In Death 22 - Memory in Death

slice of pizza in one hand, she waved toward her board with the other. “Appearance, basic evidence points to intruder entering through the window, bashing her, exiting the same way. As there
    are no defensive wounds whatsoever, investigator would assume she probably knew her killer, or
    didn’t believe she was in jeopardy. Now, somebody pounds on you one day, you’re going to be a little concerned next time he pops around.”
    “Not if those initial injuries were self-inflicted.”
    “Yeah, but you don’t know thatwhy would you think that when you find the body? The killer had
    to be aware of at least the facial injury. It’s right there. And the same weapon was used. So we go back over it, with that data, and we have the murder being set to look like she was killed by whoever tuned
    her up.”
    She took a huge bite of pizza, savored the spice. “We got the killer using the previous injuries as smoke. That’s not bad. Not bad at all. It’s good thinking, just like taking her ‘link was good thinking.”
    “Exploiting the victim’s greed and violent impulses.”
    “Yeah. But there’s little things that blow that. Again, no defensive wounds. No indication she was bound when she was beaten, and no sign that she attempted, in any way, to fight back or shield herself. Doesn’t wash. Then you add the angles of the bruising. Comes up self-inflicted.”
    “Which moves you to a different arena.”
    “Exactly. Then there’s the crime scene itself, the position of the body, andTOD.”
    “Time of death.”
    “Yeah, somebody strange comes in the window middle of the night and you can get out of bed, you run and you scream. She didn’t do either. So the killer came through the door. She let the killer in.”
    “The window’s still viable. If indeed she and her partner were having differences, he may have chosen
    to come in that way rather than risk her not letting him in.”
    “The window was locked. That’s the thing about memory. It’s tricky.” She took another bite of pizza, washed it down. “It’s the thing about having a cop on an investigation who knew the victimwho, once that memory gets poked, clearly recalls how the victim always locked every door, every window. The world was full of thieves and rapists and bad business, according to the Bible of Trudy. Even during the day, when we were in the house, it was locked like a vault. I’d forgotten that. She’s not going to leave a window unlocked in big, bad New York. It’s out of character.”
    “She lets the killer in,” he prompted. “Late-night visit.”
    “Yeah. Late. And she doesn’t bother to put on a robe. She had one in the closet, but she doesn’t bother with it and entertains her killer while wearing her nightgown.”
    “Indicating a certain level of intimacy. A lover?”
    “Maybe. Can’t dismiss it. She kept herself in tune. Face and body work. I can’t remember any guys,”
    Eve murmured, trying to look back into the past again. “It was only about six months I was there, but
    I don’t remember any guys coming around, or her going out with any.”
    “From then to now would indicate a very long dry spell.”
    “Can’t rule out a booty call,” Eve continued, “but I went over the list of her possessions, everything
    she had in that room: no sex toys, no sexy underwear, no condoms or any shields against STDs. Still, could be a long-term relationshipI’m not finding indications, but could be. Not a partner, though. Not
    on equal terms.”
    “No?”
    “She had to be in charge. She had to give the orders. She liked telling people what to do and liked watching them do it. Look at her pathologytake her employment record. Scores of jobs over the
    years, none lasting long. She didn’t take orders, she gave them.”
    “So, in her mind, fostering was perfect.” Roarke nodded. “She’s the boss, she’s in charge. Total authority.”
    “She’d think,” Eve agreed. “She was cruising toward sixty, and no marriages on record. Only one
    official cohab. No, she wasn’t a team player. Partnership wouldn’t work for her. So maybe she tagged
    this individual on her ‘link.Get over here, we need to talk. She’s had some wine, some meds. Probably just enough to be floaty and full of herself.”
    “Another reason she might not have taken as much care as she might have otherwise.”
    Eve nodded. “She’s relaxed, medicated. And she’s figuring on squeezing you for the two million. She’s cracked her own face for it.