I took a few of the deep, calming yoga breaths Rose Noire would have recommended if she had been in her normal frame of mind, and headed for the kitchen.
I found all three of them sitting around the kitchen table eating some of Michael’s planned-overs from the Shack. Normally, Rose Noire would have protested that it wasn’t a suitable breakfast, but she was happily devouring corn on the cob, coleslaw, hush puppies, baked beans, macaroni and cheese, and—in a new culinary development—fresh fruit. I spotted mandarins, pomegranates, and grapes.
“Someone sent us a fruit basket?” I asked, snagging a grape.
“Caroline Willner,” Delaney said. “And not just a fruit basket—more like a fruit crate. It arrived just now. And she says she’s sorry she can’t be here for Christmas, but she and her daughter are having a great time on their cruise, and she’ll see us for New Year’s. Have a pomegranate.”
Just then the doorbell rang.
“Save one for me,” I said. “I’ll go see who it is.”
“Probably more cops,” Rob said.
“I think the whole county force is out there already,” Delaney said.
I didn’t hear Rob’s reply—I was already halfway to the front door. I opened it to find a young woman standing on our front step. She looked nervous, or maybe anxious. And vaguely familiar. I had the feeling if I were more awake, I’d have recognized her.
“Ms. Langslow?”
“What can I do for you?” I asked. “And sorry—I know we’ve met, but I’m not quite awake yet—”
“Merrilee Rafferty,” she said. “I’m—”
“Of course,” I said, shaking her outstretched hand. “Iris’s granddaughter. I heard you were staying with Iris, but I didn’t get to see you when you dropped her off last night.”
“May I bring in Gran?” Merrilee asked. “She wants to talk to Chief Burke, and she thought he might be here.”
“He is,” I said. “But he’s pretty busy at the moment. You may not have heard—”
“That you had a murder here last night,” Merrilee said. “I heard. And Gran heard—that’s why she wants to talk to the chief.”
“How in the world did she hear that already?” I wondered.
“Police band radio,” she explained. “Her new hobby. And she thinks she has some information that might help the chief with his investigation.”
Her tone suggested that she didn’t think her grandmother’s information would be all that helpful. I could understand her attitude. And I wondered how the chief would feel about having Iris as a possible witness. Had she really seen something, or would this turn out to be like the aliens and the exorcism?
Luckily it was the chief, not me, who had to figure that out.
“Okay if I bring her in?” Merrilee asked.
“Of course,” I said. “Do you need any help?”
“Not really. She’s pretty spry for ninety. That’s part of the problem. If I turn my back for five minutes…” She let the thought trail off and shook her head. Then she hurried back down the walk to where she’d parked her car, right by the opening where our front walk ran through the hedge. Iris began getting out of the car before Merrilee even reached it.
While they were making their way back to the door, with Merrilee trying to offer her arm for support and Iris sharply elbowing her away and occasionally flourishing her cane, I texted the chief to let him know what was up.
“Merry Christmas,” I said when they reached the front door.
“Same,” Iris said as she strode inside. “Where’s Henry Burke? I need to tell him about the ninjas.”
“Ninjas?” I echoed.
“Gran thinks she saw ninjas last night,” Merrilee said.
“And Merrilee thinks I was hallucinating,” Iris said. “She’ll see. Where is he?”
“In our library,” I said. “Would you like to have a seat and—”
But Iris knew the way, and she was off, hobbling briskly across the front hall, with the rubber tip of her cane making muted thuds on the hardwood floor.
“They probably parked down by the creek,” she said over her shoulder. “And then snuck back through the countryside. They were heading for your house.”
“For our house? Last night?” I followed Iris. I knew better than to try to help her, but at least I could try to catch her if she fell. Or pick her up if catching failed. “What time?”
“Late,” she said. “About the time the Johnny Carson show started.”
“Gran,” Merrilee said from behind us. “Johnny Carson isn’t on the air any longer.”
“Of course he isn’t,” Iris said. “Been dead for years. Decades. But his show’s still on. They’ve got some young whippersnapper taking his place. Never can remember his fool name. Doesn’t hold a candle to Carson—nowadays half the time the show puts me to sleep. But maybe that’s a silver lining.”
She’d reached the library door, gave a perfunctory knock, and flung it open. Chief Burke and Horace looked up from the table where they’d been examining some bit of evidence.
“Mrs. Rafferty,” the chief said. “Meg tells me you have some information for me.”
“I do indeed.” Iris stumped over to the nearest library table and sat down. “Should break your case wide open.”
“I look forward to hearing it.” The chief seated himself across the table from Iris, took out his pocket notebook, and sat with an expression of attentive anticipation, as if he really thought Iris’s information would turn out to be useful. And you never knew—maybe it would.
“Last night, I’d already gone to bed,” Iris said. “And I was watching Joh—watching one of those blasted late shows.” She shot a “so there” glance at Merrilee. “And I heard noises in the backyard, so I got up and grabbed my binoculars and went to see what was up.”
“And what did you see?” A good thing the chief was used to all her alien sightings—it would help him keep a straight face when he heard her answer.
“Ninjas!” Iris sat back in her chair with a triumphant expression, as if she’d delivered the telling blow in some verbal combat.
“Ninjas?” the chief echoed.
“Those Japanese assassin guys,” Iris explained.
“Yes, I’m familiar with ninjas,” the chief said.
“You’ve seen them, too?” Iris asked, eagerly.
“Not personally,” the chief said. “But I know what they are. How could you tell they were ninjas? I mean, can you give me a description?”
“Dressed all in black, of course,” Iris said. “With one of those ski-mask things terrorists always wear.”
“I see.” The chief scribbled in his notebook. “How many of them were there?”
“I only saw the one,” Iris said. “But they usually travel in groups, don’t they? Covens. Isn’t that what you call them?”
“I think that’s for Wiccans,” I said. “I don’t know what you call a group of ninjas.”
“A murder?” Iris suggested.
“That’s for crows,” I said. “Which they might greatly resemble, given the black outfit and all, but—”
“A skulk,” Horace said. “That’s what you use for foxes, but I think it fits.”
“I think a skulk sounds very suitable,” the chief said—a little hastily, since he was familiar with our family’s ability to conduct hours-long discussions about collective nouns. “If we find out there’s a better term, I can update the records. So you observed one ninja crossing your yard and deduced the presence of a skulk.”
“That’s right.” Iris sat forward again. “Except he wasn’t exactly crossing the yard—he was creeping along through the trees behind the house. You know how there isn’t a clean line between where our backyard ends and the woods start,” she added, looking at me. “It just gradually changes from no trees to some trees to mostly trees, and eventually you’re in the woods. He was in the some-trees part.”
I nodded.
“I see.” The chief looked torn. On the one hand, this could very well be a useful bit of evidence. On the other hand, Iris, with all her talk of aliens, demons, and ninjas, wasn’t exactly the most reliable information source in town. And she’d be a disaster on the witness stand. “Do you think you could identify the … er … ninja in a lineup?”
“Hell, no,” Iris said. “It was dark, and my eyesight’s not that good in the daylight.”
“Understandable,” the chief said, in a soothing tone. He sounded almost relieved.
“But you might be able to do something with the video.” Iris pulled out a sleek new iPhone with a Dr. Who–themed case.
“You took video?” The chief sounded surprised.
“You didn’t tell me that,” Merrilee said.
“You’d be surprised what we old fogies can do.” Iris was pushing buttons on her phone. “It’s not going to be great—moon was only half full, and he was pretty far away. But maybe you can do all those magic computer things they do on CSI.”
“I’m afraid network television often exaggerates what even the best of evidence technicians can do,” the chief said. “But I can assure you, we’ll do everything we can to identify the subject of your video.”
Iris held up her phone and we all edged closer to get a better look. The video wobbled in and out of focus for a few seconds, then settled down. And yes, it did look as if someone dressed all in black was creeping stealthily through scattered tree trunks. Moving from left to right, which was the direction an intruder would be taking to reach our house if you spotted him from one of Iris’s back windows. But did it really look like someone wearing a black ski mask? Or had Iris’s words influenced me into seeing a ski mask where there was only shadow?
“Well, there was definitely someone there,” Horace murmured.
“The trick is identifying that someone,” the chief said.
“So you don’t think it’s going to be useful.” Iris looked disappointed.
“Actually, it could be very useful,” the chief said. “We may not be able to identify your … ninja from the video—though we’ll certainly try. But assuming the time on your phone is reasonably accurate—”
“Reasonably accurate?” She snorted. “It’s dead accurate. They tell me the damn thing checks with the stars or something and updates itself if it’s gained or lost time. I don’t even have to do anything when we go through that stupid time change twice a year. But how’s that going to help you?”
“Anyone who can prove they were back at the hotel when the video was taken isn’t going to be your ninja,” the chief said.
“And isn’t the killer,” Iris added, in a triumphant tone.
“We won’t know that for sure,” the chief said. “We’d know your ninja came over here, but we’d still need to prove he was actually the one who attacked Mr. Norton.”
“Yeah, right,” Iris said. “What are the odds of two sinister intruders sneaking around out here in the boonies in the middle of the night?”
“Around here?” Horace murmured. “Higher than you’d think.”
“Two unrelated intruders in one night would be quite a coincidence,” the chief said. “And I’m not a big fan of coincidences when they come anywhere near my crime scene.”
Iris nodded as if to say that this was more like it.
“But I’m also not big on jumping to conclusions.” He glanced over at Horace. “Horace can check out your yard to see if the intruder left any trace. And to assess what kind of trace evidence he might have picked up.”
“Yes,” Horace said. “Remember Locard’s exchange principle.”
“Remember it?” Iris said. “I’ve never even heard of it.”
“Edmond Locard was a pioneering forensic scientist,” Horace said. “They called him the Sherlock Holmes of France. His exchange principle means that when someone commits a crime, they always leave something behind at the scene and take something away.”
“Even if the only thing left behind is footprints, that could be useful,” the chief said. “And even if we don’t find footprints, we can also examine the footwear of our suspects to see if any of them have picked up trace evidence that would indicate they’d been sneaking through your yard. Can you send us that video?”
“No idea how to do that, but here.” She shoved her phone into my hand. “You do it.”
She rattled off her phone’s passcode, and I navigated to the video in question.
“Is it okay if I send myself a copy, too?” I asked. “I could take a look and see if I recognize the ninja.”
“That would be acceptable,” the chief said. “Since I know you’ll tell me immediately if you do identify the intruder.”
“And copy Kevin with it,” Horace said. “He’s light years ahead of me when it comes to enhancing digital images. And he could—wait! Doesn’t Kevin have security cameras set up here? If he caught the ninja on camera—”
“I’ve already asked,” the chief said. “He does have cameras here, but they’re mostly designed to spot anyone approaching the house. He’s going to do a more in-depth search, but so far he hasn’t yet found any trace of an intruder on any of last night’s footage, which suggests that the killer struck before Mr. Norton got close enough to the house to be within camera range.”
“Want to bet that by New Year’s Kevin will have a whole bunch of new cameras set up?” Horace asked. “Covering every square inch of the backyard?”
“If you’re betting it won’t happen till close to New Year’s, I’ll take that bet,” I said. “I’m betting he’ll take time off from the conference to install them.”
“The time when Mrs. Rafferty shot her video may help Kevin narrow down his search in the video footage,” the chief said. “Horace, why don’t you go over now and work the scene in Mrs. Rafferty’s backyard, And Meg, maybe you could go along, in case he needs an extra pair of hands. We’re a little understaffed to begin with, and this is going to take a lot of my deputies’ time.”
“No problem.” Actually, I realized that the chief wanted me along to watch Horace’s back. When he was focusing on a crime scene, it wouldn’t take ninja-level stealth skills to sneak up on him. He could easily ignore a herd of elephants crashing through the underbrush, and there was a killer on the loose. A killer with a history of creeping around our neighborhood.
“Do you need for us to be there?” Merrilee asked. “After all of last night’s excitement, Gran’s heart rate is a little wonky, and I want to take her into town to get it checked out.”
“No use in that,” Iris said. “Dr. Steiner’s on vacation. Sunning himself in Florida, the lucky dog.”
“Yes, I know,” Merrilee said. “But we could see if someone down at the hospital could take a look at you.”
“Hell, no,” Iris said. “Damn place is probably a hotbed of germs this time of year.”
“Isn’t Dad dropping by pretty soon to brief you on his preliminary examination of the body?” I asked, turning to the chief. Actually, I was inventing this, but I knew Dad would gladly drop by if he thought there was any chance Iris needed him. “While he’s here, why don’t we ask him to check Iris out. Just to ease Merrilee’s mind,” I added, before Iris could interrupt.
“No need for all that fuss.” Iris crossed her arms and scowled at us.
“Yes, but while he’s doing that, he could see if you’re a good candidate for that forensic hypnosis he’s been working on,” I said. “Wouldn’t that be a good idea?” I added, turning to the chief. “It would certainly be a help if Iris could remember any more details about the ninja.”
“It’s definitely worth trying.” The chief managed a straight face. “If Mrs. Rafferty is willing.”
“Sounds like fun,” Iris said. “Count me in.”
Actually, Dad wasn’t all that skilled at hypnosis, but occasionally he did manage to put one of his subjects under, and he and Iris would have fun trying.
“You got any more questions for me?” Iris said, turning to the chief.
“Not at present,” he said. “But I’ll come and find you if I think of any more. You’re staying in town for the holidays, I presume?”
“Only sane thing to do,” she said. “You seen how crowded the planes and trains get this time of year?”
“Very sensible,” the chief said.
“So we’ll stop bothering you and go wait for Dr. Langslow,” Iris said, and led the way out of the library.
“Horace, let me know when you’re ready to leave,” I said. “I’ll be in the kitchen grabbing a bite of breakfast.”
He nodded and went back to showing the chief some interesting bit of evidence. I left them to it.
“Have you eaten?” I asked Merrilee, as we followed Iris down the hall to the main part of the house.
“I was just about to fix some breakfast when Gran came in to tell me she had to talk to the chief,” Merrilee replied.
“Come have a bite with us, then,” I offered. “No one’s had any time to cook yet this morning, so it’s not technically a proper breakfast—”
“Are you offering leftovers from last night?” Iris asked. “Count me in. It’s from the Shack,” she added to Merrilee. “What’s not to like?”
So Iris and Merrilee joined us in the kitchen, and Rose Noire was sufficiently recovered from her shock that she insisted on heating the food and serving us.
“When you’re up to it,” I told her, “the chief would like to interview you before he heads over to the Inn.”
“Oh, dear,” she said. “I’m really not looking forward to reliving all that.”
“The sooner you get it over with the better,” Mother said, in her most soothing tone.
“Don’t think of it as reliving it,” I suggested. “Think of it as pouring out all this morning’s negative experience into the chief’s strong and capable hands.”
“Ooh,” she said. “I like that.”
“You’re getting really good at that whole glass half full thing,” Rob commented.
“What are you telling the chief about?” Iris asked. “Did you see the ninjas, too?”
“Ninjas?” Rose Noire echoed.
“She found the body,” Delaney said. “And it was very upsetting,” she added quickly, seeing the look on Iris’s face. “We’ve agreed not to talk about it just yet.”
“I’ll fill you in later,” I said to Iris.
“Meg?” Horace appeared in the doorway. “You ready to go?”