There were only a few inches on the right side of the body where I could stand without disturbing Glenda Jarvis, the victim. Briggs had set up the police light, which was like ten thousand light bulbs going off at once in a tiny, dark passage. The glare was almost too much, but it kept me from slipping on blood.
Glenda's head was tilted against the second to last step, mostly facing down. Her eyes were slightly open, making it feel as if she was watching me as I crouched down to sniff her clothes. She was wearing a short, champagne pink faux fur coat and a pair of tight black pants. An outfit like that would have indicated that she'd gone out to a party or dancing the night before but then it seemed she was always dressed for a social event. Glamour seemed to be her everyday look. It was interesting considering that Kate had been dressing down for her new boyfriend, leaving behind her usual flashy mod style for a more staid, collegiate look. I wondered if Lionel was the type of man who played women by telling them how they should dress, even if he had no particular preferences. Sometimes it was just a control thing.
"Lacey, Nate and his team are here," Briggs called down the stairwell. I could only see his outline in the harsh light flowing down the passage.
"Just a minute." The cramped quarters made it hard to get my nose too close, but I quickly picked up the scent of Lionel's expensive cologne. It lingered on her coat but had probably been there for more than a few days since it was faint. That made sense considering Lionel had been dead for several days. It also didn't tell us much because we already knew there was something going on between Lionel and Glenda.
Nate's deep voice poured down past the blinding light. "I hate it when they're on narrow steps," he said. Seemed like a reasonable complaint. It was nearly impossible for me to do a simple nasal inspection. It would be much harder to do a coroner's initial exam. The last thing Nate needed was another person crowding the stairwell. I pushed to standing and climbed back up to the deck.
In the few minutes I'd spent below deck, the sun had dropped greatly. It was definitely time for me to head home. I didn't want to ride back in the dark.
"Why don't I get someone to drive you home," Briggs suggested.
"I've got just enough light to get home safely. But I won't say no to you walking me back to my bicycle. Unless you're needed here."
"I can break away from the scene now that Nate is on board."
He gave me a hand off the boat and onto the dock. He rested his hand on my back, a protective, slightly possessive gesture that I always loved.
"Are you sure you don't want a ride back? It's getting colder by the minute."
"I'll be fine and the chill is nothing a long, hot shower won't erase. Tell me more about today's investigation into Lionel's death, then I'll tell you what happened during my own investigation. Did you talk to Kate?"
We walked through the crowd, which was mostly dispersing because of the cold and the dark. "Kate came into the station looking very distraught. Hilda had to make her a cup of tea to calm her nerves. She said she'd been dating Lionel for about three weeks, and they were quite serious." He flashed an eye roll, but it was pretty much warranted. Three weeks was hardly long enough to become serious, unless you were Kate Yardley. "She'd discovered that Lionel had given Margaret Sherwood a necklace. Apparently, your buddy, Lola, had something to do with that."
"Yes but it was entirely innocent on Lola's part. She had no idea Lionel was seeing multiple women."
We headed along the wharf. The shops and food stands were closing up for the night. I was relieved to see my bicycle was still right where I'd placed it on Pickford Way.
"The necklace didn't matter too much." We stopped at the bike. "Kate turned over the photo. I'm having it tested for prints," Briggs said. "It was definitely Lionel and our newest victim, Glenda."
"I suppose we can take Ms. Jarvis off the person of interest list," I said.
"Looks that way."
"What did Kate say when you asked about her car being spotted at Lionel's house?"
"She was confused and flustered." Briggs took off his fedora and smoothed his hair back before returning it to his head. "She confessed that she drove to his house early in the evening and confronted him about the necklace and the photo. It seems Lionel tried to smooth it over, make excuses. He told her Margaret had been a kind neighbor, and he felt sorry for her being a widow so he bought her a gift. He told her that the woman in the picture was a friend of the family. Kate told him he was a liar and that she never wanted to see him again. She stormed out and that was the last she saw of him."
I could occasionally read his thoughts in his face, but under the failing daylight and the brim of his hat he just looked weary. It had been a long day, and now he would be working late collecting evidence and waiting for the coroner to finish up.
"Do you have any reason not to believe Kate?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Not really. I talked to Margaret Sherwood an hour later. Lionel might have been claiming that he was just buying her a necklace because she'd been neighborly, but as far as Margaret was concerned, they were in a relationship. He took her to dinner several times and whispered in her ear more than once. That part she said with a blush on her cheeks."
"Poor Margaret," I said. "Did she bring up the photo?"
His face popped up. "She didn't mention anything about a photo." His brow perked up. "How do you know about a photo?"
I smiled sweetly. "I might have gone back to the crime scene."
He sighed in surrender. "Lacey—"
I put my hand against his chest. "Before you start the lecture, I just popped in there at lunch. And Lola was with me."
"Yes, that makes me feel much better because the two of you together are such solid, safety conscious decision makers."
"Thank you," I said politely.
"Maybe you missed the sarcasm in my tone," he suggested.
"Nope, I just decided to ignore it and take the whole thing as a compliment. Now, are you interested in my story? Daylight is disappearing fast."
"Yes, go ahead. And make it fast so you can get home. I want a text the second you get in the door."
I smiled. Admittedly, I'd been a little miffed about his sarcastic comment, but it was hard to stay mad at him. "We used the back door to get in the house. It was ajar and I was going to mention it to you because I thought it was rather sloppy of the evidence team but it turned out Margaret was inside the house."
I couldn't see his ears under his hat, but I was sure they perked up. "Really?"
"Yes, she was looking for the necklace. Turns out she yanked it off in a bit of drama, then regretted leaving it behind. I told her it was in evidence, which upset her, naturally, because then she was sure you were considering her a suspect."
"Which we are," he said.
I shot him a surprised look.
"No alibi, she was wandering around his house, apparently snooping in windows and she had motive. Although, admittedly it's a stretch. She seems like a sweet lady. But what about this photo? She didn't mention it."
"It was a picture of Lionel and Kate. Someone left it anonymously in her mailbox. The same person who was trying to warn Kate that Lionel was a cad."
Briggs motioned for me to climb on my bike. "I'll have to ask her for the photo and find out why she failed to mention it."
I threw my leg over. "I think she thought she'd be in trouble. She tore up the photo and the shreds were already picked up with the garbage."
"That won't be much help then."
"You should have your team search for photos at this crime scene. Maybe Glenda received one too."
"Good thinking, Sherlock." He leaned over and kissed me on the nose. "That little button is frozen solid. Hurry home and let me know the second you get in the door."
"I will." I blew him a kiss and took off toward Harbor Lane.