Michael took a sip of coffee and waited for Toni to answer. He could understand how she had eventually found success as an actress and why Landis had come on to her. She was very attractive and had the kind of figure that would catch a man’s eye and hold it.
She spoke in a firm voice. “We drove to a downtown building and took the elevator to the fourth floor. We had to use that office because the furnishings gave it a very Victorian look, but I don’t remember what happened after we entered.”
He spent a few moments thinking about what she’d said. As if uncomfortable, she rose from the chair and walked around the room. She paused at the jade vase on a pedestal—a souvenir he’d picked up in Thailand. Her fingers ran lightly across the spines of the legal books occupying the shelves. Next, she turned to the cluster of family pictures that sat on the corner of a credenza. Some taken abroad. Moscow’s St. Basil’s Cathedral in one shot, the British Parliament in another.
Returning his attention to the situation at hand, he tilted his chair back, rested his elbows on its arms and braced a pencil between his palms. “What do you know about Landis’s partner?”
Toni returned to her chair. “Ted Flax? I met him twice, and then only briefly, once when Craig showed me their studio. He seemed more the quiet type. He filled in for Craig a few times, taking stills on the set of the show. He does mostly society work. Portraits, and room layouts for House Beautiful and Architectural Quarterly, that type of upscale magazine.”
She sipped her coffee. “In addition, both he and Craig did publicity stills for movies and television shows that are filmed here in New York.”
Michael voiced another thought. “Maybe Flax thought he was getting cheated somehow in the partnership. Money and greed are even more common motives for murder than jealousy.”
Toni grimaced. “I know. I work in television.”
He laughed briefly, then made another note on the yellow legal pad on his desk.
“Assuming for a moment the wife, Suzanne, isn’t a suspect, do you know of any possible enemies Landis might have had?”
“I never heard of any.”
“Then you weren’t aware he was responsible for a bank robber named Victor Marino being sent to jail?”
“Really? Yet, if the man is in jail—”
“He was released recently. After I talked to Nathan, I had my investigator do some cursory research. Did I already mention that revenge is another powerful motive?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll have him continue to check on Marino. I’m sure the police will, if they haven’t already.”
“That’s good news. This Marino makes a more plausible suspect than I do.”
“There’s one other thing. I think you ought to know your ordeal over Landis’s death may be far from over.”
“I’m aware of that. If someone is arrested for his murder, I might have to identify him or testify at his trial.”
“There’s more.” He gave her a serious look. “What if your memory returns? If you actually saw the killer, and he knows you did, you may be in jeopardy.”
Her eyes widened, and her fingers tightened around the coffee mug.
“I see what you mean.”
“You should consider not going out alone until the case is solved. I can arrange for a bodyguard temporarily.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think that’s necessary.” She made a sound like a groan. “I can only imagine Leo’s reaction if I showed up on the set with a bodyguard. He’d fire me at once.”
“Are you sure? You seemed upset when you came in.”
“I’m sorry if I worried you. I’ve done a lot of thinking today, and since it’s been almost twenty-four hours since it happened, time has dulled what few events I can remember.”
She touched her forehead briefly. “To begin with, I might not have been in that office when Craig was shot.”
“I thought the police found you there.”
“They found me in the hallway. I’ve been reading the newspaper accounts. It says a cleaning woman called in the report of hearing shots, and a squad car responded quickly.”
“So—?”
“When the police arrived, I was in the hallway, not in the office where Craig was killed.”
“Yet, there was blood on the dress you were wearing. How did it get there?”
“I don’t remember, but the point is the blood-stained dress wasn’t mentioned in the newspapers. The detective told me, and I’m telling you, but it’s not common knowledge.”
“Do you think that will protect you?”
“Unless the killer actually saw me looking at him as he fired the gun, he can’t possibly know if I saw him do it. I think I’d certainly remember a thing like that.” She paused to clear her throat. “If I’d seen him and told the police, they’d probably have arrested him by now.”
“However, as a result of the fall you took when you banged your head, you lost your memory.”
“No one knows I have amnesia either. The paper didn’t report it, only that I was in the building, had fallen, and was taken to the hospital. Then the police questioned me and let me go.”
“Are you prepared for another onslaught of reporters? This is still news and might be for days.”
“I suspect the piece of film you showed me in your office had a lot to do with their showing up.”
“As the star of a popular soap opera, you’re a celebrity.”
Toni raised a hand. “I’m not the star. I’m not in every episode, far from it. I have a very small part, although lately the writers have expanded it.”
“Well, then.”
“It’s a temporary thing. Villains in soap operas come and go. One season it’s this person, the next season it’s someone else.” She set her coffee cup down. “Unless, of course, the story-line for the character changes.”
“Changes how?”
“Well, for example, if Alexandra were to be found not guilty of what the family thinks about her. Or if she were to marry one of the eligible men. It would give me a longer run on the show.”
“That would be good news, anyway.” He pushed his coffee cup aside and stood. “I’ll put my investigator on this. In the meantime, leave your address and cellphone number with Peggy, plus a number for you on the set of Beekman Place.”
“The police confiscated my cellphone. First chance, I’ll replace it.”
He took a business card out of his pocket, “I’m glad you’re handling this situation so well, but I want you to stay in close touch with me, report anything you remember, no matter how trivial it seems.”
He scrawled a number on the back of the card and gave it to her. “I’m giving you my cellphone number as well.”
She studied the number for a moment and tucked the card in her purse. “I hope you’re right, and the police will realize I had nothing to do with Craig’s death.”
“We’ll convince them.” He tried to sound reassuring. “If you’re charged with anything, contact my office immediately.”
“I will.” Toni got to her feet. “Thank you, Mr. Benedict.”
“Please call me Michael. I hope I may call you Toni. Or do you prefer Antoinette?”
“It’s actually Antonia, but I never use it.”
She turned, left her name and numbers with Benedict’s secretary, and left the building.
Michael returned to his desk and reread his notes. He’d never seen Toni Abbott in her role of Alexandra Bradshaw. However, as an avid reader of newspapers and news magazines, he was aware of the names of a few soap operas, one of which was Beekman Place, even before its current notoriety.
Toni Abbott, on the other hand, had never entered his life before, either literally or through the media. He took Nathan’s word for it that she was a good actress and might someday be well-known. That, however, was not what interested him about her. She professed she led a quiet life, and he believed her. She also said she hadn’t killed Craig Landis. He believed that, too. During fourteen years of practicing law, he’d developed a sixth sense as to whether or not a client was telling the truth.
He also detected something else. She was a loner, liked to keep control and do things for herself. Probably learned it as a child. She hadn’t wanted a bodyguard, and he sensed she didn’t trust many people. His thoughts switched to the night of the murder. Had she seen the killer? Was that image hidden in her subconscious mind? When might it emerge and put her in danger?