A good start.
Turning on the machine, Mallory said, „Now, let’s go for a ride.“ She picked up her pencil and watched the scrolling lines, asking, „Did you ever kill anyone? Yes or no.“
„Yes.“
Mallory consulted the spikes on the scrolling paper, making notes here and there. „You were very calm the night we came to your house, but now your heart is beating way too fast. Is the burglar the only man you ever killed?“
Nedda’s voice was not much above a whisper, asking, „What does this have to do with the – “
„ Yes, or no. If I knew your total body count, would I be impressed?“
Charles sank low in his chair. „I think I prefer the dark old days of thumbscrews and the rack. Does Mallory understand that she’s reading signs of stress – not guilt? Just being in the same room with her is enough to – “
„She knows,“ said Riker. „With a little preparation, a brain-dead Girl Scout can beat the box. But you can tell the truth and still fail the exam.“
„So it’s totally useless. Why would – “
„Nedda’s our only lead. We sent the Maine cops to Susan McReedy’s house to ask a few questions and check out her story. Seems the lady disappeared. Nedda’s all we got left.“ This was not entirely true. The last resort would be Bitty Smyth, who would lawyer up immediately. And then they would lose their leverage over the woman on the other side of the glass.
„I know you like Nedda Winter,“ said Charles. „Why can’t you do the interrogation instead of Mallory?“
„No,“ said Riker, „I could never do what she’s gonna do.“
Mallory turned off the machine. „This looks bad for you. I can’t help you if you hold out on me. So we have to clarify your response. Right now, all I know for sure is that the burglar wasn’t your first kill.“
The detective leaned far back in her chair. No need to consult the machine – Nedda Winter’s face said it all. The woman had just been assaulted with no bruising, no blood loss. All the pain was in her eyes, the mouth half open, hands clenching.
„So let’s clear up that previous death. Suppose you had an accident, ran somebody down in a car. That would explain the readings I see on this machine. Give me the circumstances, and then I can eliminate the last question.“ Nedda was flailing, arms raising, wires dangling from her body parts. She looked at her right hand, mechanized now, and she was horrified.
„All right.“ Mallory turned the machine on. „Let’s take an easy question, a throwaway. The other night at the dinner party, I understand your niece gave you an old pack of tarot cards. She said they were yours. Was that true?“
„You’ve been talking to Charles Butler.“ Nedda turned to the mirror. „Is he there now? Bitty said she’d picked him for the neutral observer.“
Charles turned to Riker. „When were you going to tell me that?“
„Never. No reason to. If Bitty hadn’t made you a condition of the test, Mallory would’ve asked you to come. The key word here is neutral. You’re Switzerland, Charles.“
„The hell I am.“
„Next question,“ said Mallory, „another easy one. Have you been reading tarot cards for a long time?“
„Yes. Wait.“ Nedda Winter erased her answer, wiping the air with both hands. „I mean… no. That was so long ago. I was a child the last time I saw that deck.“
„A child? Was this before the massacre?“
Nedda looked up in dumb surprise. Her mouth opened to speak, but she had no words.
„Did you get your tarot deck before the Winter House Massacre? Yes, or no“ Mallory drummed her nails on the table. „What’s the problem, Miss Winter? Too many murders? I’m talking about one massacre, your father, your stepmother, five small children, the nanny and the housekeeper – nine people. Did you get that tarot deck before they – “
„No!“ Nedda lowered her voice to a whisper. „No.“
Mallory switched off the machine. „All right. You didn’t hold out on that one, but now I’ve got another problem.“ She waited a beat, then asked, „Why did you come home again?“
The woman looked down at her hands, her head slowly moving from side to side.
The machine was switched on again. „Are you telling me it wasn’t your idea?“ She glanced at the readings, though she had no need of them since she already knew the answer. „That’s it, isn’t it? Someone else brought you home. Was it Lionel Winter?“ Mallory made a note below a spiking line. „No, not him. Was it Cleo Winter-Smyth? No. I’m getting odd responses here, Nedda. Your brother and sister – they didn’t welcome you back, did they?“ The spikes on the scrolling paper were climbing. „Not a very warm reception?“
Nedda shook her head. No, it was not.
And now Mallory leaned far forward. „Was it your niece? Did Bitty Smyth bring you home?“ The detective’s head dropped closer to the machine as she made the next notation. „Yes, it was Bitty.“ Mallory looked up. „And where did she find you?“
„In a hospice. No, wait. I’m sorry. The nursing home – I think. I wasn’t very clearheaded then. I was moved into a nursing home after a diagnosis of end-stage cancer. The hospice was the last place. I was taken there to die.“
„But you weren’t dying, and you knew it – even if your doctors didn’t.
Nobody comes back from the end stage. So, before the nursing home, you were in a hospital?“
Nedda nodded her head.
„But not a regular hospital, not a place where they would’ve cut you open to look for a malignancy. No expensive tests. Maybe a state asylum with a clinic? Nothing else fits, Nedda. A real hospital would’ve gone looking for that cancer. Did you want to die? Was that it? An asylum is junkie heaven – all those drugs. Did you steal medication from other patients? Is that why you had yellow skin and odd results in your blood work?“
Nedda nodded.
„How did Bitty Smyth know where to find you?“
Nedda looked up, genuinely curious, as if she had never considered this problem before. „A private investigator, I think.“
„No,“ said Mallory. „That doesn’t work for me. It’s a country of three hundred million people, six million square miles.“ The detective unfolded a dust jacket from one of the pulp books written about the murders at Winter House. It was illustrated with the Red Winter painting. „Do you see any resemblance between you and this little girl? No, even old family photographs wouldn’t have helped to find you. Don’t you wonder what Bitty’s hiding? Why would your niece zero in on the state of Maine? She was working with insider information, knowledge she could only get from her family. You know what this means? Your sister and your brother always knew where you were.“
Nedda moved her head from side to side.
„And they let you rot,“ said Mallory. „Do they hate you that much? They never wanted you back. Why? Do they believe that you slaughtered their family – parents, sisters, brothers? Do they want you dead?“