I slowly looked toward the front seat. Brigg was watching me in the rearview mirror again. She had driven too far east and was several blocks the wrong direction from Calvin. “Brigg,” I said, trying to hide the concern creeping into my voice. “You’re going the wrong way.”
She didn’t reply.
“You’re heading straight for the East River—”
River?
Dead fish can’t swim.
“Taxidermy,” Brigg said, as if I’d asked a question. “Taxidermy fish was the third prize.” She looked back into the mirror. “But that’ll be hard to award you, since even a sleuth as decent as you can’t solve his own murder.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE ONEtime I was more than happy to call Calvin, and I was without the means.
“You’re pretty smart,” Brigg continued. “I saw that in December. I heard what you’d done to help solve the Nevermore case. You’re pretty crazy, aren’t you?”
I tried to swallow, but my mouth was too dry. “Takes one to know one.”
She seemed amused. “When I decided to do what I did, I knew I needed someone to care. Really care. You didn’t disappoint.”
“Do what you did?” I repeated. “You mean murder innocent people?”
“They weren’t innocent,” Brigg said in a low tone. “Murderers themselves.”
I shook my head. “I don’t get it. You organized this entire charade for what?”
“For you.” Brigg smiled into the mirror. “Because I knew you’d care.”
“Luther and Ben weren’t murderers,” I exclaimed. “Why threaten to throw them in jail if they didn’t help?”
“Liars and thieves. It was only a matter of time before either of those low-lives escalated.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I swore.
So it wasn’t Neil.
Oh God.
I’d nearlyruinedhis life. But the evidence against him—knowing the layout of my shop, a male cop identified by Ben, knowing about my habits, my home….
“I am a little surprised you didn’t put two and two together sooner,” Brigg said. “I showed up everywhere. I thought you’d notice that.”
“I—I did,” I managed to say. “But I thought….”
“Who did you think it was?”
“The guy I was arguing with outside my shop.”
“He does look an awful lot like Lowry, doesn’t he? That was sheer luck,” Brigg said with a small smile. She made another turn, driving at a leisurely pace toward the East River. The snow had turned to a heavy rain, and the day had darkened considerably.
“What was the point of all this?”
“What did you think?” she countered.
“I don’t…. You wanted me to prove guilt.”
“Yes. The system sure as hell isn’t. Murderers and rapists are let loose every day because of a shaky alibi or mishandled evidence.”
