Page 159 of Dirty Grovel

“A detective and a cop, to be exact.”

Abandoning my coffee, I go to the foyer, where just as Pavin had said, two unwelcome guests are standing in the threshold of my entrance.

The cop, a morose-looking, middle-aged man with an impressive combover, is staring at the gilded sconces with interest.

The detective is not completely unfamiliar. I’ve met her a few times in passing. Our last run-in was at the station, weeks ago, when they brought Sydney in for questioning.

“Detective Cooper,” I greet. “What brings you here?”

She inclines her head. “I have some news you might be interested in, Mr. Pavlov. This is Sergeant Cornelius.”

I shake both their hands, albeit stiffly enough that they know they’re not entirely welcome. “Would you like to sit down or is this more of a ‘stand by the door’ kind of conversation?”

Detective Cooper glances behind me. “I think we’d better sit.”

My heart twinges uncomfortably. What the fuck is happening now? Why this? Why more?

Am I not dealing with enough bullshit already?

“Should I be worried?” I ask casually as I show both of them to the living room.

The detective takes one of the Hermes armchairs and the sergeant walks over to the French doors to admire the garden. I’m not stupid enough to miss what he’s really doing: standing guard.

“Areyou worried, Mr. Pavlov?” she replies, her eyebrow arched as though she’s trying to catch me in a lie.

“Is it about my future sister-in-law?”

“I suppose you could say that,” she agrees. “At least, insofar as her culpability is concerned.”

“I’m all ears, Detective.”

“Of course.” She clears her throat. “We launched an investigation into the victim, Drew Anton, considering the people he worked for.”

“And?”

“His fingerprints matched the prints found at your uncle’s residence on the night of the break-in. In addition, he had stolen several items from your uncle’s home and tried to sell them on the black market. Three items were definitively linked back to him.”

“You’re telling me Anton is the one who’s responsible for murdering my uncle?” I ask, phrasing my words carefully.

“Yes, Mr. Pavlov. That is exactly what I’m telling you.”

I have to work very hard to control myself from breaking into song. “I see. And as for my sister-in-law…?”

“Obviously, her crime will not be forgiven simply because her victim committed egregious crimes himself.”

“Of course.”

“But we’ve opened another investigation into the abuse claims she made against Drew Anton. We already have enoughevidence to suggest that Sydney Palmer was being used and abused by both Anton and her boyfriend, Paul Lipovsky.”

Stiffening, I lean forward. “What do you mean? What ‘evidence’?”

For the first time, Sergeant Cornelius strides forward from his post at the window. “Recordings and tapes that detail the abuse she suffered by both men. We issued a search warrant against Lipovsky’s home yesterday and it provided us with enough evidence to incriminate Anton and arrest Lipovsky.”

I feign ignorance. “And have you… arrested Lipovsky?”

“It seems the man made a run for it,” Detective Cooper informs me regretfully. “He must have sensed that his days were numbered. We’ve issued a warrant for his arrest that will go public in a day or two. Don’t worry, Mr. Pavlov—we’ll find him.”

I smile, nodding gratefully, all the while knowing that there isn’t a chance in hell that they will ever find Lipovsky.

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