Page 72 of Justice for Francesca

“You tripped my brain. There was something I was trying to come up with, but I couldn’t remember. Your movie comment flipped it.”

“You’re welcome?” he replied. “What did I flip?”

“My brain’s light switch.” She turned to face the two men. “Have either of you ever seen the movieThe A.B.C. Murders?” Both men shook their heads, a look of puzzlement on their faces. “Ever read Agatha Christie?” Again, negative shakes. “When I was resting the other day, I picked up a copy ofMurder on the Orient Express. I hadn’t read it since I was a kid. We had every one of her books in my house. Mom was a fiend for them, so we all read them at some point or other in our childhood. Christie was the master of red herrings in her murder mysteries.”

“Okay, so what?”

“The A.B.C. Murdersis probably either her second or third most popular book, and it involves an intricate plot that is eerily similar to what we have going on here. What if none of our murders were linked?”

“What do you mean? Of course they’re linked. They’re all connected to the club.”

Francesca began to pace, her hands waving as she spoke. “Think like a murderer for a minute. The crime is rarely about who. It’s always aboutwhy. The who is just an unfortunate byproduct of the why. The fact that all three of the victims were connected in some way to Elysium is our only connection, and it’s a surface-level one at that. What if they had no larger connection than that?”

She looked at Cruz. He considered her theory. “You’re saying it was just an easy hunting ground.”

“Not easy. Necessary,” Francesca said. “These women were convenient. Yes, he targeted them, but the only thing they needed to be was attached to Elysium. They were red herrings. Any employees would have worked in the long run.”

“Hello! In the dark here!” Calder called out.

Francesca explained, “A red herring is a common conceit in mystery novels. It’s a purposeful distraction by the author. Shyamalan used the concept inThe Sixth Sense. The author purposefully distracts the reader or viewer, leading them astray, and often down an incredibly convoluted path when really the answer is very simple.

“Usually, I know who the murderer is within ten minutes, so I don’t read mysteries or watch them on TV or movies anymore. Shyamalan’s movie, though, is the only movie that’s ever fooled me, and it reminded me of Christie’s books.” Her gaze went inward as she talked. “They both hid their solutions so publicly.”

Whirling around to Cruz, she pointed at him. “If you want to hide a wolf in a field of sheep?—”

“You don’t let the wolf look like itself. You disguise it as a sheep.”

“And if you want to distract someone?” Francesca continued the storyline with Calder.

“Create misdirection, in this case, by putting other actual wolves in the field. Maybe even kill a sheep and make it look like one of them killed it.”

They all paused to look at one another.

“Exactly, and the more misdirections, the better. Or, in this case, a specific murder was hidden inside a series of murders.”

Cruz stood, hands on hips, looking at the whiteboard. Across the top were three pictures—Mila, Jessa, and Tilly—the three victims in order. “This whole thing is a copycat crime based on fiction?”

“I think so, yes. Crazy, but I’d bet my credentials on it.”

“So you’re thinking that only one of the murders is the real one, which is why we’re having such trouble connecting them. The murderer hid the real victim amongst other victims to make it tougher to catch him.” He raised his eyebrows and gave a single head tilt to the right, pursing his lips and blowing out air. “Seems like a lot of work.”

“Not really. If the victims are random, the hardest part is reeling in the victim, which for our man probably wasn’t all that difficult. Mila did business with a lot of people in real estate through her uncle. Pretend to be a buyer. Jessa had a dominatrix business. Pose as a client. Tilly—” Francesca paused, a pang in her chest. She swallowed, then continued, “She did a lot of different jobs at the club. He could have met her disguised as a patron.”

“If we go with that premise, we’ve got Mila, Jessa, and Tilly. Which one is the ‘real’ murder?” Cruz asked.

“Maybe none of them,” Francesca said softly.

Cruz frowned. “What do you mean?”

“What if the order is missing a body?”

“I’m not tracking.”

“What if there was supposed to be a murder, but the murder didn’t happen? What if the order was Mila, Jessa,Michael, Tilly? If someone was hiding in that house before I got there, and if Michael really was a somewhat permanent resident before their breakup, whoever attacked would likely have known that. Michael had shown up there several nights, according to the tip we got. If they were hunting Michael, they might have known he was going to return there again, going after whatever he was searching for. I showed up almost immediately inside after him. What if they didn’t have time to act because I interrupted?”

Cruz stared at her. Then he looked at Calder, and after a weighty look, both gazed at her. “Or what if Michael wasn’t the intended victim that night?” Cruz asked.

“Who else would it have been? It was only me and Michael in the house that night.” Her eyes went wide with shock as soon as she said it. “There’s no way the murderer could have known I’d be there that night.”

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