Invasion of Privacy

we needed Andrew’s car for the bodies.”
    Until those words, I’d hoped I was wrong about that part.
    Stepanian wiggled his right foot, as if he had a kink in the ankle. “Your version of what happened was really quite accurate. Very impressive, but also very... threatening to us, as you said before. After Lana told me about your first visit here and your peculiar questions, we were concerned. And then when we heard Andrew ranting and raving about being ‘investigated,’ we knew that he and his ‘ladyfriend,’ as you called her, had to take a ‘trip.’ Unfortunately, Lana can’t drive a stick shift, so that left it to me to take the Porsche. Quite a machine, actually. I’m sorry I couldn’t have enjoyed the experience a little more.
    Lana said, “I followed Steven to Boston , where I parked our car and rode with him to the airport. Then, after we left the Porsche in the terminal lot, like you said, we took a cab back to our car and drove home.”
    Like a den mother, explaining the logistics for her troop’s last scout trip.
    I needed more than wanted the answer to my next question. “How did you kill them?”
    “It was rather easy, actually,” said Steven. “We keep a gun here—Lana, show him our gun, would you?”
    She reached under the cushion on her chair, coming up with a small semiautomatic in her hand.
    Steven nodded toward it. “Nothing showy, just for home defense. But effective enough. On Thursday night, Lana went knocking next door, supposedly with a question about the condo association. Andrew answered her knock and started to say he didn’t really have time just then. The sight of me behind Lana, pointing our gun at his head, seemed to change his mind. With the four of us in the living room, his ladyfriend became quite nervous. Fortunately, I thought to search Andrew, much as Lana just did you. And what did I find but this revolver? Andrew wasn’t very coherent—I imagine the stress of the situation was wearing on him—but he tried to talk us out of killing the two of them, offering us cash. It turned out to be... Lana?”
    “More than sixteen thousand dollars, dear.”
    Steven’s expression was almost rueful. “When the money didn’t do the trick, the poor devil even trotted out some cock-and-bull story about being in the Witness Protection Program.”
    “He was telling you the truth.”
    Steven squinted at me. “No.”
    “Yes. Dees was planted here.” I turned to Lana. “Your C.W. Realty Trust stands for ‘Cooperating Witness.’ Basically, the feds own the complex.”
    Lana looked to her husband, who was frowning at first, then smiling. The first I’d seen of it, his teeth tiny, like his sister’s and at the same time like a child’s.
    Steven’s head wagged slowly. “Ironic, isn’t it?”
    “Ironic?”
    “Yes. All the time we lived next door to him, Andrew was lying, and we believed him. Then, as we’re about to kill him, the man tells us the truth, and we think he’s lying.”
    Very quietly, I said, “The killings happened in Dees’ unit, then?”
    “Yes. Oh, we made up our own cock-and-bull story, telling them we had to ‘get away,’ so would you both please just go upstairs into the bathroom and we’ll lock the door and then give us an hour...” More head wagging.
    I said, “What did you tell them you had to get away from?”
    Lana broke in. “They never asked.”
    I turned to her.
    She shrugged. “I think they were so frightened—and also so relieved, from what you’ve told us, that we weren’t whoever Andrew ‘cooperated’ against—that they believed us without really caring about our reasons.”
    Steven said, “They wanted to believe us. You could see it in their eyes. They wanted so very much to believe that once they were in the bathroom, we were going to let them live.”
    Quietly again. “But you didn’t.”
    He got indignant. “We’ve never killed anyone we didn’t have to. For whatever reason, that ladyfriend started you investigating about us, invading our privacy.”
    Lana said, “We’re not monsters, Mr. Cuddy. We simply love each other.” An affectionate glance toward her brother. “We always have.” Then back to me with, “Only people wouldn’t think we were normal if they knew. They’d report us, like my roommate or our parents were going to.”
    “Or just discover the truth,” I said, “like Yale Quentin, and maybe try to... use it?”
    Steven shook his head. “He never got that far. We don’t gossip or