“Sure, but Diana had no reason to want Mrs.Grimshaw dead.She didn’t even know her.”
“Steven did.”
True.Steven did.Or it was reasonable to think he must have made Griselda Grimshaw’s acquaintance if Anastasia Sokolov had lived next to the old bat, and Steven had visited her.Araminta Tucker had said that Griselda liked to stick her nose in other people’s business.It was quite likely she had stuck it in Steven’s.
“You think Steven shot Griselda Grimshaw so she wouldn’t tell Diana he was cheating on her?”
“I’m not thinking anything,” Mendoza said, which had to be a lie.“I just need to see the guns.”
“Do you know what kind of gun was used to shoot Mrs.Grimshaw?”
“The ME finished the autopsy this afternoon,” Mendoza said.And added, before I could ask, “There was nothing interesting or noteworthy about it.Cause of death was as expected.Two shots point blank to the chest.She was dead before she hit the floor.”
“That’s good, at least.”I wouldn’t have wanted her to suffer.
Mendoza nodded.“Both bullets were from the same gun.A 9 millimeter Smith and Wesson M&P.”After a second he added, “Military and Police.”
My jaw dropped.“The police shot her?”Or the military?Why?
“No,” Mendoza said, with fraught patience.“The Smith and Wesson Military and Police issue is also widely available commercially.It’s a popular gun.”
“Is that what I should get, if I wanted to get a gun?”
“You should find another job,” Mendoza said, “where you won’t need a gun.I hear The Bag Shoppe is hiring.”
It took a second, then— “The handbag store?You want me to sell accessories for a living?”
“I bet nobody ever stabbed anybody over a designer purse.”
“You’d be surprised,” I told him.“I’ve known women who’d kill over a lot less than that.But I don’t want to sell purses.I like what I do.”
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” Mendoza pointed out, which was unkind of him, I thought.
“I’m learning.I’m new at this.”
“That’s why I’m telling you to get out while you still can.Before it’s too late.”
“You mean, before I realize I’m good at it?Or before I realize I like it?”
“Before someone comes along and shoots you for sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong,” Mendoza said and turned to the door as Diana’s footsteps came back down the hallway.“Any luck?”
She put her handbag on the table.“My gun’s in here.Where it’s been all day.Feel free to look.”
Mendoza pulled the purse down on his lap and peered in while Diana continued, “But I don’t know what happened to Steven’s gun.It was upstairs yesterday.Now it isn’t.”
She tried to sound calm, but I could detect a quaver in her voice, a little ribbon of fear.
“Are you sure you saw it yesterday?”Mendoza had dug her gun out of the purse and was inspecting it.After a few seconds, he put it back and handed Diana the bag.“Can you vouch for Steven’s whereabouts last night and this morning?”
Diana nodded.“He came home from work as usual last night.We had dinner.Worked a little.Watched some TV.Went to bed.He didn’t get up again until morning.”
Neither of us said anything, but she added, defensively, “We slept in the same bed.I would have heard if he’d gotten up.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Mendoza said mildly.“Where does he keep the gun?”
Diana told him it lived in the bedside table drawer on Steven’s side of the bed.“He doesn’t carry it.Nobody threatens him, and anyway, the university is a gun-free zone.It’s just left over from before, when he traveled to some unsavory parts of the world.”
Mendoza nodded.“I’ll look up the registration.If nothing else, it’ll tell me what kind of gun it is.I assume it’s probably registered?”
