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Eve nodded, pleased when the character confessed her lies and deceptions to Vole’s barrister “She kneas guilty She knew it, and she lied to save him Idiot He’ll brush himself off and dump her now You watch”

Eve turned her head at Roarke’s laugh “What’s so funny?”

“I have a feeling Dame Christie would have liked you”

“Who the hell is that? Ssh! Here he coloat”

Leonard Vole crossed the courtroo his acquittal and the slinky brunette on his ar surprise She felt both pity and frustration for Christine as she threw herself into Vole’s ar

She watched his arrogance, Christine’s shock and disbelief, Sir Wilfred’s anger It was no less, no more than she expected, however well played And then, she caht up out of her chair

“Son of a bitch!”

“Down girl” Delighted, Roarke dragged Eve back into her seat while onstage, Christine Vole plunged the knife she’d snatched from the evidence table into her husband’s black heart

“Son of a bitch,” Eve said again “I didn’t see it co She executed him”

Yes, Roarke thought Agatha Christie would have enjoyed his Eve Sir Wilfred echoed those precise words as people rushed out onstage to huddle over the body, to draw Christine Vole away

“Soain, Eve pushed to her feet, and now her blood was huht in both hands, her eyes riveted to the stage “Soet down there?”

“Eve, it’s a performance”

“So” She shoved the chair out of her way and strode out of the box just as Roarke noted one of the kneeling extras scramble to his feet and stare at the blood on his hand

He caught up with Eve, grabbed her arht down to backstage” He keyed in a code Froan to scream

“Is that part of the script?” Eve demanded as they stepped into the elevator