These Shallow Graves by Jennifer Donnelly Page A

desk. One was your mother’s and was in her bedroom. Theakston’s was in his vest pocket. The fourth, Mrs. Nelson’s, was hanging on a hook by the pantry.”
    Eddie stopped speaking. His frown deepened.
    â€œWhat is it?” Jo asked.
    â€œMrs. Nelson stated that she hadn’t been able to find her key when she went to bed that night. Buckley noted that she was distressed because she was worried the killer had used her key to get inside the house. Theakston was able to calm her down when he confirmed that her key was, in fact, hanging in its usual place.” Eddie looked at Jo. “That sounds odd to me.”
    â€œNot if you know Mrs. Nelson. She’s very absentminded. Always misplacing things,” Jo said. “Maybe the shock of my father’s death made her think she’d lost her key when she hadn’t.”
    â€œThat could explain it,” Eddie allowed. “The last thing the report mentions is your uncle’s arrival. Miss Klopp went to his house to fetch him. He answered the door himself. He was up late working in his study. His servants had gone to bed. He rushed to your house, accompanied by Miss Klopp. When he saw his brother’s body, he collapsed. Dr. Koehler and one of the officers helped him up and took him out of the room. Dr. Koehler wanted him to lie down, but Mr. Montfort said he was fine, he just needed a glass of water. He went to the kitchen. Koehler and the police captain—Perkins—went with him.”
    Jo’s heart ached for her uncle. He’d never told her that he’d collapsed. Which was just like him, stoic and protective. He must’ve been devastated when he saw his brother’s body, yet his first thought had been to guard the family from scandal.
    Eddie suddenly slapped his notepad down on the table, startling Jo.
    â€œThis makes no sense,” he said, frustration in his voice. “How did the killer get in, fire a shot, and get out again totally unseen? The doors to your house were all locked. The door to your father’s study was locked, too, from the inside. The whole scenario’s impossible.”
    Jo’s heart sank. She’d hoped they were getting close to an answer.
    Eddie ran a hand through his hair. “We’re missing something here. We must be. Do any of the Van Houten partners have a key to your house? Could one have come back later that night?” he asked.
    â€œAre you suggesting that one of my father’s partners killed him? After your ridiculous suggestion that my mother might have?” Jo asked, incredulous.
    â€œIt’s a possibility,” Eddie said.
    â€œNo, it’s not, ” Jo retorted. “None of them has a key to our house. My father grew up with these men, Eddie. They are all from old and fine families. It’s inconceivable that they’d harm him. And I’m sure they all accounted for themselves on the evening of his death.”
    â€œYeah, they did,” Eddie said, paging through his notes. “They were all at home—Scully, Beekman, Brevoort, Tuller. What about your uncle? Does he have a key?”
    â€œMy uncle,” Jo said flatly. “My father’s only brother. The man who is a second father to me.”
    Eddie nodded.
    â€œYou yourself just told me that he was at home when my father was killed. Pauline Klopp, a maid, was sent to fetch him. She saw him there. He answered the door. But even if he hadn’t been at home, the mere idea of him killing my father is completely absurd.”
    â€œHow about rivals? Business competitors?”
    Jo raised an eyebrow. “Can you really see elderly Mr. Woolcott Sloan of Sloan and Thorpe Shipping shooting my father ? Who do you think these people are, Eddie? Pirates?”
    Eddie drummed his fingers on the table, then picked up a pen that was lying there. “Can I look at the names and notations you told me about on our way to the morgue? The ones from your father’s