“I don’t think they were ever questioned,” Darlene replied with a frown.
The original investigation was looking increasingly narrow in its focus, potentially missing connections and alternative scenarios that a wider canvass of the neighborhood might have revealed. Whether that was due to limited resources, pressure from the Bell family’s connections, or simple tunnel vision on the part of the investigating detective was something Kinsley hadn’t yet determined. The lead detective on the case had long since retired from active duty, and tracking him down for a conversation about his methodology was already on her list.
Kinsley made a snap decision. She abandoned the gradual approach she’d been taking and went for a direct question that might shake loose something new.
“Ms. Barrett, were you aware that Iris was secretly recording private conversations and using those recordings to blackmail people?”
Kinsley could already imagine Captain Thompson’s reaction once he realized she’d disclosed that information to a witness, but she would deal with the fallout later today. Richard Bell had been present when the duffel bag of cash was discovered, and he was under the impression that Kinsley would keep the details under wraps while she completed her preliminary investigation. Sharing them with a neighbor was a calculated risk, but Kinsley had learned that such gambles were often the difference between an investigation that moved and one that stalled.
She was glad she’d taken it. Darlene’s body language transformed instantly. Her arms crossed over her chest in a defensive posture, her shoulders rose, and her spine pressed flat against the chair back. The soft reminiscence that had colored her features seconds ago disappeared, replaced by a wariness that tightened the skin around her eyes and hardened her mouth.
“You’re talking about Iris’s desire to become some type of investigative journalist,” Darlene said dismissively, but the slight downward inflection at the end betrayed the effort behind the casualness. She was working to minimize, the same way she’d minimized the names on the street. “Eden was furious when she discovered that Iris had been secretly recording some of her luncheons with her charitable board members. From my understanding, Iris promised her mother that she would stop invading people’s privacy.”
Kinsley maintained steady eye contact, letting the silence stretch between them until the kitchen clock’s ticking became the loudest sound in the room. Darlene held out for several seconds, then shifted in her chair.
“We found twenty-seven cassette tapes hidden in the Bell attic,” Kinsley explained, her tone conversational despite the tension that now filled the space between them. “If Iris promised her mother she would stop taping private conversations, she didn’t keep that promise. She recorded conversations with family members, friends, neighbors, school administrators, and from what I can tell, anyone who came within range of her recorders.”
Darlene’s fingers curled tightly around her upper arms, her knuckles whitening with pressure. Her eyes widened a fraction, but she remained silent.
“Forensics also discovered a duffel bag hidden behind a false wall in one of the bedroom closets. It contained approximately ten thousand dollars in cash.”
“I don’t know anything about a bag full of money,” Darlene said quickly, the denial arriving fast enough to suggest it was genuine.
“But you did know about the recordings.” Kinsley seized on the partial admission implied by the specificity of Darlene’s denial. “Didn’t you, Ms. Barrett?”
“Yes,” Darlene admitted after clearing her throat. The admission came out dry and reluctant. “Word had gotten around, and she wasn’t exactly subtle about it, at least not with certain people.”
“Like who?”
“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.” Darlene dropped her gaze to the pointed toe of her right heel. “Iris upset a lot of people in the neighborhood, but it was Grant who was leaning over her body that night, going through her pockets.”
“Ms. Barrett, please don’t make my job harder than it needs to be. Whatever it is you’re not telling me, I’ll find out eventually. I’d rather hear it from you.”
“Fine, but will you give me your word that you won’t say where you heard this?” Darlene uncrossed her legs and planted the soles of her heels flat on the kitchen tile, a small act of defiance that suggested she was done being cooperative on Kinsley’s terms. She couldn’t offer that guarantee, and she was no longer inclined to guide this woman gently through the rest of the interview. Darlene seemed to sense the shift, because she gave a small huff of irritation before continuing. “Fine. If you must know, Iris had recorded Ginny on the phone with her personal trainer. Ginny and Todd were having some marital issues back then. Ginny didn’t want Todd finding out about the affair.”
“How was Iris able to record such a conversation?”
“I don’t know, but Iris confronted Ginny with the recording. Apparently, she’d said some pretty explicit things on that call, and Iris told her she’d play it for Todd unless Ginny gave her something in return.” Darlene lifted her chin with a defensiveness that hadn’t been present earlier, as though disclosing her friend’s secret had shifted something fundamental in the room. “Not money, though. Jewelry. Ruby earrings and a matching necklace that Todd had given Ginny for their tenth anniversary. They were expensive pieces.”
“And Ginny gave them to her?”
“What choice did she have?” Darlene’s loyalty to her friend was unmistakable. “Iris was a seventeen-year-old girl with nothing to lose, and trust me, she’d smile sweetly while twisting the knife. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she knew exactly how much power she held over people who had everything to protect.”
“Yet you didn’t share any of this with the detective investigating the case thirty years ago,” Kinsley pointed out. She didn’t bother softening the observation. The time for gentlehandling had passed. “Did Iris blackmail anyone else that you know of?”
“I can’t say for certain, but there were always rumors to that effect,” Darlene said, shifting in her chair as though preparing to bring the interview to an end. “Look, Iris might have been a rebellious teenager. And yes, she was wrong to use private conversations as leverage against people. But no one deserves to die like that. No one deserves to be found at the bottom of a staircase with their head split open.”
The way Darlene’s voice caught on the last sentence told Kinsley the emotion was genuine. Whatever else Darlene Barrett was holding back, her sorrow over Iris’s death was real. Kinsley sat quietly for a moment, turning over the second half of their conversation in her mind.
Darlene had known about the recordings.
She’d known about the blackmail.
She’d protected her friend Ginny’s secret for three decades. And she’d presented all of it only under direct pressure, which meant there was likely more she hadn’t offered yet.
One thing stood out, and Kinsley wasn’t sure whether the omission had been intentional or not. Darlene had described Iris’s blackmail of Ginny in vivid detail, with the kind of specificity that came from firsthand knowledge rather than secondhand gossip. She’d known what was on the recording, what Iris had demanded in return, and how Ginny had felt about it.
There was one more question worth asking.
