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“What did you think of Mrs. Counsel?”
“She took care of us.”
“Did you talk to her last night?”
“I cleared the dinner dishes for her and the mayor.”
“Did she speak to you?”
“No.”
“How did she and the mayor seem?”
Awkward shrug. “It is my job to clear the dishes.”
Was it D.D.’s imagination, or did the cook’s posture just relax?
“After clearing the dishes, what did you do?”
“I went to bed.”
“Did you hear anything?”
“Just... sirens. After four. I came upstairs. The mayor. He was very upset. He was... he was crying.”
D.D. nodded slowly. So the mayor was genuinely distraught over the loss of his wife.
D.D. switched her attention to Bonita. “Did you see Mrs. Counsel last night?”
“She can’t talk!” the cook exploded.
“She can indicate yes or no.”
“She’s stupid—”
“You will shut up or I will remove you from this room!” Kimberly clipped out sharply.
The cook thinned her lips mutinously, but fell silent.
“Bonita, did you see Mrs. Counsel last night?”
A faint nod.
“After dinner?”
Head shake.
“She took them dinner,” Hélène volunteered. “She serves, I clear.”
Another nod.
“Did you hear anything in the middle of the night?”
Bonita hesitated. She shook her head no, but at her side, her hand stirred. One finger, meaning yes. Hélène jolted slightly, as if realizing for the first time something might be going on. The older maid quickly glanced away.
“Did you hear any sounds of arguing?”
Another head shake. Finger nod.
