Chapters (65)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty–one
- Twenty–two
- Twenty–three
- Twenty–four
- Twenty–five
- Twenty–six
- Twenty–seven
- Twenty–eight
- Twenty–nine
- Thirty
- Thirty–one
- Thirty–two
- Thirty–three
- Thirty–four
- Thirty–five
- Thirty–six
- Thirty–seven
- Thirty–eight
- Thirty–nine
- Forty
- Forty–one
- Forty–two
- Forty–three
- Forty–four
- Forty–five
- Forty–six
- Forty–seven
- Forty–eight
- Forty–nine
- Fifty
- Fifty–one
- Fifty–two
- Fifty–three
- Fifty–four
- Fifty–five
- Fifty–six
- Fifty–seven
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgments
- Also by Becky Masterman
- About the Author
- Newsletter Sign-up
Mitch says, “But that’s a difference, the drowning. Also the mother was raped. No one got raped before.”
Rory says, “That’s only because something stopped the killer. Remember the teenage daughter. What’s her name?” The men talk for a while about why there was no rape at the Clutter house. They think maybe it was because the Clutter family were all home at the same time, so it was harder to wrangle everyone. No time for rape.
At the age of six, I don’t know what “rape” is, though I’ve heard the word before. I’m certain from the tone of the men’s voices that rape can’t be good.
“Who’re the Clutters?” I ask, confused. I’m also still wondering about rape, so the part about the baby in the bathtub doesn’t immediately register. But now the men ignore me.
Mitch says, “Okay, maybe the kids were in the house and they got it first. But they were much younger so not as much trouble to manage, with that big teenage son. And with the Walkers, the husband came home after the three were killed.”
Rory says, “No, that’s not how it was. The wife was alone in the house, and the killer—”
“Killers,” Mitch says.
Rory shrugs and goes on, “—killers got her, then got the father and the two kids when they came home.”
Ken and Dad listen to Mitch and Rory talk as if they’re experts. No one ever mentions that they’re just robbery detectives and not homicide detectives. That would be rude.
Ken asks, “How do they know who got there when? There wasn’t that much time between the deaths.”
And Dad asks, “How can they even tell whether the baby was shot first or drowned first?”
Mitch says, “Oh, those medical examiners, they can tell.”
All the men nod like they understand what Mitch means, but after hearing the second time about a baby shot and drowned all I can think of is right … next … door … right … next … door …
The talk goes on but I stop hearing it. I can’t stop thinking about those children. What did the children see the men do to their mother? What did the mother see the men do to her children? Stop it, I think, no, I shout inside my head. Stop talking.
My little sister Ariel is four, and my brother Todd is two. They’re about the same age as the Walker children. They’ve already gone to bed but I’m big enough to stay up later. Part of my brain is listening to what the men are saying about the older child, after being shot, crawling to die next to his father. Part of my brain is listening to Dad’s voice repeating … door … right … next … door … right …