Page 17 of One of Us Is Guilty

Cause of death could not be determined as the victim’s head was still missing. There was some bruising on the arms, consistent with some form of assault; a cut about an inch wide on the bottom of her left foot; and her head had been severed between C3 and C4 of the spinal cord. It was not a clean cut. Due to the rough, uneven nature of the lacerated skin of the throat, the medical examiner had determined that a saw blade of some kind had been used to remove the head.

In addition, there was bruising around the throat. It didn’t say in the report, but I guessed that could have been caused by the decapitation.

Harry and I read together.

When we’d finished, I threw the file down on the table and sat back.

‘A man did this,’ said Harry.

I nodded.

The door opened and a tall woman in a black coat walked in. She wore black pants, a cream silk blouse and a white cashmere scarf. Her long hair had once been a shock of blond, but she had allowed a little of her natural gray to come through it. It made her look older than she might first appear. Her skin showed no signs of wrinkles, nor of any surgical treatments.

‘Eddie Flynn?’ she asked.

We stood and shook hands, and she flashed a smile with rows of perfect white teeth. Same for Harry when I introduced him.

She knelt beside Clarence, gently stroked his head as he gazed up at her. She took longer with the dog than us. Then she smiled andsat opposite, crossing her legs. She wore Chanel perfume, although I couldn’t tell exactly which kind. I just remembered the scent, the same as my ex-wife used to wear.

‘He has a gorgeous face,’ she said, watching Clarence.

Vanessa Vanderpool waited for us to take the lead. She had the confidence and ease of the wealthy. When I didn’t say anything, I saw her eyes narrow toward us and her lips purse. She rested her chin on delicate fingers.

‘How are you?’ I asked.

‘It’s a difficult time, but we’re all working through it. How are you, Mr. Flynn?’

‘Please, it’s just Eddie and Harry. Do you know why we’re here?’ I asked.

‘Rex explained it’s better for me if the firm doesn’t represent both of us. He recommended you. I don’t have a problem either way, but Rex mentioned before you would take me on as a client you wanted to know if I did it?’

The way she said it, confident and earnest with a serious tone, she wasn’t making light of our request, no matter how unusual it might seem.

‘Rex is right. We don’t represent people who want to use us to evade justice.’

‘Not a very good business model for a criminal defense attorney.’

‘Maybe not, but we all sleep better in our moderately priced apartments. I can see you’re not one for idle talk. So let’s get to it – did you kill Molly Green?’

Her eyes flashed at me.

She looked at me straight.

‘I’m actually really glad that you asked this, and please, I didn’t mean to come across as flippant before. It’s so horrible what happened to that young woman. I’m not worried about the police, because I didn’t do anything wrong. But I know Rex wants me to be protectedand he’s probably right. Trust is very important to me. I want someone to represent me who truly believes in me. Someone who I can trust. So let me say it out loud for you – I didn’t kill Molly Green.’

I said nothing. I could feel Harry’s eyes on me.

‘Thank you, Mrs. Vanderpool,’ said Harry. ‘We understand the police are still carrying out investigations. What can you tell us about the victim?’

‘I hardly knew her. It’s so sad.’

‘When did you first meet Molly Green?’ Harry asked.

‘I think I met her briefly after she was hired. You should understand, initially Patrick ran his campaign from his office in mid-town. I only called in occasionally. When he ramped up the campaign and started working from home in the last six weeks, I saw her more often. We exchanged some pleasantries if we both happened to be in the kitchen at the same time, getting coffee or whatever. I sat in on some meetings where she took notes, but she was Patrick’s PA. I didn’t really know her. I’d be surprised if we ever spoke more than twenty words to each other in the whole time she was there.’

‘What was she like? What was your impression of her?’ I asked.

‘A hard worker. She was quiet. Did what was asked of her. Very organized, I recall. She always had an iPad in her hand, sorting out Patrick’s schedule. Jesus, she was so young. So smart and beautiful. It’s so tragic. I just can’t wrap my head around it.’