In the Shadow of Gotham - By Stefanie Pintoff Page 0,105

Cora Czerne, the victim’s friend. She showed up with some groceries and supplies after Mrs. Logan found Stella’s body. We questioned her briefly.” He shot me a pointed look. “She mentioned that she and Stella had been assisting you on a different case.”

I admitted it. “They were, but I am at as much of a loss as you at the moment. I was interviewing my most likely suspect in the Dobson murder when Stella was killed. Assuming both murders are connected,” I added lightly, “I find myself in need of a new prime suspect.”

Satisfied by my explanation, Roy turned to offer me the bloodstained pouch he had been holding.

“This is the most interesting thing we found at the scene,” he said. “It’s part of a whole set.” He showed me how to open the case to reveal a collection of barber’s shaving blades. I heard Tom’s sharp intake of air; it was just the sort of murder weapon we had theorized about that first day, when Alistair had been utterly convinced of Fromley’s guilt. Sarah’s throat had been slit, and her body slashed, with just such a sharp blade.

“And this paper was with it,” Roy continued, showing us a diagram that he had found on the ground, near the shaving blades.

“Step-by-step instructions for defiling a corpse,” Tom commented in amazement. “Look at this.” He showed it to me.

“This more or less mirrors the exact condition of Sarah Wingate’s corpse when we found it. You know Fromley’s handwriting. Is this it?” I asked. The script was in pencil, slanted to the right, written with heavy pressure that made dark lines.

He shook his head in amazement. “I’d say so; as you can see, his handwriting was quite distinctive. So the murderer was either given it by Fromley, or it somehow made its way into the wrong hands.”

“Who is this Fromley you are talking about?” Roy asked, exasperated. “Is he a suspect I should be aware of?”

“No,” Tom said. “He’s a dead man who nonetheless continues to play a key role in the case we are investigating.”

“But Stella was shot. These knives were never used?” I wanted to clarify that point.

Roy nodded affirmatively.

“I don’t understand it,” Tom said. “Fromley’s dead. Why would the killer continue to copycat a dead man?”

“But the killer may not be aware we know Fromley is dead,” I said, hazarding a theory. “It’s possible.” And it was, though I realized it was also unlikely. The real killer had always been a step ahead of us, showing he knew nearly as much as we did. “The diagram and the blades do suggest he intended to model Stella’s death after Sarah’s. But something happened to make him abandon that plan, so he settled for killing her fast.”

“The landlady, Mrs. Logan, was in the kitchen when he forced Stella down here. She must have been banging around with her pots and pans,” Roy said. “Maybe there were others around, too, and he couldn’t take the time.”

“I also suspect he didn’t intend to leave these notes and blades behind. He may have been startled by something or someone,” I said. “It’s positive proof for us. Without these, we would suspect the killings were connected given the remarkable coincidence—but we would not be positive.” I paused a moment. “What puzzles me is how the murderer ended up with Fromley’s written plans. It seems only two possibilities are plausible: He either stole the notes from Fromley himself, or he stole them from your case files at the research center.”

Tom raised his eyebrows. “I don’t recall ever having seen anything like this in Alistair’s case files.”

We spent another twenty minutes at the crime scene, gathering what information we could. The officers formally assigned to Stella’s case needed to complete their jobs. I thanked Roy for his help, and gave him instructions for how to contact me. A day or two more, I promised myself, and I would tell Roy all we knew about Stella.

As we made our way back uptown, Tom asked, “How did he—whoever he is—manage to find Stella? Didn’t you check to be sure no one was following you?”

I shook my head. “The park was quiet this morning. I saw no one except for Alistair, Stella, and Cora,” I said. “If we were followed, I missed it. But her killer had to be following us. How else would he have known we planned to meet Stella?”

“He’s keeping close tabs on us,” Tom said.

That was exactly what Alistair had warned me, the moment Fromley was