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She lifted one shoulder uncomfortably. "I was angry with Ke

"Which was what?"

"I'll get to that in a minute. You have to understand the context…"

I couldn't wait to hear this. "Context" is what you mention when you're rationalizing bad behavior. You don't need to talk about "context" when you've done something good. "I'm listening."

"I finally realized just how sick I was of Isabelle's murder. I'm sick of the whole subject and all the drama attached. It's been six years and that's all Ke

"Not necessarily…"

She went on as if I hadn't spoken. "I told Morley I hated Iz, that I was thrilled to pieces when she died. I was just, you know, spewing out all this emotional… garbage. What's weird is when I thought about it later, I understood how twisted my thinking had become. Ke

"You came to this conclusion after talking to Morley?"

"That was part of what triggered the realization that it was time to get out. If I'm ever going to be healthy, I've got to separate myself from Ken, learn to stand on my own two feet for a change-"

"And that's when you decided you were leaving him? Just last week?"

"Well, yes."

"So it had nothing to do with the cancer two years ago."

She shrugged. "I'm sure that played a part. It was like waking up. It was like suddenly understanding what my life was about. Honestly, until I talked to Morley, I thought I was happily married. Really. I thought everything was fine. I mean, more or less. After that, I understood it was all an illusion."

"Must have been a hell of a conversation," I said.

I waited briefly, but she had lapsed into silence.

"What was the 'more or less' part?" I asked.

She looked up at me. "What?"

"You want to tell me what you discovered? You said something made you angry. I gather that's why you got in touch with Morley in the first place."

"Oh. Yes, of course. I was tidying up the study and came across an account Ken had been keeping from me."

"A bank account?"

"Like that. A ledger sheet. He'd been, uhm, assisting someone financially."

"Assisting someone," I repeated blankly.

"You know. Regular cash payments from month to month. This has been going on for three years. Being a good businessman, of course he kept a record. It must not have occurred to him that I'd lay hands on it."

"What's it about? Does Ke

"That's what I thought at first, but in a way it's worse."

"Francesca, would you just quit screwing around and tell me what's going on?"

It took her a moment. "He's been giving money to Curtis McIntyre."

"To Curtis?" I said. I could barely take that in. "What for?"

"That's what I asked. I was appalled of course. The minute he came home, I confronted him."

I stared at her. "And what did he say?"

"He says it was like walking-around money. To help with his rent. A few bucks to get some of his bills paid off. Things like that."

"Why would he do such a thing?" I asked.

"I have no idea."





"How much?"

"About thirty-six hundred dollars so far."

"Well, there goes that," I said. "Here I've been feeling guilty because I came up with information that throws a monkey wrench into Lo

"That's what I told Ken. He swears he was just trying to help the guy out."

"Doesn't he know how that's going to look if it comes to light? It's going to look like he's paying Curtis for his testimony. Trust me, Curtis is not that reliable as it is. How are we going to pass him off as an impartial witness doing his civic duty?"

"He doesn't see anything wrong with it. He says Curtis was having trouble finding a job. I guess Curtis told him he might have to leave the area and go somewhere else. Ke

"That's what subpoenas are for!"

"Well, don't get mad at me. Ken swears it's not what it looks like. Curtis came to him after David was acquitted-"

"Oh, stop it, Francesca. What's a jury supposed to think? How convenient. Curtis's testimony is going to directly benefit the man who's been paying him now for three years…" I stopped where I was. Something in the way she was clutching at the pillow made me study her more closely. "What's the rest?"

"I gave Morley the ledger. I was worried Ke

"When was this?"

"When I found the ledger? Wednesday night, I guess. I took it over to Morley on Thursday, and when Ke

"Did he know you'd taken it?"

"Yes, and he was furious. He wanted it back, but there was no way I was going to do that."

"Did he know you'd given it to Morley?"

"I never said that. He might have figured it out, but I don't see how. What makes you ask?"

"Because Morley was murdered. Somebody baked him a strudel filled with poisoned mushrooms. I found the white bakery box in the wastebasket."

Her face was blank. "Surely you don't think it was Ken."

"Let's put it this way: I've been through both Morley's offices. There's no ledger at all and the files are incomplete. I've been operating on the assumption that his housekeeping was sloppy or he was ripping Lo

"Ke

"What happened Thursday when you couldn't produce the ledger? Did he drop the subject?"

"He asked me repeatedly, but I wouldn't tell him. Then he said it didn't matter anyway because it wasn't a crime. If he lent Curtis money, it was between the two of them."

"But doesn't it strike you as interesting? Here's Ke

"Blackmail for what?"

"Isabelle's murder. That's what all of this is about."

"He wouldn't have killed Isabelle. He loved her too much."

"That's what he says now. Who knows what he felt back then?"

"He wouldn't do that," she said without much conviction.

"Why not? Isabelle rejected him for David Barney. What could be more satisfying than to kill her and have the blame fall on David?"

I left her sitting there with the pillow in her lap. She'd twisted one corner until it looked like a rabbit's ear.