Myron nodded.

“Anyway, I talked to a guy who lives two houses down from the Culvers. He says he was walking his dog on the night in question. He wasn’t sure of the time, but he guessed it was eight o’clock or so. Seems he heard a big fight going on at the Culvers’ house. Major blowup. He said he’d never heard anything like that before. It was so bad he almost called the cops, but he didn’t want to pry. They’d been neighbors for twenty years and all. So he just let it slide.”

“Did he know what the fight was about?”

Jake shook his head. “Nope. Just loud voices. Adam’s and Carol’s.”

Myron sat quietly, still leaning back in his chair. Adam and Carol Culver had fought hours before Adam’s murder. Myron tried to put it together with what he already knew. For the first time things were beginning to fit.

“What else do you got?” Myron asked.

“On Adam Culver’s murder? Nothing.”

Silence.

“There were,” Jake continued, “a few hairs found at Nancy Serat’s murder scene. On the body itself. More specifically, clutched in Nancy’s hand.”

Myron sat up. “Like maybe she tore them off the killer?”

“Maybe,” Jake said. “But we checked the hairs at our own facilities and got a confirmation this morning at John Jay. There’s no question. The hairs belong to Kathy Culver.”

Myron felt his flesh turn to cold stone. He couldn’t speak.

“We had some of her hairs on file,” Jake continued. “From before. In case we ever found a body or wanted to check a location. Got them from her hairbrush at school. Both labs have done every comparison test conceivable. Neither one has any doubt. They’re Kathy’s hairs.”

Myron shook his head. He felt dizzy. Inside his head the Robot from Lost in Space was shouting “That does not compute!” over and over again.

“You have any thoughts on this, Myron?”

“Just the same ones you’re having.”

Jake nodded. “What Christian said.”

“ ‘Time for sisters to reunite,’ ” Myron quoted.

“Yup. Kinda takes on a whole new meaning now, don’t it.”

“But it still doesn’t explain anything,” Myron said. “Let’s assume Kathy Culver is alive. Let’s assume that Nancy Serat knows this. Why would Kathy kill her?”

Jake shrugged. “Sounds to me like Kathy may have gone off the deep end. I mean, first she’s got this whole weird past. Then she falls in love with a guy. Then she’s blackmailed. Then she’s gang-raped. Then the dean turns his back on her. She cracks. Has a breakdown. Runs away. Maybe she tells Nancy Serat, maybe she doesn’t. But somehow Nancy finds out. Nancy arranges a reunion—probably a surprise reunion—between sisters. Kathy gets there early. She’s not happy about Nancy’s surprise.”

“So she kills her?”

“Could be,” Jake said. “Kathy’s loony-tunes. She doesn’t want to be found. Shit, she probably killed her old man for the same reason. She’s nuts. Maybe she wants revenge for some reason. On her father, on her best friend—even on Christian and Dean Gordon and whoever else she sent that nutty magazine to.”

Didn’t feel right to Myron. “Then what about the big fight between Adam and Carol Culver? How does that fit in?”

“Hell if I know,” Jake said. “I’m making this shit up as I go along. Maybe the fight was just a coincidence. Maybe ol’ Adam was on edge because he was about to meet with his daughter. Maybe the mother knows more than she’s saying.”

Myron thought about it. It was confusing, but the last part made sense. Maybe Carol Culver did know more than she was saying. More than maybe. Myron even had some idea now of what she was hiding.

It was time to pay Carol Culver a visit.

Chapter 41

Myron pulled up in front of the familiar Victorian house on Heights Road in Ridgewood. He hesitated. He should have told Jessica about this, but there are things a woman might be more willing to tell a casual acquaintance than a daughter. This might be one of them.

Carol Culver answered the door. She was wearing an apron and those industrial rubber gloves. She smiled when she saw him, but the smile did not reach her eyes. “Hello, Myron.”

“Hello, Mrs. Culver.”

“Jessica isn’t home right now.”

“I know. I wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute.”

The smile stayed. But a shadow crossed over the face. “Come on in,” she said. “Can I get you something to drink? Maybe a little tea?”

“That would be nice.”

He stepped inside. He and Jessica had not visited here often during their time together. A major holiday or two, that was it. Myron never liked the house. Something about it was stifling, as though the air were too heavy for normal breathing.

He sat down on a couch that was hard as a park bench. The decor was solemn. Lots of religious memorabilia. Lots of madonnas and crosses and gold-leaf paintings. Lots of halos and serene faces looking skyward.

Two minutes later Carol reappeared, minus the gloves and apron, plus some tea and shortbread cookies. She was an attractive woman. She didn’t really look like her daughters, but Myron had seen pieces of her in both of them. Jessica’s straight posture. Kathy’s shy laugh.

“So how have you been?” she asked.

“Fine, thank you.”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you, Myron.”

“Yes.”

“Are you and Jessica …?” She feigned embarrassment. She did that a lot. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”

She poured the tea. Myron sipped it and nibbled on a cookie. Carol Culver did likewise.

“Tomorrow’s the memorial service,” she said. “Adam donated his corpse to a medical school, you know. The spirit was all that mattered to him. The body was worthless tissue. I guess that’s part of being a pathologist.”

Myron nodded, took another sip.

“Well, I just can’t believe this weather,” she rambled, a distracted smile frozen to her face. “It’s so hot out. If we don’t have rain soon, the whole front lawn will be brown. And we just paid to have it reseeded last season—”

“The police will be here soon,” Myron interrupted. “I thought we should talk first.”

She put her hand to her chest. “The police?”

“They’ll want to talk to you.”