that she would even mention that she’d been drinking. And any physical evidence was now gone. He’d driven back to Portsmouth via back roads and pulled over at an abandoned gas station on the edge of a salt marsh. He’d thrown the baton, wiped clean of prints, out into the water, and he’d buried the jackknife and the stun gun, plus his hat and gloves and shoes, underneath a broken piece of asphalt where there had once been a parking lot. After that, he’d returned to his hotel room—no one had seen him—and he’d showered and gotten into bed, not even bothering to wake Mira.
The hardest part of the day had been trying to act surprised when they’d returned to their house on Sycamore Street and been confronted by two detectives with a search warrant for the premises.
“Matthew, can you think of anyone . . . Is there anyone you know who might want to mess with you?” Sanjiv asked.
It was a question that hadn’t been asked yet by either of the two detectives.
Matthew took a breath. “Actually, I think there is someone,” he said, and then proceeded to tell all about his neighbor and how he believed she had already sent a police detective from Cambridge to his house to investigate an old crime.
“Why do you think it’s her?” he asked.
“Well, it’s embarrassing, but I googled her, just because I was curious, new neighbor and all, and she has a history of accusing people of crimes they didn’t commit. So, it’s a possibility—ridiculous, I know—but for some reason I thought of her right away this afternoon when the police were there.”
“What’s her name?”
“Henrietta Mazur,” Matthew said.
“You need to tell the police everything you just told me. Exactly as you told it, okay?”
Matthew said, “Okay.”
He was released just before five o’clock. Mira drove him home, and as they passed Henrietta’s house, windows dark in the encroaching dusk, he craned his neck to see if he could see any signs of life.
“What are you looking at?” Mira asked.
“I want to see if our neighbors are home.”
“Why?”
“I think that Hen was the witness who said I was at that bar last night.”
“What?”
Back inside their home, after drinking a much-needed Diet Pepsi, Matthew told Mira about his suspicions.
“She came here,” Mira said.
“What do you mean?”
“I never told you because it was the day I flew out to Charlotte, but she dropped by the house and asked if she could have a tour again. Look at all the rooms.”
“What did you say?”
“What do you mean what did I say? I said sure. I was excited to see her.”
“So she went through all of our rooms?”
“Don’t get mad at me. It wasn’t like I left her alone in here. We walked through the rooms together just like we did at the dinner party.”
“Did she want to see my room?”
“What, our bedroom?”
“No. My office.”
“We measured the size of your desk because she told me she was thinking of getting one. It never even occurred to me . . .”
“I know. I’m not blaming you. I’m just still freaked out. I think she’s insane, Mira. I think she’s decided I’m a murderer and now she’s out to get me. She probably planted some kind of evidence here.”
Mira frowned. “I believe you, but I just don’t get it. Why you?”
“I think she made a connection between me and Dustin Miller. He was a former student from school who got killed a couple of years ago.”
“While at Sussex?”
“No, no. Many years later. I honestly don’t know that much about it, but the case is still open. And a police officer from Cambridge came out and talked with me about it.”
“When? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you. And you were away on your trip to Charlotte. It was nothing. At least I thought it was nothing.”
“And you think that Hen sent the cop to you?”
“I know she did.” Matthew didn’t want to mention the fencing trophy, knowing that it would look strange that he’d gotten rid of it. “I don’t think it’s personal. I think it’s just . . . a problem she has. Like a compulsion. She sees murderers where there aren’t any.”
“Well, not really, Matthew. There’s a real murderer. Someone killed that singer last night.”
“Right. I guess she just latches on to someone and begins to think that person’s guilty.”
“But why was she there? I mean, she witnessed the crime. That doesn’t sound odd to you?”