Spiral

Cuddy, but it was not discovered until I collapsed during a soccer game my senior year of college.”
    I glanced up at the wall of knives. ”Is that when you began collecting?”
    Tranh followed my eyes. ”Yes, though not all of those are merely decorative.” He pointed toward a matched trio of quarter-moons about a foot long each, made of something like tungsten steel, with different diameter circular holes in the handles. ”Those, for example, are for throwing.”
    ”Which doesn’t hurt your heart?”
    ”Mr. Cuddy, we can learn to live with all kinds of limitations.”
    ”And you help Colonel Helides live with his.”
    A pause, like Tranh was measuring something on the inside before responding. ”The Colonel has not been lucky in the children his first wife bore him. Spiro—the one who calls himself ‘Spi’—came back to his father only when money was needed. David has never been able to leave.”
    The Skipper had mentioned that in the pool area. ”Why?”
    ”Why does David still live with us?”
    ”Yes.”
    Another measured pause. ”David is chronically, clinically depressed, Mr. Cuddy. He has never been able to... function normally in the world. So, we—and now I—must take care of him.”
    Interesting, but maybe more interesting was the way Tranh identified with Helides in the royal ”we” format. ”David’s under a doctor’s care?”
    ”Yes, a psychiatrist. More so now.”
    ”Now?”
    ”Since Veronica’s death. Even with Dr. Forbes at the party, David was very upset by the incident, and by the police interrogating him afterward.”
    ”I don’t recall Colonel Helides mentioning this doctor as one of the guests.”
    ”Since his stroke, the Colonel does not always remember every detail.”
    As I thought about that, Tranh said, ”If you wish to see David’s psychiatrist, it can be arranged.”
    ”What about patient confidentiality?”
    ”The Colonel can pierce that.”
    I wouldn’t bet against it. ”Mr. Tranh, what do you think happened here that day?”
    A long stare, the man gauging something that required a string of discreet measurements. ”I believe that someone Very carefully planned the killing of a very difficult girl.”
    ”Difficult how?”
    ”Perhaps it would be best for us to start with the ‘careful Plan’ first.”
    I decided to let him have his head. ”Whatever you think best.”
    Duy Tranh rose gracefully from the armchair. ”Come.”

    * * *

    ”The Colonel refers to this as ‘Central Control.’”
    We had walked back downstairs and now stood outside a solid-looking door, Tranh fishing another key from his pocket. He used it on a lock about a foot above the knob.
    As the door swung open, you might have thought you’d stumbled into a television studio. Monitors ringed the level just below the ceiling, several chairs and desktop machines positioned at various angles. The monitor screens showed different intersections of the house, both interior and exterior.
    I said, ”The video cameras must be pretty well camouflaged.”
    ”Because you did not notice them?”
    A subtle challenge there. ”Partly. They record as well as display?”
    ”Usually.” Tranh passed his hand over a vertical stack of VCRs.
    I moved toward them. ”Meaning, not always.”
    ”The Colonel has already explained to you about his acceding to Kalil’s request.”
    ”On the interior locations. But only because Veronica insisted.”
    ”Yes.”
    Again nonjudgmental in tone, though the curtness of his response seemed to carry Tranh’s seal of disapproval. I said, ”How about the exterior cameras?”
    ”All functioning perfectly.”
    ”And showing nothing unusual during the party?”
    ”Correct.”
    I glanced back at the door Tranh had opened for us. ”This room kept locked?”
    ”Unless someone is inside it, as we are now.”
    ”And who has access?”
    ”If you mean by key, I have one, the security staff—Mr. Jack Byrne and Mr. Umberto Reyes—each were given one, and of course the Colonel has his own.”
    ”So somebody with a key—or access to one —could have tampered with the external video stations.”
    A slight shrug. ”Yes, but not with the tapes recorded from each.”
    ”Because?”
    Tranh glanced at the stack of VCRs. ”Each camera is chronometered by day, date, and military time. None of the videos had been altered, according to the police, who told us they examined each rather carefully.”
    ”So the external ones show—”
    ”—precisely what our