Part 59: Much Too Early, Late That Same Morning.
Nepotism stops and looks up. “Did you write anything about Venus?”
“Did you talk about it at the bar?” I ask, sitting down on the back right corner of the bed, which has been completely trashed.
“Probably.”
“Then I probably wrote it down.” I don’t see any blood, so if they did kill her, it didn’t happen in her bedroom. These people survive in mystery and legend. If someone killed Eva right here, bullet in her head as she lie in bed, it would be open and shut. No one would say a word about it. If Eva Lorraine disappears, there are a million questions to be answered, and not one is sufficient. We are dealing with people whose legacy is an ocean of ‘what ifs?’
Nepotism always reads my thoughts. “They’ll set you up like Einhorn.”
“Shut up.”
“She’ll be found in a trunk somewhere, chopped to bits...”
“Shut up.”
“...with no question that you are the culprit.”
“God, don’t you ever shut up?”
“They had to frame Ira,” he insists, moving onto the closet, diving into a mess of her blouses and skirts that had been torn from their hangers. “Einhorn had to be discredited.” He plunges elbow-deep with his right hand, working about in the still-warm corpse of Eva’s fashion sense. “He could have turned so many people on to Puharic’s plot. So tie him up with the whole murder thing.” He looks up from the dresses once more, finger poised in the air. “Could you imagine what’d happen if that shit got out?”
I shake my head. “Do you think they left her under a pile of clothes?”
“I’m looking for your notebook.” He plunges his left hand into the pile and lifting the whole mess off the ground.
“Will you think about Eva?” I say sharply.
“It ties you to her very intimately.” Nepotism says. “She has the handwritten notebook. It shows she had some very recent contact with you, and with your history of violence...”
“I don’t have a history of violence!” I protest, turning to face him, shotgun slung at my chest.
“You will when the media is done.” He motions for me to follow back in the bedroom where he pulls apart the few gowns still left hanging. “Let’s not forget Metro City. Every newspaper in the country had pictures of you leading the charges against the police. Hell, in Texas that’s enough to get you executed.”
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