The Finishing School

4

THE OBVIOUS FIRST STEP in learning more about the victims was interviewing Whitney Seward’s stepfather, in whose apartment they’d drawn their last breaths, and who’d apparently discovered their bodies. Speaking to Seward’s wife, Charlotte, would have to wait, since she was under sedation and unable to talk.

Melanie and Ray-Ray found James Seward seated at a marble-topped table in the lavish kitchen, speaking to his campaign manager on a cell phone. His gray-blond hair, lashless pale eyes, and aristocratic nose were familiar to anybody who watched the six o’clock news. Seward was now in the process of trying to buy himself a Senate seat, which was turning into an expensive and messy proposition. He was one of many candidates in a crowded primary field. Allegations swirled around him-from questionable trading practices on Wall Street to fund-raising scandals during his tenure as state party chairman-and he was trailing badly in the polls. Melanie recognized that she had a preexisting impression of this guy as slippery and dangerous, so she warned herself to keep an open mind.

Seward ignored their presence for as long as he possibly could, then put his hand over the mouthpiece irritably. “Yes? What is it?”

“Melanie Vargas from the U.S. Attorney’s Office and Special Agent Raymond Wong from DEA,” Melanie said as they both flashed their credentials. “We need to ask you some questions, sir.”

“I’m busy right now. Phone my campaign headquarters in the morning,” he said.

Melanie and Ray-Ray looked at each other. Was this guy kidding?

“Sir, we’re investigating federal narcotics violations that resulted in two deaths. If you don’t cooperate voluntarily, we’ll subpoena you to the grand jury and place you under oath,” Melanie said.

Seward’s pale eyes seemed to focus on her finally. Something in their expression changed subtly, and he got off his phone call.

“Do forgive me, Miss-What did you say your name was?” he said after hanging up.

“Vargas. Melanie Vargas from the U.S. Attorney’s Office.”

“I’m under terrible stress tonight, as you can imagine. My stepdaughter is dead. My wife is devastated. And the press is all over me, screaming for blood.”

“We’ll do our best to keep this brief.”

“Thank you. I would very much appreciate that. It’s been a difficult night.”

“You have my deepest sympathy. I’m a parent, too.” From what Melanie had observed so far, Seward wasn’t exactly overcome with emotion, but who knew? The guy was an uptight WASP. Maybe this was grief-stricken on him. He certainly looked haggard anyway.

Seward took them to what he called his library to get away from the bustle of emergency personnel in the main part of the apartment. It was a large, paneled drawing room with lots of lavishly upholstered sofas and shelf after shelf of the type of gilt-edged books that decorators bought and nobody actually read. A desk sat in one corner, big and shiny as an ocean liner. Seward settled himself behind it in an imposing leather chair.

“Please, have a seat.” He nodded toward two high-backed, uncomfortable-looking wing chairs facing the desk, and Melanie and Ray-Ray sat down. Ray-Ray opened his notebook, pen poised.

“I’ll be happy to tell you anything I can,” Seward offered.

“Let’s start with the basics. What time did you discover the bodies?” Melanie asked.

“It wasn’t actually me who discovered them. It was the building super, Luis Reyes. He has a master key, and he’d come up here looking for his daughter, who’s a classmate of Whitney’s. I wasn’t home at the time. Charlotte and I were at a benefit at the downtown Guggenheim.”

“Oh! I was under the impression you’d found the bodies yourself,” Melanie said.

“The police may have assumed that, since I was here when they arrived. But I never said so. You’re the first person who directly asked me whether I discovered them or not.”

“But it was you who called the police?”

“Oh, yes. Not just the police. The commissioner.”

“I’m surprised Mr. Reyes didn’t just call 911 when he found the bodies. That’s the usual reaction.”

Seward hesitated for a millisecond. “Yes. Well. You see, I told him not to. Frankly, I didn’t trust Luis to handle things properly. Given the sensitive nature of the situation, I preferred to pursue it with my own contacts at a…uh, higher level. Many of the 911 dispatchers take money to feed tips to the tabloids, you know.”

“I see. All right, we’ll speak to Mr. Reyes also. He’s here?”

“No, he went downstairs to his apartment. In the basement. He was quite upset, so I told him to go lie down.”

“You told him to leave the scene before the police arrived?”

“Yes. I hope that’s not a problem. I can get him right back up here if you like.”

“That won’t be necessary. We’ll go downstairs and speak with him after we’re finished interviewing you. But I’m curious as to why you didn’t tell the police that Mr. Reyes was the one who discovered the bodies?”

“I guess I just didn’t realize it was important. I apologize if I’ve caused any confusion.”

Seward’s pale eyes gazed at Melanie steadily. There was nothing that odd in what he was saying. It hardly surprised her that someone like him would choose to pull strings rather than let the building custodian dial 911. He obviously felt 911 was for the little people. Still, she got a strange vibe from him.

“Do you know what time Mr. Reyes found the bodies?” she continued.

Seward drew a slim silver cigarette case from his jacket pocket and extracted a European-looking cigarette, lighting it with steady hands. He was neither uncooperative nor nervous, yet his pauses before answering were odd, as if he were buying time to think. Then again, give the guy a break. It was almost four in the morning, and his stepdaughter was dead.

“I wouldn’t want to speak for Luis. Best you ask him that,” Seward said finally.

“Your point is well taken, Mr. Seward. When did Mr. Reyes first call you, then?” Melanie asked.

“I’m not exactly sure when he first called,” Seward said, exhaling calmly. “It was loud at the benefit. I didn’t hear my phone ring. When my wife and I were leaving, I realized I had a voice-mail message. I listened to the message, then immediately called Luis back. That’s when he told me Whitney and Brianna were dead.”

“What time was that?”

“Quite late. Perhaps midnight.”

“What did you do next?”

“I rushed home, naturally.”

“At what point did you call the police?”

“Once I got home. I met Luis at the door, checked in Whitney’s room to see exactly what it was we were dealing with, and then I called the commissioner. From this very phone, in fact,” he said, nodding toward the telephone on his desk.

Melanie saw that Seward was watching her reaction carefully. He’s worried his behavior looks fishy, she thought.

“Is there a reason you didn’t call the police immediately? As soon as Mr. Reyes told you he’d found the bodies?”

Again Seward paused. “Ye-e-es,” he said slowly. “I knew I wanted to deal with this through my personal contacts, and I didn’t have the commissioner’s number with me. It’s unpublished, you see.”

“But weren’t you worried that the girls might have needed medical attention, that perhaps they were-”

“Still alive? No. If I’d felt that was a possibility, naturally I would have acted differently. But Luis made it quite clear they weren’t breathing. I felt there was nothing I could do except try to minimize the fallout from the situation for myself and my wife.”

“How long did it take you to drive uptown?” Melanie asked.

“ Holiday traffic was awful. All the tourists looking at the tree. It took half an hour at least.”

“You waited over half an hour after hearing that Whitney and Brianna were dead before you called the police?”

Seward sighed. “To an outside observer, I understand that might seem cold. But put yourself in my shoes. I knew the second the press heard about this, they’d descend on us like a plague of locusts, and I was right. You saw what it was like downstairs, didn’t you? My wife is a very fragile woman, and she’d just learned of her daughter’s death. I couldn’t subject her to a horde of flashbulbs in front of the building, especially not when it was my political career bringing them to our doorstep. So I did what I had to do to ensure our privacy. I knew the girls were already dead, so I didn’t think it would matter. Please. Try to understand.”

Melanie’s instincts were clanging like a fire alarm. She realized she suspected Seward of something. But what? When she thought about it, there was nothing here. Anything strange James Seward had done, he’d just told her about himself and provided a perfectly plausible explanation. Like most people, Melanie distrusted rich, arrogant politicians. She’d better be careful not to let that personal prejudice color her judgment.

“Look,” Seward continued, reading the ambivalence in Melanie’s expression, “I may not have done things perfectly, but I’m in a very difficult position. I’m trying to be as cooperative as possible. In fact, if we’re finished with the preliminaries, I’d like to tell you where Whitney and Brianna got the drugs that killed them.”

“You know?” she asked. Ray-Ray looked at her in astonishment.

“I can’t know definitively, since I wasn’t there. But I have my suspicions,” Seward said.

“Please, by all means, tell us what you think,” Melanie said.

“Carmen Reyes, the super’s daughter, is-or I should say was-a classmate of Whitney’s at Holbrooke. She got in on a College Bound Kids scholarship. I had a hand in arranging that, and now I’m kicking myself. Because Carmen was here right before Whitney and Brianna died. The whole reason Luis used his passkey to get in is that Carmen hadn’t come home when she was supposed to, and he was looking for her.”

“You believe that Carmen Reyes gave Whitney the drugs, Mr. Seward?”

“Yes, it’s obvious, isn’t it? Carmen was here earlier tonight, right before this happened, and now she’s gone. Disappeared.”

“She hasn’t returned home?”

“That’s correct. And it’s…what? After four o’clock in the morning?”

“So you think Carmen-”

“Of course. She gave them the heroin, then she saw the terrible results of her actions, and she ran away. Carmen Reyes is the answer to this whole thing.”