“I know you’re Chief Williams. I clean the high windows at the back of your house in Banana Island. The security guys let me do it for a little change. I see things because rich people never look down.”
Jerry’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the bench. He knew those windows. They looked right into the kitchen.
“What did you see?” Jerry whispered, terrified of the answer.
The boy looked at his feet, then back up.
“I saw her, Madam Victoria. When the sun goes down, she sends everyone out of the kitchen. Then she opens a small silver locket around her neck and drops a white powder into the girl’s soup. I saw her do it yesterday and the week before that.”
A cold, sick feeling washed over Jerry. It was not the heat. It was the feeling of being stabbed in the back by the person you are supposed to trust most.
The silver locket.
Victoria never took it off. She told him it held her grandmother’s ashes.
Just then, the sound of gravel crunching behind them broke the silence.
“Jerry, darling—”
Jerry went stiff.
He turned to see Victoria standing there. She looked stunning in her silk dress, her designer shades perched on her head. But when she saw her husband’s face and the ragged boy standing right next to him, she stopped dead in her tracks.
She tried to pull off a smile, but her eyes were darting back and forth. You could see the panic starting to crack through her makeup.
