Page 73 of Little Dark Deeds
“Yes, yes.We know all this, though.”
“I’m not finished.It’s possible Queenie, while in Tiffany’s home, found a clue of some kind.Then she started talking to those she believed capable of the murder.The killer, worried they’re about to be caught, decides to shut her up for good.Then they trash her house looking for ...who knows what.”I paused, then added, “Well?What do you think?Sounds reasonable to me.”
Foley hooked his thumbs into his belt loops.“It’s a theory.As for the last part, not sure it’s right.”
“Not sure it’s wrong, either,” Whitlock said.
Foley jerked back and, in a teasing tone said, “Taking her side, are we?”
“It’s not about sides.It’s about how often her theories are correct.”
Foley wagged a finger in his direction.“Until it’s proven, it’s just a theory.”
I’d prove it no matter how many hours I had to spend rifling through Queenie’s house.If something was here, a clue leading us to the killer, I had to find it.
“I think we should give Ron a call to see if he remembers seeing anything out of place inside the home that day.”
“Good idea,” Whitlock said.“I’ll do it.”
“I’d like to pitch in and help you gather evidence, see what we can find around here,” I said.“I’m here.May as well let me join in.”
“Given the condition of this place, we could use all the help we can get,” Whitlock said.“And you, of all people, knows she has an exceptional eye for finding clues.”
Foley looked at me, then at Whitlock, then around Queenie’s place.“Oh, I suppose it’s all right.If you find anything good, bring it straight to me.Am I clear?”
“Clear as a foggy mirror,” I said, smacking him on the shoulder.“I’m kidding, of course.And hey, thanks for letting me stay.”
“Hard to know where to start in all this mess,” Foley said.
“Before I get started, Silas arrived several minutes ago, and I’d like to speak to him.”
“Sure, he’s in the back bedroom.Talk to him, and then we’ll see whattheoriesyou come up with next.”
He laughed when he said it, though I detected a hint of sarcasm.
We parted ways, and I headed toward Queenie’s room, finding Silas crouched over her body when I entered.Her room was in shambles, much like the rest of the house.
Queenie was lying on the bed, face up, dressed in a pastel blouse and a pair of loose cargo pants.Her hands were at her sides.There was a fair amount of blood, but it didn’t come close to what I’d witnessed in Tiffany’s bathroom.
“What’s this theory I’m hearing you all talking about out there?”Silas asked.
“Queenie was inside Tiffany’s house after she was murdered,beforethe police arrived.At first, it seemed strange to me that Tiffany’s house wasn’t tossed like Queenie’s.But Queenie was running her own investigation into Tiffany’s murder.Put two and two together and ...”
“She put a target on her back.”
“A big one.I think her killer was here, looking for something.”
“Could be.”
I shifted my gaze to the stab wound on Queenie’s chest.“Have you noticed any similarities between the two murders, anything to suggest we’re looking at the same killer?”
“Some similar, some not so similar.”He pointed out the chest wound, adding, “Based on the angle in which Tiffany was stabbed, it suggests the killer is right-handed.I see a similar angle in the way Queenie was stabbed.But there’s one big difference.”
“What is it?”
“Queenie got a knife straight to the heart—one and done.Tiffany was stabbed multiple times.”
I considered what might have set the two murders apart.“Tiffany’s murder may have been a crime of passion, someone working out anger and rage, whereas Queenie’s could have been carried out of sheer necessity.What can you tell me about the knife sticking out of her chest?”
