The Steel Kiss

She set her purse on the floor and sat in a rattan chair, wincing. There seemed to be a stunned air about her. “That’s right, if you could call it dating. I met him a month or so ago. He was easy to be with. He was quiet and sometimes he would get a little odd. But he was nice to me. Like he never thought anybody would ever go out with him. He’s kind of odd looking, you know. But I never had any idea he be dangerous.” She whispered, eyes wide, “Or kill those people. Officer Sachs told me what he’d done. I couldn’t believe it. He was so talented, making his miniatures. Just… ” She shrugged. Then winced. She searched in her pockets and found a bottle of pills. Shook two out. She asked Rhyme, “Do you…  ?” An awkward moment. “Have an assistant? Could I get some water?”

Before Rhyme could say anything Archer said, “No, he’s away now. But there, there’s a bottle of Deer Park. It’s not opened.” She nodded to a shelf.

“Thanks.” Alicia rose and took what was probably something to combat the pain. She returned to the chair but remained standing, collecting her purse and then slipping the pill bottle into it.

“What happened in your apartment?” Rhyme asked. “Earlier today.”

“He showed up, unexpected. He wanted me to go away with him and confessed what he’d done.” A dismayed whisper. “He actually thought I’d understand. He thought I’d support him.”

Rhyme said, “You were lucky someone was nearby. The superintendent of the building, I think Amelia said.”

Yet, as calm as his words were, Lincoln Rhyme’s mind was racing. He was trying to come up with a strategy that would allow him and Archer to survive the next few minutes.

Because the woman he was smiling at right now was someone whose picture he had just seen earlier ago—in one of the press reports on the U.S. Auto case. It was this page that he n ow found again and paused his scrolling. He glanced at it quickly. The photo depicted a woman in a black dress walking from a courthouse on Long Island. He hadn’t recognized her outside; had he done so, he wouldn’t have let her in. When she’d asked if anybody was here to bring her water, he’d been about to say his aid was in the back room, along with another officer, but Archer had pulled the rug out from under that ploy.

Alicia Morgan had sued U.S. Auto and Patterson Systems for the death of her husband and for her own personal injuries—some burns and deep lacerations when the fuel system of the car her husband was driving caught fire and crashed. Rhyme could now see scars of above the high collar of her blouse.

Rhyme now had a good idea of what had happened: Alicia had hired Vernon Griffith to kill those involved in making, marketing, and selling the defective car, and Valerie Mayer, the lawyer who had defended them. Or, in lieu of payment, maybe Alicia had seduced Griffith into doing so for her; Sachs’s search of the crime scene revealed significant sexual activity. Griffith and Alicia had been surprised when Rhyme and the team had learned his identity, and they’d come up with a new endgame; they’d arranged the “assault” in front of a witness, the superintendent of the building, replete with a broken cheekbone.

And the reason for that?

For one, to remove any suspicion that she was involved.

But then why was she here?

Ah, of course. Alicia had plan of her own. She’d steal any evidence that might implicate her and then kill Rhyme and anyone present, planting other clues that would implicate Vernon in the murders. She’d then meet the man and kill him.

And Alicia Morgan, satisfied in her revenge against the auto company, would be home free.

In her purse would be a gun, he guessed. But now that she’d noted her victims were disabled, she’s probably use one of Griffith’s tools to kill him and Archer.

And Mel Cooper wouldn’t be here for hours. Sachs either. Thom would return in about two hours or so, he guessed. Alicia had plenty of time for murder.

Still, he’d have to try. Rhyme glanced at the clock. “Amelia—Detective Sachs—should be back at any moment. She’s much better at interviewing than I am.”

Alicia gave a very faint reaction. Of course, she’d probably just spoken to Sachs and learned that the woman wouldn’t be back for hours.

Rhyme looked past her and said to Juliette Archer, “You’re looking tired.”

“I…  I am?”

“I think you should go in the other room. Try to sleep.” He looked to Alicia. “Ms. Archer’s condition is more serious than mine. I don’t want her to push herself.”

Archer gave a slight nod and manipulated the controller with her finger. The chair turned. “I think I will, if you don’t mind.”

Motoring toward the doorway.

Alicia, though, stood, strode forward and blocked her. The chair stopped fast.

“What…  What’re you doing?” Archer asked.

Alicia glanced at Archer as if she were an irritating fly and, grabbing the woman by the collar, pulled her from the chair and let her fall onto the floor. Archer’s head smacked the hardwood.

“No!” Rhyme cried.

Archer said desperately, “I need to be upright! My condition, I—”