“No,” Kylie said.
“He’s been injecting himself with insulin since he was eleven. But on January nineteenth of this year, he somehow wound up with a massive overdose. Brooke was conveniently out of the house when it happened, but luckily for Curtis, he was on the phone setting up a tennis date with a friend just before he passed out. The friend heard him fall, called 911, and for the next three days Curtis was touch and go in a diabetic coma at Columbia Presbyterian.”
“And you think Brooke was responsible for the overdose,” Kylie said.
“Somebody fucked with Curtis’s insulin, and she was the only one who had access. She failed the first time, but she’s not the type to give up. She’s too smart to try the same thing twice, and she has more than enough money to hire a professional to do the job right. In fact, I’ll bet she hiredtwoprofessionals and had both Warren and Curtis whacked.”
Brooke had been at the top of our suspect list, but the PC had directed us to tread lightly unless we had concrete evidence. Megan reinforced what we’d been thinking, and had just handed us a strong lead we could follow.
“This is a big help,” I said. “I’m glad you called. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. And all I want in return is first dibs when you break this case. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough,” I said.
“One question,” Kylie said. “If Curtis Hellman had thisnear-deathexperience, how come nobody ever reported on it—including you?”
“It was a closely guarded family secret, and at the time I couldn’t get my hands on his hospital records to verify it. But now that you’re investigating his murder, I’m sure you can.”
“How did you even know about it?” Kylie said.
She gave us a seductive smile. “Let’s just say a reliable source told me.”
“Megan,” Kylie said, “you’re asking us for quid pro quo. There are God knows how many reporters in New York, all of whom want to be at the top of our list. You’re going to have to give us a lot more than ‘reliable source.’”
Megan weighed her options. “Fine,” she said. “Warren told me.”
“Just like that?” Kylie said. “Warren Hellman told you? Why?”
“It’s that old devil quid pro quo, Detective. I slept with the fucker.”
CHAPTER 14
“Refresh my memory,” Kyliesaid as soon as we were back in the car. “When we interviewed Brooke Hellman earlier today, did she mention anything about trying to murder her husband back in January?”
“Let me check my notes,” I said, flipping open an imaginary notepad. “Let’s see... Curtis was an angel, he helped so many people, everybody loved him... Nothing about his loving wife trying to whack him.”
“It could have slipped her mind. Get Selma Kaplan on the phone and ask her to find out if Brooke Hellman has been cutting checks to any contract killers lately.”
“You know she’s going to push back,” I said, dialing Selma’s mobile and putting the call on speaker.
“They all push back—the DA, the PC, the mayor. But isn’t it comforting to know that if anything happens to you and me there are so many people in the system who can do our jobs better than we can?”
Selma picked up on the first ring.
“It’s Zach and Kylie,” I said. “We need you to do a deep dive on Brooke Hellman’s financial records for us.”
“I’ll get right on it,” she said. “As soon as I’m ready to cut my career short.”
“Selma,” Kylie said. “We know Brooke has got a hot line to Gracie Mansion, but we have reliable information that says she may have financed both hits to gain control of the entire Hellman empire.”
“How reliable?”
“Reliable enough that Zach and I are willing to put our asses on the line.”
“Your asses are your business. I’m trying to protect mine,” Selma said. “Have you met my boss? He’s a professional politician. He gets real cranky when people don’t vote for him, and guess who gets the brunt of it?”
“Tell your boss that on January nineteenth, Curtis Hellman had anear-deathexperience,” Kylie said. “An overdose of insulin. A friend called 911, and they took him to Columbia Presbyterian. The details are sketchy, but it sounds more like attempted homicide than aself-inflictedwound.”