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Emerson looked into the hole. “Saint Nicholas,” he said. “I’d know him anywhere.”
“Are you planting the mums yourself?” Riley asked Irene.
“No. I’m filling the hole and selling the house,” Irene said. “This is like some kind of weird burial ground. The place is lousy with these stupid saints. God knows how long they’ve been here or why they’re here. We didn’t plant them. We aren’t even Catholic.”
“How long have you lived in this house?”
“Five years.”
“Saint Nicholas is in extraordinarily good shape for having been in the ground for at least five years.”
“He’s a saint,” Irene said. “They probably hold up better than the rest of us.” She turned her attention to Riley. “I believe we met once before. It’s Riley, correct?”
“Yes. I was an intern at Blane-Grunwald this past summer.”
“My husband took a special interest in you. He thought you had potential.”
“He was a wonderful mentor. And I’m sure he was instrumental in hiring me.”
Emerson swung his attention to the boat at the end of the dock. “Nice sailboat.”
“I suppose,” Irene said. “Günter loved it. He said it was his escape.”
“What was he escaping from?”
“Me,” Irene said. “He used the boat like a ‘men’s only’ back porch.”
“It wasn’t your back porch as well?”
“I get seasick looking at it. In all the time we’ve owned it I think I’ve set foot on it twice.”
“Pity,” Emerson said.
“Mr. Knight has a few questions,” Riley said to Irene. “He’s been engaged to look into Günter’s disappearance.”
Irene looked shocked. “Who engaged him?”
“Werner,” Emerson said.
“So thoughtful of Werner,” Irene said. “Of course I want to help in any way. What would you like to ask me?”
“Did you kill your husband?” Emerson asked.
Irene’s mouth dropped open, and she blinked three times.
“He didn’t mean ‘kill your husband,’?” Riley said.
“I did,” Emerson said. “I very distinctly heard myself ask her if she killed her husband.”
“I did not kill my husband,” Irene said.
“Good to know,” Riley said. She gave Emerson a stern look. “Anything else?”
“I understand you filed papers to gain power of attorney for your joint property,” Emerson said to Irene.
“My lawyer thought it was prudent.”
Emerson rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets. “But you didn’t file a missing persons report with the police.”
