“Yes, but the money was likely at Rita’s or Matthew’s discretion,” I said. “With these photos, Dooney could demand whatever he wanted and they’d comply or he’d ruin them.”

“I think we know who Dooney’s murderer is,” Harry said. “And to think the answer was sitting on this table the whole time.”

“And who would that be?” Detective Stewart asked.

Harry and I whirled around to find the detective standing in the doorway to the library. Without saying a word, Harry handed the detective the magazine.

Detective Stewart frowned at the cover. “Trout fishing?”

“Page sixty,” I said.

“And seventy, and so on,” Harry added.

The detective flipped open the magazine. His eyebrows shot up. He flipped through some more pages and then slammed the magazine shut.

“Where did you find this?”

“Here on the coffee table while we were waiting for you,” Harry said.

Detective Stewart nodded. “A moment, please.”

He turned and strode to the door. A constable was there, and they had a whispered conversation.

“Horrible thought,” I said to Harry. “You don’t reckon he thinks we planted this, do you?”

“No, that’d be daft,” Harry said.

Detective Stewart came back. “Convenient for you to have just stumbled upon this, don’t you think?”

“Daft, did you say?” I muttered to Harry. He gave me a quelling look.

“I wouldn’t say it was convenient so much as dumb luck, and you’re the one to thank,” Harry said.

“How do you figure?”

“If you hadn’t asked us to wait in the library, we wouldn’t have been in here,” Harry said. “So, in many ways, you’re the one who found the photos, don’t you think?”

Detective Stewart seemed to like that take on things. I beamed at Harry. My talent of people pleasing was certainly wearing off on him, although in this case, he was stretching the truth.

“Excuse me, you wanted to see me, Detective?” Rita May entered the room. She looked as elegant as ever. She definitely had the Audrey Hepburn, timeless beauty thing happening. Reconciling this woman with the vixen in the photos made my brain hurt.

Piper followed her mother into the room and asked, “Will this take long? I need my mother with me, today of all days.”

I reached over and grabbed Harry’s hand. Did Piper know? I doubted it. She was the privileged daughter of wealthy parents who had protected her from everything. I imagined that “everything” included her mother’s unsavory past.

The detective cleared his throat. “It’ll take just a moment. A private word over here, perhaps, Mrs. May?”