“I can’t think of one. But I don’t know if he’d need one. I don’t know anything about his case, except for what Sheila told us, but we do know he’s insane, so, maybe, he just picks his targets randomly.”
“The person who killed Melville had to be able to get in and out of the elevator,” Ken said. “Where was Samuels when you walked onto the landing?”
“He came out of his room after I did.” Robin’s brow furrowed. “If the killer had to get in and out of the cage, that lets Sheila and Nelly out. Sheila was in the kitchen getting Melville’s brandy when the elevator went up, and Nelly was in the hall near the library. Plus, Nelly doesn’t look like she’d have the strength.”
“I’ve seen theHard to Killfilms. Rockwell did some of his stunts. He’s going to seed, but I’d bet that he’s still strong enough to get into and out of the car.”
Robin tried to remember what had happened when the alarm went off.
“I came out of my room when I heard the alarm, and Rockwell came out of his a second later. I didn’t go onto the landing as soon as I heard the alarm. I might have waited as much as a minute or two. Rockwell could have gotten into the car, killed Melville, gone into his room, and come out again,” Robin said.
“So could Samuels. But what’s Rockwell’s motive?” Ken asked.
“He’d have one if he figured out that Melville was trying to prove that he killed Claire Winters.”
“Jose is in good shape, and he was a rock climber,” Ken said.
“But he was in his room when the alarm went off.”
“Unless he did what you just said Rockwell could have done; go into the car, commit the murder, and go back to his room before you came out of yours,” Ken said. “And Jose has a strong motive to kill Melville.”
“But he didn’t have any reason to kill Trent,” Robin said.
“Who did?”
“No one I can think of,” Robin said. Then she stopped because she had just gotten an idea. But before she could work it out Luther entered the dining room.
“The police are here. I’ve opened the gate for them.”
Everyone rushed into the entrance hall. Luther threw open the front door, and Robin saw three cars and a van from the telephone company drive around the final curve and stop in front of Black Oaks. Two of the cars were unmarked, and one displayed the logo of the state police.
The doors to the marked car opened first, and Max and a man in the uniform of a state trooper got out and headed toward the manor house. The officer was tall and heavyset with curly gray hair and a bushy mustache. There were mud stains on his trousers and the sleeves of his jacket. Two other officers got out, but they stayed by the car.
The passenger door of one of the unmarked cars opened quickly and a thin man in a brown disheveled suit, rumpled white shirt, and brown tie jumped out. The knot of his tie was down, and the shirt was unbuttoned at the throat. The manwalked toward the front door with quick, jerky steps. Robin could see tired eyes through the lenses of his Coke-bottle glasses, and his hair was as rumpled as his clothes. Robin guessed that he had not slept.
Two men got out of the third car. One was an African American and the other looked Hispanic. They were dressed in jeans and rain gear and looked exhausted.
Ken moved beside Robin at the front door, and Nelly stood behind them. The rest of the people who had spent the night at Black Oaks hung back in the entry hall.
“I’m Sergeant Robert Pine. I’m with the state police,” the trooper said.
“I’m Robin Lockwood. I’m an attorney. This is my investigator, Ken Breland, and this is Nelly Melville. She lives here. Has the road down the mountain been cleared?”
“We broke through, and Mr. DeNucci flagged us down. He told us what’s been going on here and how Zelko disabled your phones. We’re going to have the line fixed, so we can communicate with headquarters and the state hospital. He also said that two people have been murdered.”
“Unfortunately, that’s right,” Ken said.
The two men from the second unmarked car joined Pine and the thin man in the brown suit at the front door.
“These two gentlemen are detectives from the sheriff’s office,” Pine said.
“Peter Morales and Frank Carter,” the Hispanic detective said.
“Is Zelko here?” the man in the rumpled brown suit interrupted.
“Who are you?” Robin asked.
“Sorry. I’m Dr. Lewis Ashcroft, the director of the state hospital.”