The interview room came equipped with an audio system. Superintendent McKinnon helped Phil insert the earpiece into his left ear, which would enable them to communicate with him once he was inside the room. With the audio system flipped on, they’d also be able to hear everything said inside the cramped eight-by-twelve-foot space.

Phil and Adeline would enter the room. D.D. and the superintendent would remain on the other side of the glass, observing. Shana was also entitled to have her lawyer present but had declined.

Now Superintendent McKinnon glanced at Adeline, who stood slightly off to one side, then stared hard at Phil.

“Ready?” McKinnon asked him.

“Sure.”

“You need a breather, just walk out of the room. Remember, you can come and go as you please. She’s the one who has to sit there.”

The pep talk seemed to work for Phil. He drew himself up straighter, nodded his understanding.

Superintendent McKinnon reached over, flipped on a light switch. Inside the room, Shana Day came into view, clad in prison orange, sitting at a small interview table, shackled hands clasped on top.

The inmate raised her head slowly as Adeline opened the door and led Phil into the chamber.

• • •

AT FIRST GLANCE, the aging female killer wasn’t what D.D. had pictured. Photos online had been black-and-white smudges from a nearly thirty-year-old murder trial, meaning D.D. had been left to fill in the blanks. Given Adeline’s sleek beauty, not to mention Shana’s predilection for preying on men, D.D. had expected the juvenile murderess to have grown from a once-awkward fourteen-year-old girl into a passably attractive middle-aged brunette. Not even close.

Mouse-brown hair hung down in shoulder-length clumps. Washed-out skin, dark, puffy eyes, sunken cheekbones. Mouth set in a perpetually sullen line. Even beneath the oversize bulk of her prison jumpsuit, it was clear that the woman’s body was too thin, nearly bony. Thirty years of incarceration had not been kind to Shana Day, and judging by the look on her face, she knew it.

She didn’t glance over when Adeline and Phil entered but kept her gaze focused on the viewing glass, as if she knew both D.D. and Superintendent McKinnon were there.

Then she smiled.

A small, faintly knowing smirk that immediately set D.D.’s nerves on edge.

“Shana Day?” Phil began, approaching the table. “My name’s Phil. I’m a detective with the Boston PD.”

She didn’t look at him.

“I’m here with your sister, per your request. As I believe Superintendent McKinnon has mentioned, I have some questions regarding a couple of recent murders.”

Without waiting for her to respond, Phil pulled out one of the empty chairs and took a seat. Adeline stayed to the side, leaning against the doorjamb, arms folded over her chest. The support role, D.D. realized. She was doing her best to grant Phil center stage.