“That has nothing to do with this interview,” Samuel interrupted, with some heat. “And if you think you can insinuate that Josie had anything to do with what happened—”
“Are you also legal rep for your sister-in-law?”
His jaw tightened. “If need be.”
“Fine, I’ll let you know if need be and if I require a follow-up with Mrs. Carter. You were aware, were you not, Mr. Crocker, that alcoholic additives were routinely used in the victim’s stage water?”
“Yes.” Billy sighed. “Lieutenant, as that isn’t what killed him, I don’t want to see that made public.”
“You also stated you were busy during the opening performance by the singers, checking details. You’d have been traveling behind that drop, from one wing to the other, correct?”
“At various points in time, yes.”
“And did you see anyone approach the water bottles, see anyone out of place, see anyone behaving in a nervous or suspicious manner?”
“I’m sorry, no. The singers and musicians were onstage. Others were in their dressing rooms, some in the little canteen. I do think I saw Merna there, briefly, with some of the children. Techs would have been moving about, but for the most part, at least in those last few minutes, everyone should have been in place. No one should have been behind the drop. I didn’t see anyone there.”
“Okay. As manager, did you keep Mr. Jenkins’s schedule? Arrange his appointments.”
“Yes, those were my duties.”
“You’d have his ’link numbers, be able to reach him at any time.”
“Absolutely.”
“And would, as his manager, know his whereabouts? Particularly when touring like this.”
“That would be essential,” Billy agreed. “If something came up, Jimmy Jay wanted to know. He wasn’t just a figurehead, Lieutenant. He was the head of the church. He worked very hard, and was involved in every aspect, every area.”
“And it was your job that he was where he needed to be when he needed to be there.”
“Exactly.”
“You also had a long, close relationship with the victim.”
“Yes. Yes, I did.”
“Did you spend time together—free time, I mean. Leisure time.”
“Oh yes. Quite often.” His shoulders relaxed, but the hand that had moved from his tie to his leg plucked, plucked, plucked at his pants at the knee. “Our families sometimes vacationed together, and we enjoyed having barbecues. When my wife was alive . . . You remember, Sam.”
“I do. She made the best potato salad in Mississippi. Rest her soul.”
“And did you and the victim—just the two of you—ever spend leisure time together?”
“We fished. Often with the boys, or other friends. But, yes, sometimes just the two of us.”
“You spent a lot of time—between the work of the church and free time—in each other’s company.”
“It was rare for a day to go by we didn’t spend time.”
“So you know he was engaged in an extramarital affair.”
The air went out of Billy, as if Eve had pulled a plug. But Samuel came up out of his chair, quivering with outrage. “How dare you! How dare you slander a man like Jimmy Jay! If you speak one word of that indefensible lie outside this room, I can promise we will sue you, and the New York City Police and Security Department.”
“The affair has been confirmed, and documented on record,” Eve said coolly.
“Then I insist on seeing that confirmation, that documentation. If you think I’ll take your word, or allow you to go to the media with—”