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“Someone with bad penmanship?” Kimberly shrugged. “Or too emotional to write?”
“I don’t like it.”
“I’m not exactly thrilled either. Which is why we’ll be having the medical examiner conduct a full inquest.”
D.D. looked around the room. “No sign of a struggle,” she murmured. “And not a mark on the body. I mean, silk noose aside.”
“And the inn’s guests are still asleep in their rooms. Which would seem to indicate no loud arguments or violent disturbances.”
“Look at her neck,” D.D. said, indicating toward the body. “You can see some bruising along the edges of the bathrobe tie, consistent with hanging.”
Kimberly nodded; she looked as conflicted as D.D.
A suicide felt too neat and tidy. And yet, a cursory exam of both the room and the body didn’t reveal anything obvious to counter the notion. Sometimes the simplest explanation was the right explanation. Detectives just didn’t like it.
“You ever walk in on a hanging where a loved one didn’t try to cut down the body?” Kimberly asked now.
“No. First instinct is always to get the person down. Then again...” D.D. indicated to Martha Counsel’s bloated purple face. “She’s clearly past saving.”
Kimberly nodded, pursed her lips, walked around the room again. “I don’t like it. But I have no good reason not to like it.”
“Agreed.”
“I wonder what she meant about being wrong to live at another’s expense.” D.D. shrugged.
“One way to find out. Come on, let’s deal with the husband.” Kimberly led the way back down the hall to the sunroom.
D.D. thought she caught a flash of movement. A person, disappearing down the hall, but it was too fleeting to be sure. She wondered again about Martha’s niece.
Was the mayor really the kind of guy to brew his own cup of coffee? Somehow, she doubted it.
Howard was still sitting at the table. The sheriff was positioned across from him. Neither man was talking.
“Is there someone we can call for you?” Kimberly asked, her voice surprisingly gentle considering her skeptical tone earlier.
The mayor looked up blearily. “She was my world,” he said.
D.D. walked behind him, brushing his shoulder. She thought she caught a whiff of whiskey, but couldn’t be sure. “Fresh coffee?” she asked.
He had to turn the other way to answer her, which gave Kimberly the chance to lean closer for her own inspection. Divide and conquer. Policing 101.
“I’m fine, thank you,” the mayor said. His voice sounded hollow, a faint shadow of the sure figure he’d been just the day before.
“More people will be arriving,” D.D. said calmly. “Officers, evidence techs, the coroner. It’s only a matter of time before your guests wake up and start asking questions, as well.”
“Evidence techs?” Howard echoed.
“Perhaps I could fetch your niece to help. Which room...”
The mayor finally roused himself. “No need. I just... there’s a button. Push the button.” He got up abruptly, crossed to the far wall, where D.D. now noticed a swinging door that probably led to the kitchen. There appeared to be a panel beside it, for summoning the hired help. The mayor pushed a black button. Then without saying another word, or awaiting a response, he returned to the table.
“Do you believe your wife killed herself?” Kimberly asked softly.
“She hasn’t... she hasn’t been herself. Not since.” The mayor swallowed heavily. He picked up his coffee cup. Once again, his hand trembled so violently he had to set it back down. “Not since the discovery, a month ago,” he whispered.
“The discovery of the first grave?” Kimberly clarified.
“Yes.”
