Page 23 of The Six Murders of Daphne St Clair

She was probably nervous. She knows everyone is listening to this podcast, including people she knows. What’s the right way to react to finding out your mother is a murderer?

PreyAllDay:

Remorse. Concern for the victims, some of whom she would have known.

ShockAndBlah:

Maybe she didn’t like a lot of them. And why should she be remorseful? She didn’t do anything.

HauteHistoire:“Hi, guys, today’s TikTok episode is devoted to Daphne’s twin daughters, who are an aesthetic all on their own! Now, in the media, twins get a bad rap. ThinkThe Shining. ThinkDead Ringers. Think Patty and Selma fromThe Simpsons. And there is something a little creepy about the St Clair twins. They’re often photographed together at events, they dress so similarly that they always seem to be matching even if they’re in different colors, and you justknowthey’re getting plastic surgery together because that’s the only way they’d stay so identical! So yes, they are the kind of twins that might haunt your dreams. . . and they’ve got Freddy Krueger for a mother! But let’s not forget that twins can be chic, and fashion owes a debt to the iconic Mary-Kate and Ashley.

“So, we know the twins love labels. One quick Google and you’ll be blinded by the Versace, Gucci, Pucci. If it’s got a soft c and a big price tag, they’re wearing it. I’ve opted for a vintage Gucci silk shirt, a Prada headband and some tight, patterned Versace shorts. Finish with heels and you’ve got the perfect look for shopping, chilling at the club bar in Palm Beach or visiting your mother in a federal prison.”

Things were finally changing for Ruth. The podcast was a hit, and money was starting to trickle in. It was on this newfound high that she agreed to go to a party with her best friend Chelsea, who was home for a visit from New York. Usually, Ruth would have refused to attend a party full of their old college friends, painfully aware that she was a cautionary tale of the successful student who had failed to launch. And of course they would have heard the rumors about her. Everyone did. But this time she had the podcast and half a bottle of prosecco in her stomach, so why not? As they got ready, Ruth thought of Daphne and chose a clingy miniskirt and plum lipstick. It was a far cry from her usual slogan tees and outdated skinny jeans (was her favorite pair really from Costco? Christ) but she couldn’t deny that the look suited her tall frame.

Chelsea was still doing her makeup (when had everyone but Ruth learned to contour?) so Ruth sat on the couch and pulled out her phone.

Two more missed calls from her mom. Fuck. But this time she’d left a voicemail. There was her mother’s voice, but much more strained and anxious than usual, as if she only had a moment to talk and she desperately wanted Ruth to hear her.

“Ruth, you have to stop this podcast. The things you’re saying. . . this isdangerous. Stop this now, before something happens.”

Ruth put the phone down and took a gulp of prosecco. Her mother sounded so anxious and afraid, and that made Ruth’s mood sink. Ruth knew that Parkinson’s could make people paranoid, that it could also intensify personality traits and stop them filtering themselves. But Ruth also knew that her mother had some very good reasons to warn her off this podcast, even if she was determined to continue.

Besides, Louise might not want to admit it, but they needed money. In a few years, Louise might need healthcare attendants and specialist treatment, stairlifts and walk-in baths, and Ruth would need a way to help pay for it. It occurred to Ruth that she could see why someone might kill for money. Whyshemight kill for money.

Ruth drained the glass of prosecco and deleted the phone message. Hopefully Louise would understand once the podcast was finished. Besides, this wasn’t a good time to think about dark things. She had a party to go to.

As soon as Ruth walked in, she felt the full force of the party’s attention find her.

“Ruth, I love the podcast! I thought to myself: yes, finally, this is the Ruth we’ve all been waiting for!”

“Ruth, how did we lose touch? It’s been too long! What’s Daphne really like? And why did she call the cops up and confess? Was someone on to her?”

“Have you interviewed the police? I remember you got into some trouble with them a while back. Is this triggering for you?”

It hadn’t really hit her yet how many people listened to the podcast. But here were the people she knew from college, all suddenly fascinated by her work. It was a bit disarming because while she did count some of these people as genuine friends, many of the others hadn’t bothered to keep in touch once Ruth’s life became a depressing vortex of money problems, anxiety, and personal tragedies. But against all odds, Ruth, the grade grind from college with generic sneakers and a whopping student debt, had pulled it off.

Ruth downed a couple of tequila sodas and tried to channel Daphne, the confident femme fatale on the prowl for a victim. She felt a new kind of power surge through her as she talked to people, aware that everyone now saw her as different and exciting. A few of them even saw her as something more: enticing.

The thought made her body ache as she considered how long it had been since she’d had fun with someone, shorn from the complexities of a long-term relationship. How long had it been since she’d gone out into the night, ready to make some deliciously bad decisions?

She didn’t go home alone that night.

The Second Murder

Chapter Twelve

EPISODE THREE: 1952

DAPHNE:The story will really pick up now that I’ve gone to New York. Have you been there?

RUTH:Yeah, a few times.

DAPHNE:Don’t you love it? Wouldn’t you justkillto be a New Yorker?

RUTH:I don’t know. It just seems so expensive there. And cold. Honestly, I think some people use living in New York as a substitute for a personality.

DAPHNE (annoyed):Well, what would you know? You’re fromFlorida.

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