Page 27 of A Talent for Murder

“Meaning she wouldn’t have willfully gone out on the balcony in the first place.”

“Okay.”

“At least that was what Travis Nixon said. He was convincing. I thought he was going to be someone who just couldn’t accept the fact that his wife might have been suicidal, but that’s not how he came off at all.”

“But if she was deathly afraid of heights it’s like what you said: She might not have gone out on the balcony at all. How did someone get here out there?”

“Oh, there’s my exit. Sorry, I’m driving.”

“Should we talk later?”

“No, this is fine. Yes, I’ve thought about that, the balcony thing. It gives us insight into what kind of killer your husband is, if he even is a killer. I’d wondered if he was someone who compulsively cheated on you and was then consumed by guilt and lashed out at the women. That killing them was a way of punishing the act, and that would make sense with the bludgeoning deaths. But if he got Josie Nixon onto a balcony when she was afraid of heights, and he did it without any force, then that meant he talked her into it. I can kind of imagine it, him saying something like, ‘You have to come out here and see the stars. Just don’t look down,’ et cetera. And then he throws her off. It would mean he wasn’t in some kind of fit of homicidal mania—he was calm, and it was premeditated. How are you doing with all this?”

“I’m okay, just listening.”

“Maybe I’m making too many leaps, as well?”

“No, you’re okay. You’re speculating. And if he’s doing this, he’s incredibly good at it. He doesn’t leave any evidence behind at all, and the crimes he commits don’t fit a recognizable pattern. The deaths are different enough that no one would connect them. So what do we do now?”

“Can I call you back? I might be lost.”

Martha paced some more, thinking. She went and stood at the rear door at the back of the kitchen, looking through its glass panes into her backyard. An unchanging view, except that it had changed. Her life had changed. There was before she knew who her husband really was, and now there was only after. And the rest of her life would be spent in the after. She told herself that for right now, her only job was to find out the truth. She didn’t have to do it alone. She had Lily. And when she did find out the truth, then she would make sure that Alan was put away for good. And then what? Then she’d have been the wife of a serial killer, the stupid librarian who didn’t know who her husband really was. A panic rose in her, and she shut it down. It didn’t matter what other people thought. Her mission now was finding out who Alan really was. Soon she’d talk some more with Lily. They’d form a plan. And then she’d greet her husband on his return, and make sure he didn’t suspect a thing.

As she walked back into the living room, with a yogurt from the fridge, her phone rang.

“I’m home,” Lily said. “How are you since we talked?”

“I’m good,” Martha said. “We just need to do what we need to do.”

“Right. Tell me again when Alan leaves for his next trip.”

“He’s going to Saratoga Springs on Monday morning. I can look it up, but I think it’s a math and science conference.”

“I’m going to go to that conference,” Lily said.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to go to Saratoga Springs. I need to at least look at him, Martha, maybe get a sense if he’s on the make or not. And I need to keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t hurt someone. I won’t take risks.”

Martha couldn’t think what to say.

Lily said, “I’ll follow him. If I see anything suspicious at all, I’ll call the police right away.”

“You promise?” Martha said.

“Yes. The moment I think he’s up to something bad, I’m calling him in. I’ll lie if I have to. It won’t necessarily get him arrested, but I’ll stop him from hurting anyone else. That’s the most important thing, right?”

“I agree, I’m just... I don’t know what I am.”

“Look, I’ll be careful. But we need to know for sure, don’t you think?”

“But what if he just attends the conference, sells his T-shirts, then goes to bed early each night?”

“Then we’ll know a little bit more about him.”

“Okay,” Martha said. Then, “Oh shit.”

“What?”

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