“Our agents visited your cottage with a search warrant and found your caretaker, Mrs. Jernigan, very helpful. Our agents came away with personal items that belonged to Dr. Madison as well as photos of the two of you.”

Sherlock lined up the three photos side by side in front of Storin. “It appears you have a very different look when you’re in Washington, Ms. Storin. Look at that red spiky hair, the flamboyant makeup, the black stiletto boots, the short leather skirt.”

Storin stared down at the photos, said nothing.

Clooney shoved the photos back toward Sherlock. “You have no proof that woman in the photos is Ms. Storin, and if it is, what of it?”

Angela Storin interrupted him. “No, she’s right, it’s me in the photos.” She shrugged. “Who cares? I enjoy changing my look. I’m certainly not causing harm to anyone. A different wardrobe, a fun wig, and using Mrs. Gilbert’s house doesn’t make me guilty of murder.”

“True, but it helped us realize why none of the gun ranges we contacted to find out where you honed your shooting skills recognized our photos of you.”

Sherlock turned to Clooney. “Your client practices at Curly Johnson’s Bivouac, a gun range outside of Plankton, Connecticut, about a half hour from the New York border. Curly looked at these photos and grinned from ear to ear. He said, ‘That’s our girl, Misty Lee, the biker chick, a little long in the tooth, sure, but you should see her shoot. She roars up on her Harley and usually takes some of the guys’ money, but they don’t mind too much because she buys them all beers afterward.’

“So, hi, Misty. I really like your look, it’s an amazing transformation. I imagine it must be very liberating for you to travel to Washington or Connecticut and shed your dowdy professional image, become Misty Lee, and sling your leg over the seat of your Harley. It must have been fun for Dr. Madison, too, I imagine, to see the proper Ms. Angela Storin transform into wild-as-the-wind Misty Lee.

“You keep that Harley in a storage locker somewhere, but we’ll find it, along with Misty Lee’s clothes and that cute red wig.”

Sherlock leaned toward Storin. “Tell us, Ms. Storin—or Ms. Lee—is there a reason you play at being two vastly different people, or is it really simply for the fun of it?”

“I don’t have to say anything.”

Kelly continued before Clooney could object. “After Curly Johnson identified you, we presented him with a search warrant. It turns out you keep a locker there, Ms. Storin.”