“It’s hard to remember it all exactly. It’s not … It’s not clear.”

“Just try your best,” Chief Clark said.

“I can see myself going to the front doors of the bar and kind of walking in without making any noise,” Stephanie said. She rubbed her eyes. “I think they saw me when I got to the counter, outside the kitchen.”

“Did you have the gun with you at this time?” Sweeney asked.

“I must have grabbed it when it was in the car.” Stephanie shook her head slightly, as though trying to sort through racing, colliding thoughts. “It must have been on the seat beside me.”

“So you brought it with you from home?”

“I guess so.”

“You can’t remember?”

“The past few days have been really crazy,” Stephanie said. She took a couple of tissues from the box she had been given and wiped her cheeks. “I was so angry at the time that I think my brain just didn’t record certain things. It’s like I can see myself now, standing in front of the two of them in the bar, but I can’t see anything about the gun. What I did with it after I used it. Where it came from. It’s like those parts of my memory are just gone. Blank.”

Amanda leaned on the two-way mirror and studied Stephanie’s face closely.

“Have you ever used a gun before?” Sweeney asked. “Do you know how to use one?”

“I know how to use one but I’ve never used one before, no.”

“So what happened next, after you walked into the bar and Andrew and Keema saw you standing there?”

There was a long pause. Stephanie held the tissue up to her mouth.

“I think I said something like…” She sniffed. “Like ‘How could you?’ or ‘Why?’ or … I’m not sure. I can see them looking at me, and I’m holding the gun out like this.”

She held her arm out, pointed it at Sweeney’s face. The hand trembled, two fingers pointing out, the barrel wavering.

Amanda pushed the intercom on the wall beside her, making Clark and Sweeney jump in their seats.

“This is bullshit,” Amanda said.

The two swung around as though they could see her through the mirror.

“Who is that?” Stephanie asked.

“Amanda Pharrell, would you kindly butt out?” Chief Clark snapped, his eyes wandering blindly over the mirrored glass. “I’m noting the interruption of private investigator and notorious pest Amanda Pharrell for the tape. She has not been invited into this interview and was permitted to watch from the observation room, silently.”

“This is not silent.” Amanda pushed the button again, her sudden voice making Sweeney jolt again. “This is me saying this confession is bullshit. Rather loudly, actually. This thing is hideously loud. Is there a volume control?” Amanda experimented with the buttons on the panel beneath the speaker. One produced a high-pitched squeal.