As he removed the top, Kate let out a gasp, stepping back in revulsion, her hand over her mouth. Three small black birds in a row—pierced by a metal skewer, all with their throats slit.

“What kind of sick bastard is doing this?” Simon roared, pushing the box toward Detective Anderson.

“These birds were most likely purchased from a pet store, just as the mice were,” Anderson said. “They’re parakeets, but they’ve been spray-painted black.”

Kate felt the blood pulsing in her neck and shrank back. Her whole body shook as terror turned to rage, exploding inside her. She looked at Anderson. “Why didn’t you warn us? To deliberately shock us? To see what our reactions would be?” Something else suddenly dawned on her. “Do you think we’re hiding something from you?”

There was no regret in Anderson’s eyes, only suspicion. “It’s procedure,” he said evenly. “Do you have any idea who might be doing this?”

“Of course not.”

He replaced the box lid, took a plastic sleeve from his folder, and handed it to Kate. “This was on top of the birds.” Inside the plastic was a sheet of plain white paper, with the same typeface as the other note.

Sing a song of sixpence

a pocket full of rye

3 little blackbirds

simply had to die

When the box is opened

The birds no longer sing

Wasn’t that a pretty gift

For someone to bring?

“These morbid nursery rhymes,” Kate whispered. She handed it to Simon, the words reverberating in her mind in a singsong. She doubled over, a wave of dizziness making her lean on the desk in front of her.

Detective Anderson took the note back and put it in his bag. “The killer obviously wants to taunt you. Based on my experience, I would say this is most likely someone you know, though maybe not someone you know well. Someone on the periphery of your life.”

“Why do you think that?” Kate asked.

“We know it wasn’t a robbery. No valuables were taken. Your father verified that the only thing missing was the bracelet your mother always wore. If someone had broken in to rob the house, they would have taken much more.”

Kate considered this. “So you think someone deliberately targeted her to . . . ”

Before he could answer, Simon interrupted. “Where are you with the investigation? Are you closing in on any suspects?”

“We’re looking at everyone right now.”

Simon sighed loudly. “I’d appreciate a little more detail. For instance, a short list of suspects. People’s alibis. That sort of thing.” He, Kate, and Harrison, as well as their household employees, had provided detailed alibis to the police in the days immediately following the murder.

“Mr. English. We’re not in the habit of sharing the details of our investigation, because it can compromise our work. I assure you, we’re being very thorough.”