‘We can’t leave tomorrow,’ Willie interrupted him. Glen Foman followed his client’s gaze up to the balcony of the villa’s master bedroom, where Willie’s wife sat reading the newspaper, as cool and calm as Lady Macbeth. He’s scared of her, Glen thought. Even with a possible murder charge hanging over him, he’s too afraid to cross Valentina.
‘Mrs Baden wouldn’t need to come,’ Glen reassured him. ‘It would only be you and me. We could turn around and be back here within twenty-four hours.’
‘No,’ said Willie. ‘The cops want to speak to her too.’
‘Since when?’ Glen frowned. ‘Willie, you need to tell me these things. I’m your lawyer. What do they want to talk to your wife about?’
‘How the hell should I know?’ Willie barked. ‘Anyway it’s not just Valentina. I have business here, in Mexico City. Important business, with people who don’t like to be let down.’
‘Well, business can wait,’ Glen said bluntly. ‘You need to give the police something, Willie. Hiding out here makes you look guilty.’
Willie’s eyes darted nervously from his lawyer, to the master bedroom balcony, to the ground at his feet. He’s like a trapped rat, thought Glen. Was it only his wife he was afraid of? Or something else? If Willie Baden hadn’t been such a thoroughly unpleasant man, Glen might have felt sorry for him.
Willie looked up at his attorney mournfully. ‘I just want this to end.’
‘Then end it.’
‘It’s not that simple.’ Willie rubbed his temples. ‘Like I said, my business associates here are people you don’t want to cross.’
‘Don’t tell me,’ said Glen, raising a hand. ‘I don’t need to know. One problem at a time, OK, Willie? Because your girlfriend’s murder is a big problem for you right now, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘I’ve been reading in the press about this therapist woman, Roberts,’ said Willie. ‘Evidently, Lisa was talking to her. Do you think …?’
‘It’s all handled,’ Glen assured him. ‘I’m on this sh
it, Willie, OK? You need to trust me. But you also need to follow my advice. Go back – with your wife, if the cops have asked to see her. Give the statement I’ve written, no more, no less. Be seen to be cooperating.’
Willie hesitated. His rheumy old eyes looked up again to the house, but Valentina had gone back inside.
‘Do you want me to talk to Mrs Baden?’ Glen offered.
‘No,’ said Willie. ‘I’ll do it. But whatever happens, we need to be back here by Friday. This business in Mexico City is more important than you realize, Glen.’
‘By Friday,’ the attorney nodded. ‘You have my word. Now go pack.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘Tell me please, Mrs Roberts. How long did you take off work after your husband passed away?’
Beneath the interview room table, Nikki dug her fingernails hard into her palms and counted to ten. I must not let this man get under my skin. I must not let him provoke me. That’s giving him what he wants.
‘Again, Detective Johnson, it’s Doctor Roberts.’ She used her softest, most patronizing tone to correct him. ‘You seem to be having a tough time remembering that. Have you always had trouble with your memory? Or is it something age-related?’
Johnson’s jowly face reddened to an ugly puce as his partner suppressed a giggle. Unlike Dr Roberts, Goodman noticed, Johnson showed no self-control when provoked, rising to Nikki’s bait like a starving fish.
‘Oh, I’m not having a tough time remembering anything, lady. I merely choose not to dignify your bullshit profession with a title that actually means something to some people. We both know you aren’t a real doctor.’
Mick looks like an overcooked hotdog about to burst out of its skin, Goodman thought, wincing at his partner’s crassness. Johnson had issues around women in general, but for some reason this particular woman seemed to bring out the absolute worst in him.
Goodman couldn’t understand why. In his opinion, Dr Roberts was looking particularly beautiful this afternoon, in a taupe pencil skirt and matching silk shirt. The outfit was the same color as her tanned skin, giving an exciting, if fleeting, impression of nakedness. Her calm, collected manner was attractive as well, at least in Lou Goodman’s eyes. He liked a woman who could handle herself.
‘Answer the question. How long were you off work?’ Johnson snapped.
‘Around six weeks,’ said Nikki.
‘Seems a long time.’
‘Does it?’ Nikki deadpanned.