Page 29 of The Shadow Friends

“Meanwhile,” said Ingrid, “we wanted to discuss the matter of Karen O’Brien. Which is why you’re here, I assume? Were there any surprises at the autopsy?”

“You saw the body, Ingrid,” said Jo. “The cause of death was pretty obvious.”

“So no surprises, then.”

“Just a middle-aged woman with a bad knee, stretch marks, and a stiletto in her eye. Detective Alfond’s taken the lead, and so far, he hasn’t zeroed in on any suspects. Neither have I. Which is why I’m here.” She focused on Ingrid. “I have questions for you.”

Ingrid nodded. “I expected you would.”

“About that weapon—”

“What were its dimensions? The blade length and thickness? I assume the crime lab will be analyzing its metal composition?”

“Yes, but—”

“Was there a cutler’s stamp inside the guard?”

“A what?”

“A signature, left by the craftsman who made it.”

“The only mark I saw was on the handle.”

“The circle with the dot inside.”

“Yeah.” Jo looked around at the faces watching her. She’d come here to ask questions, yet she was now the one being interrogated. “Is that supposed to mean something? The circle with the dot inside it?”

No one answered. Instead, Ingrid turned to Lloyd and held out her empty glass. “Refill, please.”

“Oh dear. It’s turned into one of those days,” he said, and scooped ice into the cocktail shaker.

“Okay. It’s time for you to be straight with me,” said Jo. She looked around the group. “All of you.”

The response was silence. The only sound was the clatter of ice cubes in the shaker. She surveyed their unreadable faces. How easily these people donned those masks.

“What is the deal with the stiletto?” Jo asked. “What does it mean?”

“It’s a weapon designed to penetrate,” said Ingrid. “In the seventeenth century, it was used on the battlefield, to slide through vulnerable points in a knight’s armor. The blade is shaped to minimize friction upon entry, allowing it to plunge deeper into—”

“I don’t need a lecture on the damn thing. I want to know why you’re such an expert on the subject.”

“Oh, Ingrid’s an expert on many subjects,” said Lloyd, handing his wife a freshly poured martini.

“When we found Karen O’Brien’s body,” Jo said to Ingrid, “you didn’t look away. You just froze.”

“Wouldn’t anyone?” Ingrid calmly took a sip of her drink. “The sight of a dead body can do that.”

“I don’t think you were reacting to the body. I think you reacted to the weapon. You immediately knew what it was. Is it because you’ve seen one before?”

“There’s nothing unique about a stiletto.”

“But there’s something special about this one, isn’t there? Is it the way it was used? Or is it the symbol on the grip?” Jo looked at the other three. “I think you all know what’s going on here. Just tell me.”

“You’re imagining conspiracies,” said Ingrid.

“Yeah, well, you taught me that. I’m just trying to explain things that stand out to me. Things that don’t make sense.”

“Which things?”