In the Shadow of Gotham - By Stefanie Pintoff Page 0,115

Then you dumped his body in the Hudson River, and assumed you had successfully created the perfect scapegoat for the next crime you intended to commit: the murder of Sarah Wingate. Framing Fromley was easy; you knew so much about him. Taken together with the signed letter of confession, Fromley’s guilt would appear certain. Yes, you were remarkably smart in your planning. But I assume Fred takes all credit for that.”

“He certainly does not.” Horace contested the idea hotly.

“No?” I continued talking, moving ever so slightly closer to Horace. “Then tell me, which of you missed the obvious flaw in your planning? One of you didn’t foresee the risk that Mother Nature would wash Fromley’s corpse ashore so quickly. You probably counted upon him staying underwater the entire winter. By springtime, the body would be so thoroughly decomposed that even an expert autopsy would not be able to pinpoint his time of death.”

“Come now,” said Fred in protest. “The plan was a stroke of genius, undone only by the whim of nature and your own foolish persistence. Most detectives”—he emphasized the word—“would be pleased to wrap up a case so satisfactorily. After all, Fromley was scum of the earth. The world is a better place being rid of him.”

“Maybe so,” I said, agreeing, “but it wasn’t your call to make. And what about Sarah Wingate? And Stella Gibson? They certainly did not deserve to be killed.”

“Yes,” Fred said, “that was unfortunate. But the Wingate girl had become a problem, hadn’t she, Horace?”

I took a deep breath and moved yet another few steps closer. “Why, Horace? Why did you have to kill Sarah? Because I know you did. Fred doesn’t have the physical strength. And while Fred was happy to partake in the money, I’m not sure he was as motivated to kill for it. He doesn’t share your need—or your sheer desperation.”

Horace was seething with anger as he looked at me. His voice choked as he said, “She didn’t know it was me taking the money—not at first. Her coming to me was a gift, a stroke of good luck. She’d noticed the budget discrepancies. How signatures didn’t match. How funds requests were unsupported.” He circled the back of Isabella’s chair, drawing closer to me.

“Imagine,” he said, his face twisting at the irony, “she asked for my help. I agreed, said I would take care of it, talk it over with Alistair for her. I promised to see that the proper forms were submitted. But stubborn girl, she wouldn’t take my word for it. She kept checking into things. And to this day I don’t know how, but she managed to figure out that I was the one embezzling the money.” He gave an exaggerated sigh. “That’s when I realized I would only be safe—and free to continue as before—if I could make her go away. So I decided that, for once in his life, Michael Fromley might serve a useful purpose.”

“But when Fromley washed up dead, ahead of schedule,” Fred added, “Horace panicked, and has been making a mess of things ever since.”

I inched another step closer.

“And Stella was simply part of the mess?” I asked. “Is that how you saw it?”

“Isabella telephoned me this morning, asking troublesome questions. And she mentioned you were meeting Stella in the park. I went to find you there, and I overheard parts of your conversation,” he said. “I couldn’t take the risk that Stella might later remember something important.”

“I doubt she would have. She thought you were someone else,” I said lightly. “So you’ve shed blood this morning for nothing.” Another inch closer. “But it’s over now. And you have to let Isabella go. By holding her, you only make your situation worse.”

Horace laughed. “Nice effort, Ziele. But—” He put out his arm as if to halt me, and his voice was suddenly harsh and serious again. “Stop right where you are; don’t come even a single step closer.” He jabbed the gun into Isabella’s back, and we recoiled as she winced in pain.

“You won’t shoot her,” I said. “Or else you already would have done it.”

“Nonsense.” His face contorted into a sinister grin. “She’s alive only because I was unavoidably delayed when Fred first secured her down here in the crypt.” He brandished his gun. “Foolish girl. She went rummaging through my desk and found evidence of my large debts. From the moment she put two and two together, her fate was sealed. I’ll do whatever is necessary to stop all