“They said maybe day after tomorrow. Maybe the day after that.”

I had less than forty-eight hours. The ticking clock, and the nearness of her, were hammering at me to hurry. “Mrs. Spain,” I said, “I came to tell you that there’s been some progress in the investigation. We’ve arrested someone for the attack on you and your family.”

That ignited a startled sputter of life in Jenny’s eyes. I said, “Your sister didn’t tell you?”

She shook her head. “You’ve … ? Arrested who?”

“This may come as a bit of a shock, Mrs. Spain. It’s someone you know—someone you were very close to, for a long time.” The sputter caught, flared into fear. “Can you tell me any reason why Conor Brennan would want to hurt your family?”

“Conor?”

“We’ve arrested him for the crimes. He’ll be charged this weekend. I’m sorry.”

“Oh my God— No. No no no. You’ve got it all wrong. Conor would never hurt us. He’d never hurt anyone.” Jenny was struggling to lift herself off the pillow; one hand stretched towards mine, tendons standing out like an old woman’s, and I saw those broken nails. “You have to let him out.”

“Believe it or not,” I said, “I’m with you on this one: I don’t think Conor is a killer either. Unfortunately, though, all the evidence points to him, and he’s confessed to the crimes.”

“Confessed?”

“I can’t ignore that. Unless someone can give me concrete proof that Conor didn’t kill your family, I’ve got no choice but to file the charges against him—and believe me, the case will stand up in court. He’s going to prison for a very long time.”

“I was there. It wasn’t him. Is that concrete enough?”

I said gently, “I thought you didn’t remember that night.”

That only threw her for a second. “I don’t. And if it had been Conor, I’d remember that. So it wasn’t.”

I said, “We’re past that kind of game, Mrs. Spain. I’m almost sure I know what happened that night. I’m very sure that you do. And I’m pretty sure that no one else alive does, except Conor. That makes you the only person who can get him off the hook. Unless you want him convicted of murder, you need to tell me what happened.”

Tears started in Jenny’s eyes. She blinked them back. “I don’t remember.”

“Take a minute and think about what you’ll be doing to Conor if you keep that up. He cares about you. He’s loved you and Pat for a very long time—I think you know just how much he loves you. How will he feel, if he finds out you’re willing to let him spend the rest of his life in prison for something he didn’t do?”

Her mouth wobbled, and for a second I thought I had her, but then it set hard. “He won’t go to prison. He didn’t do anything wrong. You’ll see.”

I waited, but she was done. Richie and I had been right. She was planning her note. She cared about Conor, but her chance at death meant more to her than anyone left alive.