did more than watch. He participated in the attack. Which probably meant he was the one who drank the blood.
Albert had told them that Catherine almost always wore the silver necklace. That indicated the person who put the necklace on her was the one familiar with the victim. He’d seen it was missing, went to look for it, and put it on her.
She kept sorting the list, occasionally glancing at the photos, trying to see any indications to support her deductions. Finally she had two smaller lists.
Alpha—Victim choice, plan, rape and murder, trophy
Beta—Familiarity with victim, blood consumption, covering victim, necklace
What about the bloody footprints? Checking the case report, she found there were multiple size 9 bloody footprints in the bedroom, from which beta had probably taken the necklace. Okay, the majority of the bloody footprints belonged to beta as well. He was the one who blundered into the bloodstain, who paced around the body multiple times.
One partial print of the other shoe size had been found in the entire apartment. Alpha had noticed that he’d stepped in the victim’s blood and wiped his shoe sole. Careful, calm, mindful of the traces he left behind. Alpha had probably done this before. Beta was a first timer.
Her stomach rumbled noisily. She was starving. She paused the music and took off her earphones.
“Hey,” she called to the adjacent cubicle. “Are you still hungry?”
“Must . . . eat,” Tatum rasped, sounding like a parched man in the desert.
Zoe rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. But let’s find somewhere nice. I need a change of scenery.”
CHAPTER 9
The belly of a man was a fickle thing.
There was quite a long culinary negotiation, and Tatum had to admit it was mostly his fault. He had a sudden craving for a burger joint and shot down several of Zoe’s suggestions, none of which included burgers. Then, annoyed, she demanded that he decide, and suddenly he didn’t want a burger anymore.
They ended up in a place named Niko’s Taverna, which got a nice rating on Yelp, including one five-star review that said, Got engaged here to my sweet Tony, who is the love of my life!!!!!!! The souvlaki was good.
The place was crowded, but they had a free table for two at the far corner, and the window faced the bustling street. It was noisy inside, the sound of dozens of people talking, clanking kitchen utensils, and the background music of a cheerful bouzouki-played tune from overhead speakers.
Their waiter was a chubby man with gray hair, a thick mustache, and a wide grin. He suggested they try the “Niko couple special,” which was an assortment of small dishes, enough for two people. Despite not being a couple, they quickly agreed it sounded perfect and ordered it. Tatum also ordered a glass of ouzo for himself.
Zoe shook her head. They remained silent for a while. The music played on. At a nearby table, a woman laughed, way too loud, sounding a bit like a hyena. On the other side of the restaurant, a group sang “Happy Birthday,” the song clashing with the music. Tatum hoped the food would be worth it.
“How’s Marvin?” Zoe asked.
Tatum sighed. His grandfather had sent him a cryptic text an hour before. Do we have a hacksaw? Though Tatum did have one, he responded reflexively that they didn’t, only to get a second text—Liar, I found it. Feeling that mild panic that always accompanied interactions with his grandfather, he asked carefully what Marvin was doing with a hacksaw. His grandfather didn’t reply, nor did he answer Tatum’s three phone calls. Tatum still debated with himself whether to ask the neighbor to make sure Marvin hadn’t sawed off his own hand by mistake.
“He’s fine,” he said. “Keeping himself busy. He has a smutty book club that meets twice a week, mostly in my apartment. Him and about a dozen women. He’s also trying to learn to play the harmonica, which I suspect he’s doing to scare the cat. Oh, and he’s practicing tai chi.”
“Tai chi is a good idea,” Zoe said. “It’s really good exercise, and it’s very meditative.”
“Not the way he does it,” Tatum muttered. Marvin did tai chi as if he were Bruce Lee fighting a hoard of nunchaku-wielding villains. “Did you ever do tai chi?”
“No, but Andrea had a phase. She did it every morning for a whole year.”
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s fine. My mom is probably driving her insane.”