I rushed through the flat. Ah, yes. There it was, exactly as I remembered it. As I picked up the article and tucked it into my purse, my gaze caught movement out of the corner of my eye.
What’s that?
I stepped in front of the fireplace. Instead of the taxidermy monkey and shrunken heads that usually decorated the mantle, someone had placed a row of large bell jars. Each one contained swarms of large, disgusting bugs, all fighting over various lumps of meat and fabric.
Ants, spiders, beetles and…
Yup… those are definitely locusts.
Anger surged inside me. Jopromisedno more creepy crawlies. Why would she have locusts again after what happened last time?
“That’s it.” I muttered, shoving the jars of bugs into my tote bag. They clanged against each other. I hoped they wouldn’t smash. I’d take them to Jo’s lab, which was near the station, and tell her they either had to move, or I would.
“Meoorrrrw!” Grimalkin complained as she batted at the jars.
I locked up and jogged over to the police station. I was surprised to see the duty officer slumped over the counter, sound asleep. I rang the bell in an attempt to wake him, but he didn’t stir.
“Sorry, mate, this won’t take long. I don’t want to hang around with these little critters in my bag.” I scribbled my name and details down on the visitor’s sheet, so he wouldn’t get in trouble, and slipped past him to head to Inspector Hayes’ office.
When I poked my head in, I discovered it was empty. They must’ve been out chasing a lead. I tried Hayes’ cell, but it went straight to voicemail. I set the article down on the desk, but it felt weird to just leave it. In fact, the whole station felt weird. It was eerily quiet.Must be a busy day for crime in Argleton.
I know. I’ll go down to the cells to see Beverly. I’ll tell her the good news that I’ve cleared her name. If Hayes or another officer hasn’t returned by the time I get back, I’ll leave the article with a note.
I knew my way around the precinct from that one horrible night I was sent to the cells under suspicion of Ashley’s murder. I headed down the staircase and along the dank corridor between the cells. The whole place reeked of piss.
“Beverly?” I called out. “It’s Mina Wilde. You wanted to talk to me? I’ve got good news for you. I—”
She stepped toward me, her eyes wide with panic. “Mina, get out of here!”
“But, I have to—”
“Look out!” she cried. “He’s right—”
Beverley’s cry cut off into a sob as something cold and slippery wrapped around my neck. A raspy voice whispered in my ear. “Hello, Miss Wilde.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Don’t move a muscle, Mina. Or I’ll twist this scarf and you’ll be a dead woman.”
The smooth voice echoed in my ears, impossibly loud, impossible in all ways because… he couldn’t be the killer. He had an alibi…an alibi…
Morrie read one of Danny’s earlier books. He said it was a great story where the killer used a recording to fake an alibi, and Danny got his ideas from...
“Let go of her, Angus.” Beverly hissed. “She hasn’t done anything. It’s me you really want.”
“No can do.” Angus’ voice was calm. “I need to tie up all the loose ends. When Danny told me I couldn’t read the memoir, I knew he’d figured out I was the killer. I had to stop him. Brian knew the truth too, so he had to go. And you Bev… you’re right. I did come here to finish you off. You’re a thorn in my side and you won’t stop harping on about that dead daughter of yours! How fortunate that Mina happened to be here as well. Now I’ll be able to kill two birds with one stone. Or one scarf, as it were. I’ve got this one that I picked up from the ground on the night of Danny’s reading. That will do nicely. It looks exactly like Abigail’s scarf from back in the day. I’ll make it look as though Mina broke you out of jail, and you turned on her, garroting her to death before hanging yourself in your own cell.”
His words slipped through the fog in my mind as I struggled for air, but they made no sense.Angus can’t be the killer. He can’t…
Of course.My frenzied mind pulled up all the information we’d uncovered about Abigail’s murder. I’d never even thought to suspect Angus because he was a cop… but that put him in the perfect position to try to pin the murder on Danny, and when that hadn’t worked because Danny had an alibi, to declare the case unsolved, andoh Isis…
Beverly said that DNA evidence had been inconclusive, that Angus had tried his best to find the killer, but there wasn’t enough evidence. What if there wasn’t enough evidence because Angus was covering his own tracks?
The scarf.Abigail’s scarf that the killer used to garrote Danny… Angus must’ve taken it from the police inventory. He’d kept it as a memento all these years. But why befriend Danny… and why kill Danny now… and Brian and Beverly…
Angus tightened the scarf around my throat. All my thoughts cut off as panic surged through me. My hands scrambled, searching for something, anything. Red welts appeared in front of my eyes, growing larger and punctuated by sparks of flourescent light. My head screamed.
My tote clanked against the bars as Angus lifted me. My fingers closed around something smooth and cold. Glass. The jars!
