Chương 2
His eyes reached the glass first, then Daniel’s phone, then Margaret standing beside the coffin.
“What happened?”
“Call your security staff,” Daniel said. “No one comes in. No one cleans this room.”
Paul looked from one face to another. “Captain Hayes—”
“The police are on the way.”
Margaret’s composure returned in pieces. She touched the pearl at the center of her throat and straightened one cuff of her emerald dress.
“Mr. Latham, my son and I are leaving. Daniel is distraught.”
Paul did not move aside.
The dispatcher’s voice came through Daniel’s phone, asking him to confirm that the accused individuals were still present.
“They are,” Daniel said.
Paul’s gaze dropped to the object in Daniel’s fist.
The color drained from his face.
Daniel noticed. “You’ve seen this recorder before.”
Paul’s lips parted. Nothing came out.
Margaret turned toward him.
The fear that crossed her face was smaller than the panic before, but sharper.
“Mr. Latham,” Daniel said, “how did this get into my wife’s hand?”
Paul glanced at the open doors. Two members of the funeral home staff stood in the hallway, uncertain whether to enter.
“Close the doors,” Daniel said.
Paul did.
Margaret took one step toward him. “I asked you a question yesterday.”
Paul flinched.
Daniel felt the room rearrange itself around that reaction.
“What question?” he asked.
Paul swallowed. “Mrs. Vale wanted to know whether anything had been placed in the casket that was not listed on the family inventory.”
Margaret’s fingers closed around her pearl necklace.
“I was checking,” she said. “Families place things with the deceased. Letters. Photographs. It was a reasonable concern.”
“Why?” Daniel asked.
“Because I paid for this funeral.”
“You asked him before or after you saw the recorder?”
“I did not see it.”
“Then why were you looking for it?”
“I wasn’t.”
Ethan closed his eyes briefly. His jaw flexed.
Daniel wanted to cross the room and force the truth out of both of them. The desire was physical, primitive, and humiliating. He fixed his attention on Elena’s wedding band instead. The small diamond caught the amber light.
He had put that ring on her finger seven years earlier while his hands shook so badly that she had whispered, “You disarm bombs better than you do jewelry.”
It had made him laugh in front of everyone.
The memory softened nothing.
Sirens approached through the rainless afternoon, faint at first, then clear enough that Margaret heard them. Her hand fell from her necklace.
Ethan said, “Mother, stop talking.”
She turned on him. “I have done nothing wrong.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
The sirens stopped outside.
Daniel’s phone still lay open on the velvet chair beside the coffin. The dispatcher told him officers had arrived.
Paul went to meet them.
Daniel stood with Elena between himself and the two people she had named. He could smell spilled whiskey, cut flowers, furniture polish, and the faint chemical sweetness the funeral home could not completely hide.
Ethan stared at him across the coffin.
“You always wanted to be the one who saved her,” Ethan said.
Daniel’s fist tightened around the recorder.
Ethan continued, “Maybe ask yourself why she didn’t give it to you while she was alive.”
Margaret said his name in warning.
But the words had already found their place.
Two uniformed officers entered with Paul behind them. One officer was older, broad through the shoulders, with rain spots darkening his sleeves. The other was a younger woman whose eyes moved quickly around the room without appearing rushed.
Daniel identified himself and raised his closed hand.
“The device is here. I haven’t stopped the recording or touched any controls.”
The female officer asked him to set it on an empty surface.
Daniel looked at the tables. Flowers, framed photographs, a folded condolence book.
“Use the lid of that display case,” he said. “Mr. Latham, is it clean?”
Paul nodded.
Daniel placed the recorder down carefully. Its red light continued to pulse.
The officer photographed it before touching it. She asked everyone to remain apart and requested additional investigators. The older officer guided Margaret toward one side of the room and Ethan toward the other.
No one handcuffed anyone. No one shouted. The absence of spectacle made the accusation feel more real.
Daniel stood beside the coffin until the female officer asked whether he wanted to sit.
“No.”
“Captain Hayes, I’m Officer Patel. Detectives are coming. I need you not to handle the recorder again.”
“I understand.”
“Did you know it was in her hand?”
“No.”
“Who had access to the body?”
“I don’t know.”
Paul cleared his throat. “I can provide a list.”
Officer Patel asked him to wait.
Margaret spoke from across the room. “My daughter had experienced episodes of paranoia. There are medical records.”
Daniel turned toward her.
Officer Patel lifted one hand. “Ma’am, please don’t address him.”
“I am trying to prevent a misunderstanding.”
“You’ll have an opportunity to speak with the detectives.”
Margaret’s eyes moved to the recorder. “That device could contain anything.”
Ethan leaned against the wall with his arms folded. His shoes stood in a thin crescent of whiskey. One wet shard clung to the sole.
Daniel watched him notice it.
Ethan did not move his foot again.
Detective Lena Ortiz arrived twenty minutes later with a crime-scene technician and a second detective named Warren Cole. Ortiz wore a plain black jacket over a gray blouse. She was perhaps forty, with tired eyes and a clipped way of speaking that made condolences sound honest rather than ceremonial.
She asked that Elena’s coffin be closed temporarily.
Daniel refused before Paul could answer.
Ortiz studied him. “Why?”
“I don’t want anyone touching her until I know why that recorder was there.”
“That is exactly why I’m asking. We need to preserve the area and limit exposure.”
Daniel looked down at Elena’s face.
Closing the coffin felt like agreeing to lose her again.
Ortiz waited.
May you like
“Let me do it,” he said.
Paul showed him where to place his hands. Daniel lowered the lid until Elena disappeared. The brass hardware gave a soft click.
