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Keith shook his head and picked up some papers from the defense table. “No. Jacqueline Blue left The Dakota apartment building at exactly 8:55 A.M. You came through the door at precisely 9:00.”
She said nothing.
“At 9:15, you ran into the lobby and told the security guard at the front desk that your sister was injured. He called 911 and the police arrived on the scene at 9:25.”
She waved her tiny hands. “It’s all such a blur. I’m sure you can understand that, Mr. Williams.”
“I certainly can,” Keith answered cordially. “What I can’t understand is the fifteen-minute lag time. Do you have a key to your sister’s apartment?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“In case of an emergency.”
“What kind of an emergency?”
“In case Annabelle lost her key and couldn’t get in.”
Keith searched his notes as though he were confused. “But didn’t her husband also share that apartment with her?”
“Yes.”
“Did Craig Murray know that you had keys to his home?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay. Did Annabelle unlock the door for you or did you let yourself in?”
She neatly sidestepped the trap. “My sister could not unlock the door because she was lying dead on the bathroom floor.”
Keith was unperturbed. “So, you let yourself in. Then what?”
“I found her lying on her back and . . . and . . . oh, I can’t go on!” She began to cry again.
Keith’s voice hardened. “Did you go into the kitchen first? Her bedroom? The library? Another bathroom? Did you call her name as you walked through the apartment?”
“Objection!”
“Sustained. One question at a time, Mr. Williams.”
“Would you like me to repeat the questions, one by one, Mrs. Rizzelli?”
“No.”
“Then walk us through those minutes, please.”
She rambled on about callin
g Annabelle’s name as she walked through each room. The pink bathroom was the last place she checked and made the shocking discovery.
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
Sarah Jane’s voice cracked again. “I’ve asked myself that question a thousand times.”
“And the answer is?” Keith persisted.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t know.”
