Page 24 of The Dysfunctional Family's Guide to Murder
“You’re really putting yourself down as a suspect?”
“In the interest of fairness.”
“And me?”
“See above.”
“And your dad?”
There’s a moment where I could tell Dylan that Dad wasn’t in his bedroom that night, and I think about it. But, really, what am I saying—that he was briefly out of bed at some point? He was probably in the bathroom. Or getting a drink of water. He might even have been smoking in the garden, if he’s been keeping a secret nicotine addiction from me. Regardless of the fact that I dutifully thumbed his name into my phone, IknowDad could never have hurt GG, just as surely as Iknowthat I didn’t do it. I don’tthinkDylan did it, just like I don’t think Aunty Vinka, Aunty Bec, or even Nick or Shippy did it, but it’s not the same.
“In the interest of fairness.”
“Statistically, it’s most likely to be a man,” Dylan says.
“Only one of those has mysteriously disappeared in the night.”
“So…Shippy?” Dylan doesn’t look as troubled by the idea that his mum’s boyfriend might have murdered someone as you’d think.
“The thing nobody seems to have thought of yet is that Shippy is just as likely to have become the murderer’s latest victim as to be the murderer himself.”
“You think Shippy’s dead?” Again, Dylan’s face doesn’t reflect great shock or alarm at this idea.
“When people go missing in books and movies, they usually wind up dead. That’s how the police know they’re dealing with a serial killer. This is a classic act-two second murder.”
“You are aware this is real life, Ruth?”
“Even in real life people do sometimes get killed. Like in this house, for example. Plus, I know Shippy is Shippy, but is he murderer material? Sexual-harassment scandal, absolutely. Light embezzlement? Aggressively on-brand. Murder? I don’t know.”
“What islightembezzlement, exactly?” Dylan asks, looking like he’s thinking about smiling. I ignore him.
“Let’s think about this logically.” I take back my phone. “What are the established facts?”
“We’re really going to Miss Marple this?”
“And you pretend you’re not a Christie fan.”
“Christie who?”
“The established facts of the night,” I continue. “GG was murdered on Sunday night. She was wealthy.”
“Rich,” Dylan corrects me.
“What’s the difference?”
“Rich people don’t talk about money.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“Whatever,” Dylan says. “She had money.”
“And our parents will inherit it.”
“And Vinka.”
“And Shippy. What’s your point?”
“There might be other things going on. If Gertie had money outside this place or if she borrowed against it, someone else might have had a motive we don’t know about.”
