Frank grinned. “Hey, I live in New York. I may not be an expert on Poe, but I know my share of local history.”
“Okay, what’s your take on this theory?” Joe asked, leaning forward. “The killer is an opportunist. Thorne Bigelow needed to die. The killer didn’t want the finger of truth pointing back at him, so it had to look as if Thorne died for some reason other than the real one, so the killer left the note referencing Poe, even though he hadn’t done a very good job of making the murder fit any of Poe’s works. And maybe, almost by accident, Bigelow became the first in a series of killings. The killer happened to see Sam Latham on the FDR and figured if he took him out, it would really give credence to the Poe connection. He only landed Sam in the hospital, but it was still good enough for his purposes. Maybe too good. Lori Star sealed her own fate when she went on television, purporting to be a psychic and saying she knew what happened. He couldn’t have that, but luckily for him—or her—Lori was easy to get rid of. All he had to do was convince her that he was a reporter or a writer or something, and that he was ready to make her really famous. He demanded to meet her alone, and you know the rest. This time, though, he had time to make a big deal of the Poe connection. With Lori dead, he should have felt safe, but then he started thinking about Sam and whether he might start remembering more of what happened on the highway, so he took steps.”
“Someone tried to kill Sam? I didn’t see anything about that in the news.”
“You won’t. The police are hoping that keeping something secret will give them an edge in finding the killer.”
“What was the method?” Frank asked, his brow creasing.
“They’re pretty sure it was an overdose of morphine, administered by someone in hospital scrubs and a mask. And if he’d succeeded, I bet a note would have shown up, too. So what do you think about my theory?”
“It sounds pretty convincing, but at this point it’s only a theory, right? The police haven’t actually figured anything out, have they?”
“Not yet, no,” Joe admitted.
“And it could have started out as a random killing that escalated.”
“It can’t be random,” Joe said. “Thorne Bigelow let his killer in. That wasn’t random.”
“No.” Frank was quiet for a long moment. “You know, Joe, back then…the killer was never identified. There were theories, plenty of them. But no one ever went to trial.”
“I know. But this can’t end this way.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m afraid it won’t end at all if this guy isn’t stopped.” Joe stood up suddenly. “Thanks Frank.”
“For what? I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes, you did. You just made me focus on a really important question.”
“What’s that?”
“Exactly why did Thorne have to die?”
Genevieve paced in her apartment, feeling like a caged tiger.
She’d spent her life being active, taking steps to make the world a better place, not just attending charity functions and luncheons. She’d majored in social sciences, received a degree in psychology and another in social service. She’d worked the streets convincing hookers to quit working for two-bit pimps, and she’d gotten a lot of women real jobs. She knew how to keep herself safe on the streets. She’d only been kidnapped because she’d been taken unaware by someone she knew and had thought she could trust.
Just like Thorne Bigelow.
Who hadn’t survived.
She thought about Lori Star and suddenly felt the urge to know her better.
It was a bit too late to get to know the woman herself, but there were other ways to find out more about her. Of course, Joe would be furious if she went out, investigating on her own.
Screw Joe. He certainly wasn’t consulting her about his plans.
She grabbed her keys and hurried out, but she didn’t take her car. Downstairs, she greeted the doorman, and asked him to hail her a cab. At Lori Star’s building, she exited and walked up the three flights of steps.
There was crime-scene tape on Lori’s door, but she hadn’t come to see the apartment. She strode over to Susie’s door.
Before she could knock, it opened and Susie, her face swollen, peered out, looked around warily, then quickly drew Gen inside.
“Sorry for acting so hush-hush. The press keep coming around, even though they’re not supposed to be able to get into the building,” Susie said.
“Oh? No one stopped me,” Genevieve said.
“I guess most of the cops have cleared away. And maybe whoever is down there decided you didn’t look like a reporter.”
“I guess.”
Gen didn’t think the police were actually watching the building at all anymore. She didn’t tell Susie so, but she suspected the reporters probably thought they’d gotten all they could from the neighbors.