“I see.” If Sissy had been with Stewart while I was with Morty Cassity, then it wasn’t Sissy driving that pink car that day. It had to be Hank instead.

Hank.

Sissy wasn’t Morty’s lover, Hank was.

I sat down abruptly on Stewart’s bed.

“Charlie, what’s the matter? Are you all right?”

I nodded, my thoughts running amok in my head. “Give me a minute.” I started recalling the various things I’d heard about Sissy.

The Ducote sisters telling me how surprised they were to hear that Sissy was running around with Morty, when she’d never been known to do that kind of thing before.

Helen Louise saying much the same thing.

Stewart telling me, earlier this evening, that he was surprised to hear that Sissy was running around with Morty because he’d always thought she was gay like her brother.

It all made sense, though. Sissy was known to be willing to do whatever she could to help out her beloved little brother.

Even pretending that she was having an affair with a married man so that no one would suspect that Hank and Morty were lovers.

And, finally, pushing Vera down the stairs to clear the way for her brother and Hank—and on top of that, access to those millions for her brother and herself.

“Charlie, you’re beginning to worry me. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

I surfaced from my whirlpool of thoughts to see Stewart regarding me with concern. “I’m okay,” I said. “Just a bit stunned, that’s all.”

“You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?” Stewart started bobbing up and down on the bed. “Tell me, tell me, or I’m going to bust a gasket right here and now.” Dante sat up, disturbed by the bobbing, and started barking. Stewart put a hand on him to calm him, and he shut up.

“Okay. Here goes.” I launched into my explanation.

Stewart’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head at first, but then he started nodding. When I finished, he said, “I think you have to be right, Charlie. I never could see why Sissy would take up with Morty, but I sure can see why Hank would. He always did seem to have a thing for older men, and powerful men, too. Morty is certainly that, with all that money. I can’t believe I didn’t see it myself.”

“They were extraordinarily careful,” I said. “Sissy was the key, the smokescreen.”

“Pretty effective,” Stewart said.

“Yes, she was.” I felt drained all of a sudden.

“Charlie, do you think Hank and Morty were in on the murder, though? Was it Sissy acting completely on her own, or do you think they egged her on?” Stewart sounded troubled, and I was sure he didn’t want to think a former boyfriend of his was capable of inciting his own sister to murder.

“I honestly don’t know,” I said. “I bet they’ve figured out by now that she did it, but the other day Hank seemed awfully convinced that Vera was drunk and fell down the stairs on her own.”