Chapter 6
The Photograph of Sleep
Elise did not look at the photograph twice.
The first look showed her bedroom, the blue quilt, the lamp Mara had repaired with copper wire, and Elise asleep on her side with one hand beneath her cheek.
The second look showed the reflection in the wardrobe mirror.
Someone stood in the doorway.
Bell held out his hand. “Give me the phone.”
Elise tightened her grip. “Why?”
“Because you’re looking at a crime scene.”
“No. I’m looking at an image someone sent me.”
“That image may contain a crime.”
“And you may be the person Mara warned me about.”
The accusation landed between them. Bell did not object to it. He only asked, “Did you recognize the person in the doorway?”
Elise enlarged the photograph.
The figure wore no coat. The face remained hidden by the angle of the door. One hand rested on the frame. On the wrist was a narrow silver bracelet.
Mara’s bracelet.
Elise knew it because she had bought it in Lisbon after Mara lost a bet about a ruined hotel microphone. Mara wore it when she wanted to remember a mistake.
“That’s hers,” Elise said.
Bell examined the image. “You’re certain?”
“I am certain of the bracelet.”
“Not the person wearing it.”
The kitchen speaker gave a soft notification tone.
A new recording loaded.
Mara said, “The photograph is real. The time is not.”
Elise stared at the tablet. “Where are you?”
No answer came.
The recording continued. “You will be told I left because I was afraid of you. You will be told I planned this because I loved an audience. Both statements contain enough truth to be useful.”
Bell stepped closer to the speaker. “Mara Quinn, this is Detective Jonah Bell. If you can hear me, identify your location.”
Mara’s voice answered from the recording, “You still ask questions as if answers belong to the person asking.”
The file ended.
Bell swore under his breath.
Elise had never heard him swear before. It made him less trustworthy, not more human.
He called the department and requested a technical team. While he spoke, Elise returned to the photograph. The silver bracelet was not merely on the figure’s wrist. It was fastened upside down.
Mara always wore the clasp toward her thumb because the edge of the metal cut her skin.
The person in the photograph wore it toward the little finger.
Not Mara.
Elise turned toward the stairs.
“The photograph is staged,” she said.
Bell ended his call. “You sound relieved.”
“I sound certain.”
“Certainty is not the same as safety.”
He pointed to the black case. “We take that in.”
“And leave my house unlocked?”
“The door was unlocked before I arrived.”
Elise looked at the entrance.
The chain hung loose. The deadbolt was turned back. On the brass plate below the lock, someone had scratched a small circle crossed by a line.
The same mark appeared on Mara’s notebook.
Bell saw it too.
His phone chimed.
The department had sent a still from the rear camera at Northbank Audio. The person in Elise’s gray coat had just turned toward the lens.
The face was visible now.
It was Elise’s face.
Bell whispered, “You need to tell me where your sister is.”
Elise had no sister.
The photograph’s metadata opened by itself.
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