episodes begin?”
“Late winter,” Dr. Pike said.
“And when did I report them?”
“March.”
“That was after our trip to Palm Beach,” Celeste said. “You collapsed in the hotel bathroom.”
“I sat down because I was dizzy.”
“You were on the floor.”
“I sat down.”
“It took you fifteen minutes to remember the room number.”
Conrad turned to Dr. Pike. “What did you think caused it?”
“We discussed several possibilities. Dehydration, an interaction between your cardiac medication and alcohol, sleep deprivation. Your imaging was normal.”
“Did you test for this?” Conrad gestured toward the decanter.
“For an unidentified substance no one knew to suspect? No.”
Ortiz asked Dr. Pike to accompany Conrad to the hospital. Dwyer began arranging for the decanter, coupe, tablecloth, packet, and other glasses to be collected. He asked Martin for clean boxes and was told the estate had wine-shipping cartons in the cellar.
Celeste stood.
“I’m going upstairs.”
Ortiz stepped between her and the door. “I need to speak with you first.”
“I will speak when counsel arrives.”
“You don’t have to answer questions. You do need to remain available while we determine whether a crime occurred.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“Not at this moment.”
“Then I’m going upstairs.”
Ortiz did not touch her. “Mrs. Vale, the least complicated choice tonight is to sit down.”
Celeste looked past her at Conrad. “Are you allowing this?”
He seemed to consider the question as if it had been asked in another language.
“You struck Evelyn,” he said.
“She assaulted your glass.”
“You struck her.”
“She humiliated me in my home.”
Conrad’s mouth opened, then closed. The weakness in that failed response frightened Evelyn more than anger would have.
May you like
Celeste saw it too.
Her voice softened. “Conrad, you are overwhelmed. You need quiet. You need me to come with you.”
