As the car moves along the street, Whitson looks away, glowering at the iron figurines in front of the school of arts building at Arlington University. Perhaps it’s his first time in the United Kingdom, or perchance the old doctor is being evasive. Nonetheless, I prefer eye contact.
“Let us continue,” I begin, “it’s a very short ride to my estate. I’m sure Luxury will enjoy showing you the town.”
Jonah shifts back around, meeting my glare. I appraise him for another beat.
“Now that I have your undivided attention, did you murder your wife?”
“Me?” Jonah’s stiff hand knocks at his chest. He snatches his reading glasses from his front pocket and hastily places them on. “You thinkImurderedmy wife? I thought you were the man with connections and information. Didn't you say you could tap into the NYPD database? If you hadinfluence,then you should know I was at Greco Technology’s annual convention.”
I chuckle as I often do when someone lies to me. If Whitson had no association with Luxury, this discussion would play out a bit differently. “You are correct. I have connections.”
“So?” A perturbed brow flicks.
“Also,I’ve this nasty, little habit ofnotcreating inferences without assessing the risk of being wrong. If you continue to lie to me, I will disassociate my feelings for your daughter.”
“Are you threatening—”
“You? Yes, I am. I’m threatening your life. You’re aware of my hobby.” A malicious smile sharpens the corners of my mouth. “Allow me to enlighten you further. With Tudor Enterprises, there’s never been a time in which I made a business move without my fleet of risk advisers. I spend millions of euros a year for the sole purpose of diminishing error. Now that we have a mutual understanding, Jonah,” I hiss, “I’llcontinueto waste my valuable time to remind you of your itinerary from fifteen months ago!Youpaid for a plane ticket.Youpurchased a room for Greco Technology’s three-day convention. You attended the day before, and might I add that your speech during the event was impeccable. Round of applause, standing ovation foryourlatest cardiovascular discoveries.”
Jonah’s hard glare begins to waver as I continue.
“Now, as for my connections which surpasses the NYPD, we have discovered that you are indeed without an alibi during your wife's murder. You were not among thousands of scientific, like-minded individuals. You only attended dayoneand daythreeof the convention. Yet, and might I add, how cliché? Your sexy assistant—that you’ve fucked on countless occasions—signed you in for the second day. Were those twenty-four hours dedicated to last-minute preparations?”
“Screw you.”
“Your leggy chippie signed you in on day three; nevertheless, no video footage shows you at the hotel, nor in the general area on theday of Gina Whitson’s murder.”
A glint flickers in his eyes.
This isoneof the reasons I’ve been preparing Luxury. She’ll be devastated.
“For Luxury’s sake,” I shrug, “my intention is only to gather as much information as I can acquire before letting her know what happened.”
“N-no, I did not murder my wife. I was with,” Whitson clears his throat, “with another woman.”
“Another?”
“A third.”
When I reach into the inside of my blazer, Whitson inhales sharply. With a cocksure grin, I remove my mobile and press the Note app. “I will require her name, date of birth, address, and any vital information that you have for verification. I’m sure you understand.”
“I can’t recall.”
I lean forward, holding out the phone. My other hand moves coolly to my blazer, unbuttoning it until the wanka has a glimpse of my weapon. “Oh, but you must.”
Whitson snatches the phone, and punctuated typing follows.
Once complete, he thrusts my mobile back into my hand. I pore over the all-capped letters, satisfied with the information he’s provided. “Alright, mate?”
Whitson runs a heavy hand over his thick hair. “Take me to my daughter now.”
“As you wish.” I snap my fingers, bringing his attention to the manor looming ahead of us.
38
Luxury
Victor has imprinted himself on my heart. The second he exits the backseat of the car, I run down the steps to him. He said he had a surprise. Screw the surprise. Every square inch of my body zings at the thrill of his touch.