“As do I,” O’Connor confirmed. “A sweet girl. And, I think, browbeaten.”
“John.”
“Lucy,” he returned, in the same exasperated tone. “You asked if anyone disliked him particularly. I did. Very much disliked him. He was cold, arrogant, egotistical. Some would say a perfectionist, a fine trait in a surgeon. I’d say overbearingly demanding of perfection. There’s a difference.”
“Yeah, there is. I appreciate your candor. Did he have any altercations with colleagues, staff, patients?”
“Altercations, yes. Incidents, no,” Lake said firmly. “We work in stress, in life and death, every day. Altercations happen. I’ve fielded complaints, formal and informal, regarding Anthony’s behavior, his treatment of other doctors, interns, nurses, orderlies. I’ve done the same for any number of doctors on staff.”
Eve changed tack. “You say most like Mrs. Strazza. Could anyone you know have misconstrued her kindness, wanted more from her?”
“An affair?” Lake’s eyebrows winged up. “Absolutely not. Believe me, that’s the sort of thing that runs through the hospital grapevine like wine. I’d have heard.”
“Let’s go back to the party. Was there any trouble? Any arguments? Any sort of tension?”
“No. It was a lovely evening.”
“Do you know who catered it?”
“Mmm.” Lake frowned. “I imagine Jacko’s. I asked Daphne last year who she used, as the company I’d used for years changed management—and wasn’t working out well. It was Jacko’s, and I recognized a couple of the servers, as we’ve used Jacko’s a few times since.”
Peabody came back. Eve caught the signal, wrapped it up. “We appreciate the time,” she said as she got to her feet. “If you think of anything else, please contact me.”
Lake rose. “Please let me know how—when—we can make arrangements for Anthony. Daphne may need help in that area. We weren’t friends, but I was his chief.”
“Understood, but his parents are coming in, so—”
“His parents.” Lake’s brows drew together. “I was under the impression they’d cut him off, wanted nothing to do with him.”
“That wasn’t the impression I got when I notified them. Where did you get yours?”
“I— Anthony said as much to me. That when he refused to kowtow to their every wish and whim, they stopped speaking to him.”
Interesting, Eve thought. “What about his ex-wife?”
“I didn’t know her very well. She was distant, and I’d say on the brittle side. She— He said she’d tried to clean out their accounts, and had had one too many affairs. She ran off to Europe, I think.
“I can’t verify any of that,” Lake said quickly. “I don’t interfere with the personal lives of my people unless it overlaps the work. But Anthony was up-front about the divorce, took a month’s leave to sort things out. I don’t see how that could apply.”
“Information’s information. Thanks again.”
Peabody waited until they were back in the car. “They got home at eleven-thirteen. Locks engaged. No activity until Alice arrived at seven sharp. She adores them, by the way. I prodded some. She’s family—that’s how they think of each other. She’s been with them nearly thirty years. Her impressions of Strazza aren’t as warm and fuzzy. Can’t say she knows him, but he’s been around for parties and such. Likes people to stay in their place—or his idea of their place, according to Alice. No chitchat with staff. You don’t suspect them.”
“I don’t see O’Connor sneaking out of his house, sneaking back into theirs, laying into the wife—you can see he’s soft on her. Like paternally. Can’t see him killing Strazza and walking around taking goodies. But they gave me a picture. We’re swinging by the hospital first. I guarantee the two doctors won’t be far behind us.”
“What’s the picture?”
“Strazza was an asshole, disliked if respected. And very likely a big, fat liar. Claimed his parents cut him off, which I don’t buy. And his ex-wife had one too many affairs. A guy like Strazza? It would only take one. We’re going to want to talk to the ex, and the parents. Get some finer details on the picture.”
“I hate when the vic’s an asshole.”
“Happens.”
“Yeah, happens. And it widens the suspect pool.”
“It can. Caterer was likely Jacko’s. Check on that, and get us a list of who worked the party.”
“Can do.” Peabody pulled out her ’link as Eve drove to the hospital.
Two cups of coffee helped, but Eve wondered if she could just get a shot of straight caffeine. It was a hospital, after all. She hated shots, but she’d suffer through it for a good, strong jolt.
She badged her way to the ER desk, and after some dithering got the section and floor where Daphne Strazza had been relocated. Worked her way there, to that desk, badged again.
Yeah, she’d take the shot.
“I have to contact Dr. Nobel,” the nurse told her.
“Fine by me, but we’re going to her room now. Which way, or I’ll just swagger around with my badge and weapon until I find the uniform on her door.”
“Down this corridor and to the right. She’s in 523.”
“Got it.”