CHAPTER TWENTY

Nina Verbeck maintained her dignity until Michael shackled her to the table in the interview room. Then, as the three agents left the room, she called, "Wait! Where are you going?"

"We'll be back," Faith promised.

"But—"

The door drowned out whatever protest Nina was going to make. The agents walked to the other side of the two-way mirror. Detective Hilary waited for them, his hands folded across his chest.

"This is her?" he asked.

"That's her," Faith confirmed.

"You're sure about her?"

"Not one hundred percent," Faith admitted, "but we found mica powder at her house, and small quantities of black, white, yellow and red are missing. She is obsessed with alchemy and seems to actually believe in it. She also sounded a little offended when we referred to the killer as he and made a point to say that the killer could be a she."

"So she was bragging."

"Sure sounded like it," Michael confirmed.

"Hmm."

He seemed unconvinced. "You think we're on the wrong track?" Faith asked.

Hilary sighed. "No, I don't think so. It's just different from what I expected. I don't know, maybe I was biased toward a male too. Did she give a reason for stripping the victims naked?"

"She kind of danced around all of her answers," Faith said. "That's another thing that made me suspect her. She wouldn't really give a straight response to anything. The information we did get we had to almost force out of her, and she was clearly not happy providing it. The final nail in the coffin though was Turk. He identified the smell that he had found at the crime scenes and led me to the mica powder."

Hilary seemed encouraged by that. "So it's not just any mica powder. It's the mica powder that was used at the scene."

"Looks that way," Faith said.

"Well, go ahead and talk to her," Hilary replied. "Maybe we'll get lucky, and she'll tell us what we need to know."

The three agents returned to the room. Turk trotted to Nina's side and watched her closely, his body once more coiled like a spring. Nina looked at him and trembled slightly.

Michael began the conversation. "Okay, Nina. We're going to talk now. If you play nice and tell us what we need to know, then this can be a cordial conversation, and we can get you comfortable and get out of your hair. If you're difficult, then we get difficult. I promise you, it's in your best interests not to be difficult."

Nina didn't respond. After a moment, Faith said, "We have the evidence, Nina. We have the mica powder, we have Turk's nose—"

"His sense of smell is admissible in court?" Nina asked incredulously.

"Oh yes," Faith said. "Absolutely."

Strictly speaking, Turk's nose wasn't really evidence, but the mica powder was, and hearing that a K9 unit had identified the same scent at Nina's house as was present at all three crime scenes would likely impact the jury's opinion.

"Not to mention your attitude surrounding the whole thing," Michael said. "You didn't act horrified at the idea that three women were killed to complete some spell. You didn't act sorrowful or upset or saddened. You acted excited. Almost like you were glad someone was finally completing the Magnum Opus."

"I didn't act sorrowful? That's your argument?"

"More that you acted happy about it. You couldn't wait to talk about the traditions the killer was following. Like it excited you to share the details of each murder and how they applied to alchemical traditions."

"You two don't get excited when you come across serial killers whose actions match your personal theories and experience."

"No," Faith said. "Never."

Nina turned to Michael and found the same cold expression on his face. She looked away with a slight pout. "I suppose it's a trait that's more common in academia. Obviously, I'm not happy that women were murdered. But…" She lifted her hands as far as the shackles would allow, which wasn't far. "This is history! And it's history that I've dedicated fourteen years of my life to studying. It's…"

"Exciting?" Faith offered after a moment.

Nina didn't reply.

"I wonder how you'd feel if your neck was broken and you were stripped naked, posed and sprinkled with powder?" Michael said. "Would it be exciting? Would it be history?"

"You don't have evidence that I've committed a crime," Nina insisted. "You have evidence that I'm an unpleasant person in your opinion. I'm sorry to know that you feel that way about me. I didn't intend to come across that way."

"You were very keen to point out that the killer could be a woman," Faith reminded her. "In fact, you seemed almost offended that we behaved as though we were certain the killer was a man."

Nina didn't respond, but the way her lips twitched told Faith she had struck a nerve.

"So you have to admire the killer, at least," Michael said. "Otherwise, why would you want us to think of the killer as a woman? Why would you brag about the fact that a woman was more likely to commit the crime?"

Nina rolled her eyes but didn't respond.

"See, this is being uncooperative," Faith said. "This is the kind of thing that leads to multiple life sentences with no parole. I'm not going to lie and act like we can plea deal you down to fifteen years, but we can get you possibility of parole. You might be out in time to spend your golden years in comfort. You might even be able to get medium security instead of maximum. Trust me, there's a massive difference."

Nina took a deep breath and released it slowly. "It's not a crime to have a fascination with the macabre. There are people who collect human skulls or preserved fetuses."

"And I guarantee you, those people get talked to any time something odd happens in their neighborhoods," Michael replied.

"Well, you're not talking to me. You're accusing me. You arrested me."

"Because we don't just have a fascination in your case," Faith explained. "We have evidence."

"Mica powder that smells like whatever your dog found at the crime scene."

Faith frowned slightly. The more that was repeated, the thinner their evidence sounded. A spark of doubt flitted across her mind. She glanced at Michael and saw the same concern on his face. They needed more if they were going to charge Nina. They needed her to confess to something or let something slip that could give them more concrete evidence.

Faith decided to try a friendlier approach. "You know, you're right. We haven't given you a chance to explain your side of the story. Let's go back to the mica powder. You said you were using it for an artwork, right?'

Nina sat up straighter. Her eyes took on an almost desperate excitement. "Yes! Yes, that's true!"

"Do we have pictures of that art?" Faith asked Michael.

"Yep. The police sent some to me a few minutes ago."

He pulled the pictures up on his phone and showed them to Faith. Faith nodded, and Michael turned the phone to show the images to Nina. Nina frowned. "I told you it was a depiction of the Magnum Opus."

"See, here's what's interesting, though," Faith said, pointing at the first image. "See this girl? Dead ringer for Cassidy Holt."

"I didn't—"

"And the blonde looks an awful lot like Samantha Reynard," Michael said.

"Listen—"

"And this one," Faith said, swiping to the third image. "This one is what really makes me wonder. The curly red hair, the build, the birthmark just below her belly button on the left side: it's very hard for me to believe that it's coincidental that you have an almost exact image of Lorraine Hayes on your painting."

Nina's face was white as a sheet, and Faith felt some of her confidence return. "Do you have an explanation for that, Miss Verbeck?"

Nina began to tremble. "It's just a painting. I didn't mean anything by it."

"It's not just a painting," Michael corrected. "It's a painting of our victims."

"But…"

"How did you know Cassidy Holt?"

"I didn't. Lots of women are of average height and petite build with long dark hair."

"How many women have birthmarks like the one Lorraine Hayes has?"

Nina's lip trembled. "It was an aesthetic choice."

"An aesthetic choice to paint three women who match our victims down to their birthmarks? I don't buy it."

"You don't have to buy it," Nina replied. "It's the truth."

"Okay," Faith said, lifting her hands placatingly and speaking in a gentle voice. "Let's give you the benefit of the doubt for a second. Where were you last night?"

"Last night?"

"Last night. Between… what time does the library close, Michael?"

"Seven o'clock."

"Let's say between seven and nine o'clock."

"I was home. Eating dinner."

"Can anyone verify that?"

Nina's shaking grew more pronounced. "No," she said softly. "I live alone. My nearest neighbor is a quarter-mile away. You saw my house. It's surrounded by trees."

"What about two nights before that when Samantha Reynard was killed?"

Nina pressed her eyelids shut. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. "I was home."

"Alone?" Michael asked.

Nina nodded.

"And no one can verify that?" Faith asked.

She shook her head.

"What about three nights before that when Cassidy Holt was murdered?"

She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I was home."

They sat silently for a while. Faith broke the silence. "Can you see where we're coming from, Nina? We have a woman with mica powder, including quantities missing of the type used on the murder victims. We have a painting that looks damned close to a portrait of the victims precisely as they were found—including locations—and we have no alibi. We have this same woman showing great excitement at the killings and getting offended when we suggested the killer was a man."

Nina didn't speak for a while. Faith glanced at Turk. Turk kept a watchful eye on her but didn't seem particularly aggressive or perturbed. Well, that made sense. It wasn't like Nina was a threat to them. Even unshackled, there wasn't much she would be able to do to the two agents.

Finally, Nina took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, her face had regained some steel. "You have no real evidence. You have nothing placing me at the crime scene. You have circumstantial evidence mostly based on the fact that you don't like me. I understand your desperation to make an arrest, but I am the wrong person to arrest."

"Sure looks like you're the right person," Michael said.

"Then I would like a lawyer," Nina replied.

"We can go that route if you want," Faith replied, "but if we do, then there will be no deals. There will be no leniency. We will be pushing for consecutive life sentences without the possibility of parole, and we will ask that you be incarcerated in a maximum-security facility."

"I'm sure you'll do whatever you must to obtain what you believe to be justice," Nina said brittlely, "but any further conversation between us will take place in the presence of counsel. May I please have a phone to call my lawyer?"

Faith and Michael shared a look. It was Nina's right to have a lawyer, of course, but that would complicate and delay everything. This trial would be a minor sensation, and it would take months to make any sort of progress and possibly years to convict.

And Faith wasn't sure they had enough. Could she take the stand and convince a jury that Nina Verbeck was the murderer on the strength of a painting, some cheap powder and Turk's nose? She wasn't sure.

"Last chance to do this the easy way," Michael said.

"I'd like my phone call now," Nina said, her voice filled with dignity.

The two agents shared another look. Then Michael sighed, and the two of them stood. "We'll talk to the police about your phone call," he said. "I'm sure they'll accommodate you momentarily."

They left the room and went to the other side of the two-way mirror. On the way, they passed an officer carrying a cell phone. Hilary was nothing if not professional.

When they walked into the room, Hilary shared, "You had me worried for a moment. If that painting hadn't been clearly one of our victims, I would have thought you two had the wrong person."

Faith pressed her lips together and looked back through the mirror at the seated form of Nina Verbeck as she waited for the officer to dial her lawyer's number. "Yeah," she said. "Me too."

When she arrested Nina, she was absolutely certain that Turk had found their killer. But now? It just seemed very thin on reexamination. As Nina said, they had a lot of circumstantial evidence.

But did that evidence prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Nina was the murderer?