The Tower

I T was getting dark when they reached the house. Typical of the neighborhood, it sat back from a full lawn that stretched all the way around to the backyard. A sprinkler chopped back and forth over a yellow Wiffle-ball bat that lay in the middle of the grass.

Kids, Jade thought. More kids.

The upstairs windows were lit, two golden rectangles shining into the evening. Travers parked behind three police cars. They got out and headed to the house, passing a green station wagon in the driveway.

There were three cops downstairs. "Up in the bedroom," one said, pointing to the stairs. "Body first room to the right. Kid's out on a sleep-over, doesn't know yet. We're with the husband in the master bedroom. He's pretty broken up."

Travers nodded and headed upstairs.

"We also got a glove by the back door," another cop said.

Jade walked back and glanced at the glove. It was black, medium-size. Definitely a man's.

He headed back for the stairs. "Anything been moved?"

The cop shook his head. "Nothing. Husband's name is Royce Tedlow. Says he hasn't touched a thing either. Just the phone when he called us."

The body was upstairs, lying on a bed in a boy's bedroom. A thin woman with dark bruises around her neck. Her shirt was neatly tucked into her pants. She looked peaceful, as if she were sleeping.

Jade and Travers looked at the dead woman for a moment, then headed for the master bedroom.

The husband sat on the bed, face buried in his stretched undershirt. An unbuttoned blue shirt was curled back from his body, and his hairy chest was distinguishable beneath the thin white undershirt. He had a medium build, a nice frame layered with muscles gone slightly soft with middle-age. Jade put him in his late forties.

The bedroom was nicely furnished. A large mirror stretched almost the length of one wall above a marble cabinet, and a huge television faced the bed from beside a window on the other side. An elegant lady's watch curled around the base of a large brass lamp on the nightstand.

Travers spoke softly with two of the cops. They'd been at the scene for at least a half hour, and had yet to get anything from the husband. Every time he started to speak, he collapsed back into tears. They surrounded him, their faces supportive and sympathetic.

"I just… just can't believe that some… some MANIAC!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse from crying.

"Calm. Calm down," Jade said. "What happened?"

Royce Tedlow looked at Jade and took a deep breath.

"Come on," Travers said. "Let's walk through this together, okay?"

The husband nodded and started speaking, halting occasionally to fight back tears. "I work down… downstairs in the basement, in my office. I came up to get Susan-"

"For what?" Jade asked. Travers and a burly officer shot him hard stares.

"I don't… I don't remember." The husband collapsed back into sobs.

"Nice touch, Marlow," Travers said under her breath. She turned back to Royce, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I know this is hard, and I'm sorry to have to push you like this, but the sooner we find out what happened, the better chance we have of finding the killer while the trail is still hot. So see if you can go ahead."

When Royce continued, his voice was steadier. "She wasn't answering, so I went upstairs. When I came in here, I saw my wallet and I knew something was wrong." He pointed to the floor, where a leather wallet was spread open. Business cards, an ATM slip, and credit cards were scattered on the floor.

A cop walked over and picked up the ATM slip. "Twelve hundred bucks," he said. "You always carry this much cash?"

Royce shook his head. "No. I just went to the ATM this morning."

The cop looked at Jade, then back at the husband. "Anything else missing?"

Royce looked up. "A clock."

The cop looked surprised.

"It's Waterford crystal."

Jade bit his cheek to keep from laughing aloud.

"Then you went to your kid's room?"

Violent nodding from Royce. His cheeks were flushed and the tears kept coming. Jade was amazed they hadn't run out.

"There she was… strangled." More sobs.

"Don't you think strangulation's a pretty personal way to kill someone?" Jade asked.

The husband gave him a horrified look, then collapsed back on the bed, burying his face in the comforter. "I'm not talking to him," he sobbed.

"Look, buddy," the burly cop said to Jade in a loud whisper, "I don't know what kind of training they give you in the FBI, but-"

"Yeah, okay. We got a car in the driveway, two lights on upstairs, and you want me to buy that someone broke in for petty theft. Someone who'd leave a watch on the nightstand but take a clock. Thieves generally don't know their crystal, Tedlow. They have a hard time telling Waterford from Baccarat."

He circled the bed, trying to get a look at the husband's eyes.

"That body was laid on the bed with care. With guilt. Robbers don't treat bodies like that. He would've just knocked her, robbed the place, and split. Not taken time to lay the body out." He paused. "We all know this wasn't a random offender."