Criminal

The man murdered my sister. You can’t prove otherwise.”
    “I can prove what a lazy pig you are.”
    He gave her a sharp look. “Where do you—”
    “You gave this envelope to your girl to type.”
    He glanced at his wife, but Elizabeth was staring at Amanda. She was smiling again, but there was no warmth in her expression.
    Amanda asked, “Do you see your name typed above the Treadwell-Price logo?” She turned the Bible so Henry could see it. “That’s what you’re supposed to do when you send out a business correspondence. They teach you that in secretarial school.”
    “My secretary passed away years ago.”
    “I’m sorry for your loss.” She turned the Bible back around. “The thing about those old typewriters—and you wouldn’t know this—is the rollers were heavy. If you weren’t careful, you could pinch your fingers between them.”
    Henry straightened the nail clippings on the table. He used the tips of his fingers to move them around. “Again, I ask for your point.”
    “The point is, you had to line up the envelope just right so the address wouldn’t come out crooked. Sometimes you had to twist the envelope back and forth between the rollers to get it straight. It’s almost like an old printing press, where you turn the screw to press the ink onto the sheet of paper. Do you still use a fountain pen?”
    Henry froze. He finally seemed to get it.
    “The ink wasn’t dry when you put the check inside.” Amanda carefully pinched open the paper. “So, when your girl pressed the envelope between those two heavy rollers, the ink on the check transferred to the inside of the envelope. This envelope.” She smiled. “Your name. Your signature. Your money paid to the order of Herman Centrello, the defense attorney working for the man who murdered your sister.”
    Henry took out his nail clippers again. “That’s hardly a smoking gun.”
    “He kept it all these years,” Amanda said. “But Ulster was like that, wasn’t he?”
    “How should I know what—”
    “He didn’t care about the money. It was a means to an end. He lived to control people. I bet every time he opened this Bible, all he could think about was how easily one word to the right snitch, one phone call to the right lawyer, could turn your world upside down.”
    “You have no proof that—”
    “You licked the envelope flap to seal the letter, didn’t you, Hank? I don’t imagine you’d let your girl do that for you. She might wonder why you’re sending such a sizable check to another law firm, care of the man looking to be sent away for murdering your sister.” She smiled. “It must’ve galled you to have to lick your own envelope. How many times has that happened over the years?”
    Henry looked frightened, then angry. “You don’t have my DNA to compare.”
    “Don’t I?” Amanda leaned forward. “Were you ever scratched, Hank? Did Jane scratch you on the arm or chest while you were strangling her?”
    He stood up so fast the chair fell over. “I’d like for you to leave now. Wilbur, I’m sorry you’ve entangled yourself with this—” He cast about for a word. “Lunacy.”
    Will unbuttoned his collar. The room was suffocating.
    Amanda took off the glove. “You worked out a deal with Ulster, didn’t you, Hank? He got what he wanted. You got what you wanted.”
    “I’m calling the police.” He walked to his desk. His hand rested on the phone. “Out of deference to Wilbur, I’m giving you one last opportunity to leave.”
    “All right.” Amanda took her time standing. She straightened her sling. She lugged her purse onto her shoulder. But she didn’t head directly for the door. First, she stopped by Henry’s overturned chair. She took the fingernail clippings off the side table.
    Henry demanded, “What are you doing?”
    “I always wondered about Jane. She wasn’t killed like the other girls. She didn’t have the marks on her body. She was strangled and beaten. You tried to make it look like a suicide, but you were too stupid to know that we could tell the difference.”
    Henry didn’t speak. He eyed the fingernails in Amanda’s hand.
    “Jane was telling anyone who would listen about the missing girls. So you used Treadwell’s name to pull some strings down at the station house. You thought Jane would be afraid of the police.”
    “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    “You’ve never understood women, have you, Hank? All you did was piss Jane off and make her talk