“Is that the best you can do?” Raleigh pressed.
A member of the museum tech staff replied, “Might be able to get it technologically enhanced. On this rough footage, this is what we have.”
“We pick him up again later on,” Sharp said.
He quickly fast-forwarded and stopped at a wide-angle view of the Main Hall, the wedding reception. They were able to zoom in on the same tuxedoed man standing at the edge of the crowd, observing. When the image was magnified, though, it became grainy and lost its resolution.
“He’s purposely avoiding looking at the camera,” I whispered to Raleigh. “He knows where they are.”
“We ran these shots by both families,” Sharp said. “No one places him. No one can identify who he is. I mean, there’s a chance it’s not him. But considering your sketch…”
“It’s him,” I said firmly. My eyes burned on the grainy screen. I was also sure we were looking at Kathy Voskuhl’s mysterious lover.
Chapter 61
HILLARY KNEW. I was almost sure of it. But why she would conceal such a thing related to her sister’s death, I couldn’t imagine. Old habits are hard to crack, she had said.
I wanted another shot at her, and I reached her by phone at the family house in Shaker Heights.
“I had a chance to speak to Merrill Shortley,” I told her. “I just need a few details cleared up.”
“You realize this is a very stressful time for my family, Inspector,” Hillary replied. “We told you what we knew.”
I didn’t want to come on too strong. She had lost her sister in a horrible way. Her parents’ home was filled with mourners and grief. And she was under no obligation to talk to me at all.
“Merrill told me a few things about Kathy. Her lifestyle…”
“We told you all that,” she replied defensively. “But we also told you that after meeting James she had begun to settle down.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about. Merrill recalled there was someone she was seeing in San Francisco.”
“I thought we told you Kathy dated lots of men.”
“This one went on for a long time. He was older. Married. Some kind of big shot. Possibly famous.”
“I wasn’t my sister’s keeper,” Hillary complained.
“I need a name, Ms. Bloom. This man could be her killer.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand. I already told you what I know. My sister didn’t exactly confide in me. We lived very different lives. I’m sure you’ve put two and two together already — there was a lot I didn’t approve of.”
“You said something to me the first time we talked. Old habits are hard to crack. What sort of habits were you referring to?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean. The Cleveland police are handling this, Inspector. Can’t we just let them do their job?”
“I’m trying to help you, Ms. Bloom. Why did Kathy move away from San Francisco? I think you know. Was someone abusing her? Was Kathy in trouble?”
Hillary sounded frightened. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’m going to hang up now, Inspector.”
“It’s going to come out, Hillary. It always does. An address book. Her phone bill. It’s not just Kathy. There are four others, back in California. They were just as hopeful about the rest of their lives as your sister. Just as deserving.”
There was a tiny sob in her voice. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I felt I had one last chance. “Here’s the really ugly truth about murder. If I’ve learned one thing as a homicide detective, it’s that the lines don’t stay fixed. Yesterday you were an innocent victim, but now you’re in this, too. This killer will strike again, and you will regret whatever you didn’t tell me for the rest of your life.”
There was a heavy silence on the line. I knew what it meant. It was the struggle inside Hillary Bloom’s conscience.
I heard a click. She had hung up the phone.