“Not in the least. I’m a lover, not a fighter. Isn’t that right, Dello?”
She didn’t spare him a glance. “You’re a man of tactics, Hugo, without a clear strategy to guide them.”
“Still, I have you, don’t I? I’ll just be upstairs if I’m needed. Absolutely thrilling to meet you both.”
As he walked upstairs, Delores crossed her legs, let out a breath.
“You’re here about Jordan.”
“We’ll start there.”
“I’m sorry he’s dead. It would be foolish to deny, since Hugo was so helpful. I had sex with Jordan on Monday night, at the party. Thad Trulane’s and Delvinia Otter’s party.”
“Your husband didn’t seem surprised or overly concerned about your relationship with Jordan Banks.”
“I wouldn’t call a brief sexual encounter a ‘relationship,’ but no, Hugo’s neither surprised nor concerned. Hugo and I haven’t been intimate in over a year. Our marriage is nothing more than a legal contract at this point.”
She sat, her back ruler straight, her face calmly composed. Unless, Eve thought, you looked carefully. Then you saw misery beneath the polish.
“We each go on own way,” she continued. “If you suspect him of killing Jordan out of a jealous fury, that wouldn’t be the case. Frankly, fury’s just too much effort for a man like Hugo. I didn’t particularly like Jordan.”
“But you had sex with him.”
“Yes. I went to the party because I like Delvinia, I wanted to blow off a little steam, and because I didn’t know Hugo would be there. I hadn’t seen him for several days.”
“Is that usual?”
“Yes. We go our own way, as I said, and generally stay out of each other’s way. When I saw him there, it annoyed me. And I had impulsive, if briefly satisfying, sex with Jordan. Then I left, came home.”
“And your husband?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know how long he stayed, when he came back, if he came back alone or with someone. That’s how it works for us.”
“Why?” Peabody shifted. “You don’t like your husband. Why are you living with him?”
“My parents are adamantly opposed to divorce. They’d be very disappointed to know I’ve had sexual relations outside of marriage, but divorce
would be even more disappointing. Hugo was a mistake, but he’s my mistake. Right now, I’m living with the mistake. He’s well aware why I do.”
She looked away then, toward the expansive, exclusive view of New York. “I think it amuses him.”
“How well did he know Jordan?”
“Well enough. My impression is Jordan set out to seduce me because I was the wife of a friend—however casual a friend. They share some qualities, some interests. Sports, travel, gambling, women.”
“The stock market?”
Puzzlement drew her eyebrows together. “The stock market. I couldn’t tell you about Jordan, but Hugo doesn’t trouble himself with that sort of thing, to my knowledge. He has people who trouble themselves on his behalf.”
“Art?”
“Jordan, of course. Hugo? Not particularly. Oh, Hugo’s educated and can talk art. But he doesn’t have any real interest in it. In anything really but what gives him pleasure. He’s lazy—a cardinal sin in my family, but he hides it well. I can’t give him an alibi for Jordan, but I can say, killing someone? Far too much effort, and he certainly wouldn’t exert that effort on my behalf.”
“Where were you all weekend?”
“Amelia can tell you the details and timing precisely, but on Friday, my mother, sister, and I—and our support staff—traveled to Paris to meet with some accounts. We came back Monday morning.
“I hope you find who killed Jordan, but I didn’t know him well enough to help you. I’m sorry, but I do have another meeting.”