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Back We Were Killers Once Save as PDF
Chapters (65)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty–one
  25. Twenty–two
  26. Twenty–three
  27. Twenty–four
  28. Twenty–five
  29. Twenty–six
  30. Twenty–seven
  31. Twenty–eight
  32. Twenty–nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty–one
  35. Thirty–two
  36. Thirty–three
  37. Thirty–four
  38. Thirty–five
  39. Thirty–six
  40. Thirty–seven
  41. Thirty–eight
  42. Thirty–nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty–one
  45. Forty–two
  46. Forty–three
  47. Forty–four
  48. Forty–five
  49. Forty–six
  50. Forty–seven
  51. Forty–eight
  52. Forty–nine
  53. Fifty
  54. Fifty–one
  55. Fifty–two
  56. Fifty–three
  57. Fifty–four
  58. Fifty–five
  59. Fifty–six
  60. Fifty–seven
  61. Author’s Note
  62. Acknowledgments
  63. Also by Becky Masterman
  64. About the Author
  65. Newsletter Sign-up

“Uber,” Gemma-Kate said. “Uncle Carlo says you’re going to Florida tomorrow, so I’ll stay here and you can drop me off in the morning on the way to the airport.” She sat on the couch barricaded with two pugs, at least seven books, and some thick manila folders. “I need to talk to you about In Cold Blood,” she said, answering the second part of my question.

“You told me last week you read it. So what’s the big epiphany?”

Gemma-Kate shot me a look intended to wither, a special look for aging aunts. “I didn’t just read In Cold Blood. I read all of Capote’s works, autobiographies, critical analyses, and whatever was online in archives. Dad helped me get access to the police reports from Florida, too. Capote got a lot of it wrong and I can’t tell whether he did it on purpose or was duped by Perry Smith. I’m totally obsessed.”

“You’ve done more research than I ever did. Did you find out anything new about the Walker family murder?” I asked. “We know they killed the Clutters, but it’s the Walkers who’re still the mystery. That’s the important thing.”

Gemma-Kate shook her head no and sipped her port with a deflated air of regret. “Maybe you can make her understand,” she said to Carlo. “I’m not sure I have the energy.”

Well, that was snarky.

Carlo thought. Gemma-Kate seemed fine with the length of time he was taking. Feeling the post-sex munchies, I took the opportunity to get out a tumbler and spoon myself a generous helping of Cherry Garcia, then took it to my chair where I poured my glass of port over it. By the time I stirred the concoction into a milkshake, Carlo was ready to talk.

“Here’s an example of what Gemma-Kate was telling me before you came in,” he said. “She says Hickock and Smith told Capote they took forty dollars from the Clutter house. That was in their confession as well. But the prison archives show, in a post-conviction hearing for clemency, Hickock admitted they took over a thousand dollars.”

“No shit? That’s a huge difference,” I said, letting the ice cream melt on my spoon and drip back into the glass. “It would account for how they got the money to travel to Mexico and from LA to Miami and back to Las Vegas before they were caught. In those days a grand would do it.” Then I put the glass down, got up from my chair, and went over to the couch because I could see dozens of pink stickies protruding from the pages of my book. I opened it. “You underlined my first edition!”