“And he also knew before it was made public that Sara had not killed herself. That it was murder. Did you give someone a heads-up on that?”
Shoemaker said, “Brad Cowl is a very important guy in this town. He’s been very generous with certain people at NYPD and City Hall. I’m not saying any heads-up came from there, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it did.”
Ekman interjected, “But from what you said, Cowl might have done Stamos himself.”
“He might have. There might not have been time to hire a gun. By the way, how did she die?”
Ekman glanced at Shoemaker. “It goes no further, Devine.”
“It won’t.”
“The killer drugged her, then tied her to her bed, and then carved the word bitch on her belly. She bled out.”
Devine felt the little breakfast he’d eaten start to come back up on him. He bent forward and stared at the floorboard, his breathing short and choppy. After about thirty seconds he sat up straight and looked at the two men.
Shoemaker almost appeared sympathetic. “Yeah, I know,” he said quietly. “Pretty sick.”
“Was Stamos pregnant?”
“No, that’s what we thought, too. ME confirmed that she wasn’t,” replied Ekman.
“So why do it . . . that way?”
“It was to send a message, is what I’m thinking. What that message was, who knows.”
“And no one saw anything?” asked Devine.
“Nope. We’ve checked. That late on a weekday in that neighborhood, not surprising. We think the killer got in through a window in the back. Stamos was on the first floor. No signs of a struggle. Same with the Eweses. They were probably dead asleep.” Ekman blanched. “Sorry, bad choice of words.”
“So, the Ewes family got wiped out,” said Shoemaker thoughtfully. “Which seemed to be the killer’s intent. But why? Why did they have to die? They just got to the country. What possible beef could someone have with them? Is it just the connection with their daughter?”
“And her connection to Brad Cowl?” added Ekman. “If he is involved in some crooked money scheme, and maybe Sara Ewes found out? They could have been afraid that she had told her parents something.”
“I was thinking that, too, but now I seriously doubt that actually happened,” said Devine. “She was estranged from her parents. They were Christian missionaries, and I don’t think they would have had any interest in or understanding of any part of Sara’s world.”
“You mean her and Stamos being a thing, like you told us before?”
“Yes. Her mother was not in favor of same-sex couples and made no secret of it.”
“But how could someone even know that? They just got to New York.”
“Well, I found out just by being around her for a few minutes. And she thought her daughter was a slut sleeping around outside of marriage.”
Shoemaker said, “We seem to be going in circles. If all these deaths aren’t connected to the Cowl business, what then?”
Devine thought back to the emails he had gotten. The one that not even the likes of Will Valentine could trace, and he didn’t know if Campbell’s people would have better luck. Although he was hoping Tapshaw, and her magical fingers, could do the trick.
Was the killer trying to let me know that I’m involved in all this? Do they blame me for what happened to Sara and Jennifer? Who would have that sort of grudge against me? What have I done?
He debated on whether to share this with the detectives, but decided not to. It would just piss them off that he had withheld such evidence. And they were getting along so well right now.
“You said the Eweses were stabbed in the heart?”
“Right through, yeah. Why?” asked Shoemaker.
“The heart symbolizes emotions, beliefs, feelings.”
“So?” said Ekman.
“I don’t know. Just thinking out loud. Maybe the killer murdered each person in ways to symbolize the reason why they were killed.”
Ekman and Shoemaker exchanged another, interested glance.
“Sara Ewes was hanged. What does that symbolize?” asked Ekman.
“Well,” said Devine, “in the past, they used to hang traitors.”
So when does my turn come?