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That evening, Joel Timperley was working late as he often did, poring over projections for the coming fiscal quarter and going over some of the designs for the New Jersey mall, when he got a call on his mobile. He picked up with a casual,“Joel,” and listened for a moment, then said, “Drop by the office, if you don’t mind. I’ll be here at least until ten.”

After he hung up, he got up from behind his desk and wandered over to the model for the first mall the Timperleys ever built, and marveled at the progress they’d made over the years. That first mall was still the cornerstone of their retail empire, even though in comparison to the New Jersey mall, which would be the newest addition, it was small. Outdated, even. But he had grand plans for the Keystone Mall. He’d recently applied for an extension thatwould almost double its size, and add another few dozen stores. His granddad, if he were still alive today, would be proud, he was sure of it.

He glanced up when the elevator dinged, and his visitor joined him.

“Glad you could make it,” he said. “I was just going over some of the designs for the new—” But then he caught sight of the small shiny object in his visitor’s hand.

There was a flash, and the shiny object suddenly lodged in his chest.

And as he gasped for air, he realized it was a knife, and he’d just been stabbed.

But then he toppled over, smashing the Keystone Mall model as he did.

Chapter 21

It rarely happens that the Keystone Mall closes, but today seemed to be one of those days. Of course there was a perfectly good reason: one of the cleaners who had arrived early that morning to start her working day had been happily scrubbing along, when all of a sudden she’d given the Zeus display a closer look and had discovered that a new figure had been added to the setup. Next to Zeus and his mortal enemy Dr. Ghoul a third figure had suddenly popped up, dressed in the kind of stretchy lycra outfit with added cape that seems to be all the rage with superheroes old and new, only this particular figure wasn’t made of plastic, like the others, but was an actual living human being.

Though the living part was moot, since Joel Timperley was very obviously very dead.

The woman had screamed so loud her supervisor had come running, figuring there had been either a breakin or she’d seen a ghost. That or she’d used the wrong kind of detergent and had left spots on the marble floor.

Soon the police had arrived, along with an ambulance, but when the owner of the Keystone Mall had been declared dead, the mall had been closed down for the time being and all personnel had been gathered in the canteen to be interviewed one by one.

Not that they’d been able to provide a lot of useful information.

“So what have you got for us?” asked Chase as he stepped onto the scene.

“Single stab wound to the heart,” said Abe Cornwall as he climbed down from the exhibit with some effort. “Very precise and very effective.”

“Knife?”

“Looks like it. That or some other sharp instrument. I’ll have to examine the wound more closely to be sure. Not a single drop of blood,” the coroner continued, studying the body with a puzzled look on his round face, “so I doubt whether he was killed here.”

“Killed elsewhere and dragged here, you think?”

“That would be my guess, yes. But as I said, I’ll know more later.”

“Time of death?”

“Sometime last night. I’d say between ten and midnight.”

“That’s the third bachelor in two days,” said Odelia.

“Bad time for bachelors,” said Abe, deadpan.

“Any CCTV?” Odelia asked.

“Somehow I have a feeling we won’t get anything again,” said Chase. “Let’s talk to his parents first. They’re waiting for us in the food court.”

“The food court?”

“They both looked like they could use a cup of coffee.”

So we walked over to the food court, the same spot where Gran had spent all day yesterday to receive Scarlett’s reports. Today the court was completely empty, with the only two people occupying it a rather heavyset man and a rail-thin woman. Abraham and Miriam Timperley looked up hopefully when we arrived.

“Did you manage to save my boy?” asked Mr. Timperley.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, sir,” said Chase, not beating around the bush. “Joel didn’t make it.”

“My son… is dead?” asked the man, looking crestfallen all of a sudden.

“I’m afraid so. He died sometime last night.”

“Oh, God,” said Joel’s mom as she clasped a desperate hand to her mouth.

Joel’s dad, who’d half-risen, now dropped back into his chair like a bag of potatoes. “I don’t believe this. Joel—dead. But… how?”

“He didn’t die of natural causes.”

“You mean he was… murdered?” Mr. Timperley almost whispered the words.

“Stabbed,” said Chase. “And then placed in the Zeus display by the entrance.”

“But who would do such a thing?”

“Oh, isn’t it obvious?” asked Mrs. Timperley. “It’s that family, of course. The Careens!” She spat out the word as if it was vile, which to her it probably was.