Neither woman said a word while Amy collected herself. “I haven’t thought about all of this for a long, long time. It’s something I tried very hard to forget.”

  Claire waited a little longer and then asked, “I read something about red powder in the room. There was red powder sprinkled around the scene?”

  “I didn’t even notice it at first. I was so shocked by what had happened. My mind couldn’t process it. I only noticed the powder when we came back to the room with Henry Prior. I was so stunned that Leslie was dead that I wasn’t thinking straight. I grabbed Peter’s arm and pulled him out of there and down the hall to Henry’s apartment. We got Henry and went back to Leslie’s room. He took one look at her and ran to his place to call the police. Peter went with him. I stood there in the room … just staring at the bed, at Leslie buried under the coat and blankets. It was like time stopped. My eyes wandered around the room. I noticed the red powder and wondered what in the world it was.”

  Amy took a deep breath. “Henry came back after he called the police. He took my arm and walked me to the living room where we waited. Peter was in the hall sitting on the floor, slumped against the wall.” The woman touched her forehead. “I felt like I was in some alternate universe or something. I felt like I’d left my body and was hovering over the scene watching.”

  “Was the red powder on the body?”

  “Yes, it was. I saw it on Leslie when I lifted up the coat.”

  “What about the window?” Claire asked.

  “The window?” Amy blinked not comprehending.

  “In Leslie’s room. Was it open?”

  Amy looked out the window of her office for several moments. “The police asked me the same question. I’m not sure.”

  “Think about entering the room. The windows were on the left wall. Leslie liked to sleep with the windows open.” Claire kept her voice calm and encouraging. “What sort of day was it? Was it hot? Cooler?”

  “It wasn’t hot. It was cooler than it had been. The few days before had been too hot, our apartments were steamy, but then it cooled down the day before Leslie died.”

  “How did it feel in her apartment? Can you remember walking into the place? Was it uncomfortably warm?”

  Amy turned her head slowly to Claire, her eyes wide. “When I was in the bedroom alone with Leslie’s body … when Henry and Peter went to call the police … I remember looking around the room. I saw the red powder. Leslie was on the bed. It felt stuffy in there. The window, it was only open about an inch. I thought about opening it wide, but I couldn’t move my legs.”

  Claire nodded. “When you were in the bedroom, did you happen to notice Leslie’s excavation tools? She kept some of them in a wooden box.”

  “I’d seen the box. It was usually on the bookcase in the living room.”

  “Did you see it that day?”

  “I don’t think so. I didn’t pay attention. It was probably there, but I don’t recall seeing it.”

  “Were there any tools in the bedroom?” Claire asked.

  “I’m not aware of any. There could have been.”

  “The murder weapon has never been found,” Claire said. “Did you notice anything on the bed? A tool? A hammer? A rock? Anything that might have been used as a weapon?”

  “I only lifted the edge of the coat that was covering Leslie. I didn’t see anything on the bed.”

  Claire gave the woman a soft smile. “Leslie had a trowel she used on digs. It had mother-of pearl inlays in the handle. Did you ever see it?”

  “Yes. It used to be Professor Ambrose’s. He gave it to Leslie when we were in Iraq.”

  “Professor Ambrose gave it to her?” Claire’s heart began to pound.

  “Leslie liked it,” Amy said. “She asked where he got it. I saw it in her tool box when we were leaving Iraq. Leslie told me Professor Ambrose gave it to her.”

  A shiver ran over Claire’s skin. When she and Nicole talked with Professor Ambrose, he had conveniently left that fact out.

  13

  Dr. Henry Prior, now in his sixties, was a medical anthropologist working as a researcher at one of the larger Boston hospitals. Claire arrived at his office in the hospital to find a medium-height, medium-weight, slightly balding man with clear blues eyes. Prior met Claire with a warm smile and a firm handshake and he ushered her into his ninth-floor office with huge windows looking over the city.

  “I’m very pleased that you’re looking into Leslie’s death. I can’t believe it’s been almost thirty-five years since it happened.” Prior removed his glasses, cleaned them with a small cloth, and placed them back on his head. He looked at Claire with a sigh. “How can I help?”

  “I’d like to get your impressions from the time of the murder. I’d like to know more about Leslie Baker. Anything you can tell me will be helpful.”

  “Where should I start?” Dr. Prior asked.

  “You were a student in the anthropology department?” Claire asked.

  “I was. As you know, my specialty is medical anthropology.”

  “And you lived in the same building with Leslie?”

  The man gave a slight nod. “Our apartments were on the same floor. Leslie was a second year student then. I was a sixth year, working to finish up my dissertation.”

  “You were dating Amy Wonder at the time?” Claire asked.

  “Yes, we’d been dating for about two years.”

  “You broke off the relationship?”

  “We did. We both felt it wasn’t the right match. The breakup was mutual with no hard feelings between us.”

  “Did you grow apart, is that what happened?”

  “None of us who knew Leslie were in very great shape, probably for a year after it happened. I think Amy and I weren’t that supportive of each other. When something like that hits close to home, you have to struggle your way through feelings of grief and horror.” Prior paused for a moment. “The world doesn’t feel safe anymore. You’re not as resilient as you once might have been. Little things bother you. You’re not as patient. Your feelings are raw. Amy’s and my relationship suffered from having to deal with Leslie’s murder.”

  “Can you tell me a little about Leslie?”

  Prior smiled. “She was a lot of fun. Witty, intelligent, a great conversationalist, always ready for an adventure. She took her work seriously. Leslie loved her chosen field, loved going on digs. She knew a lot about different subjects, was well-read, knew current events.”

  “That was Leslie’s first year living in the building?”

  “Yes, it was. Her first year, she lived in the graduate dorms.”

  “Did you know her before she moved into the building?”

  “I might have seen her around, but we had never been introduced. She was at the beginning of her studies, I was at the end so we didn’t really cross paths much.”

  “Did you socialize with one another?”

  “Sometimes we did. Amy and Jill lived in the apartment across from Leslie. I was down the hall, near the front of the building. There was another person across from me. Amy, Jill, Leslie, me, sometimes Peter, would get together to watch a movie, talk, have a few drinks, play cards. We usually congregated in Amy and Jill’s place. It had a bigger living room.”

  “How did everyone get along?”

  “Great. We enjoyed each other’s company.”

  “Before the murder, did Leslie seem out of sorts, angry or upset about anything?”

  Prior’s face took on a serious expression as he thought back over the decades. “I can’t say I picked up on anything. I don’t recall Leslie seeming different. She didn’t tell me about anything that was upsetting her. She might have confided in Amy or Jill though.”

  “On the morning after the murder, Amy and Peter came to get you?”

  Prior stiffened as he moved his gaze to the top of his desk. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “They did. It was around noon. I’d slept late and was eating breakfast when they came to my apartment. Peter shouted my name from the hall. My door wasn’t locked … they barged right in. As soon as I saw their faces, I knew something was very wrong.”

  Letting out a long breath, he went on with the story. “They were babbling and I could barely understand what they were saying. All I could make out was that something was wrong with Leslie. We hurried back to Leslie’s place and went into the bedroom. As soon as I stepped into the room, I knew it was bad. Leslie was on the bed. She was covered with a blanket, a coat, some other things. It looked ridiculous, all these items piled up on her. Amy told me to pull the blanket back.” Prior’s hands balled up. “I knew she was dead. There was blood, on her face, neck, around her head. It took a very long time not to see that scene over and over in my dreams.”

  “Did you notice anything that might have been the murder weapon?”

  “I didn’t, no.”

  “What happened next?” Claire questioned.

  “I turned around and went back to my apartment. I called the police.”

  “Why didn’t you call from Leslie’s apartment?”

  Prior brought his hand to his temple. “I don’t know why. Maybe subconsciously I just wanted to get out of there. I didn’t even think of using Leslie’s phone.”

  “After you called, did you return to Leslie’s place?”

  “Yes. I went back. Peter was sitting in the hallway outside Leslie’s apartment. He was leaning against the wall, he had his head in his hands. Amy was still in Leslie’s bedroom, just standing there where we left her. I took her hand and we went to the living room, sat on the couch and waited for the police. Amy broke down in tears. It seemed to take so long for the cops to arrive.”

  Claire waited a few moments before asking, “No one heard shouts or screams or noise of a struggle that night?”

  Dr. Prior shook his head. “I didn’t hear anything. No one on our floor heard anything.”

  “When you were in Leslie’s bedroom, did you notice if the window was open or closed?”

  “I think it was closed, but I wasn’t paying any attention to the windows. I can’t say for sure.”

  “Do you think someone might have come in through the window? Do you think it was a random murder?”

  “No, I don’t.” Prior’s voice was strong. “I never believed it was a random thing. The front door of the building was always unlocked. Wouldn’t someone who wanted to get in try the door first? Wouldn’t a person climbing up the fire escape be suspect? Why call attention to yourself like that? It was late at night. Just walk in the front door.”

  “That makes sense,” Claire said. “So was it a random person who came in the front door or was it someone Leslie knew?”

  “It was someone Leslie knew.” Prior nodded to emphasize his words. “Otherwise, wouldn’t she have cried out?”

  “She might have been asleep when the intruder came in.” Claire watched Prior’s face.

  “I don’t think so. The police put the time of death at around two hours after we were all together in Amy’s apartment. Leslie came home from being out with Peter and she stopped by to chat. After about forty-five minutes, Leslie went home and then Jill left for her boyfriend’s place. I left about an hour after Leslie. In my apartment, I had a beer and went to bed. I couldn’t have been in a very deep sleep when the intruder committed the crime. I think Leslie might have stayed up for a while to study. When I left Amy’s apartment, I saw light under Leslie’s door. By the time she went to bed, she couldn’t have been in a very deep sleep when the killer arrived. If she’d just dozed off, she would have heard him.”

  “So you think someone Leslie knew came by and she let him in?”

  “I think so, yes.”

  “If they’d gotten into a fight, wouldn’t someone on the floor have heard them yelling?”

  “Maybe they didn’t yell. Maybe they had words and the killer became furious and struck out at her. It might have been quick.”

  “Do you think it was premeditated?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Had you ever seen red powder in Leslie’s apartment?”

  “No. I don’t know what that was about. Leslie may have had it in her place for painting. Just because I never saw it, doesn’t mean it wasn’t there.”

  “Do you remember seeing the red powder in the bedroom that morning?”

  Prior blinked. “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know if I noticed it or thought it was blood spatter or maybe I think I saw it because I’ve heard others talk about it. I was in shock. I don’t know if what I remember about that day was how it was or how I think it was.”

  “It’s a very honest answer.” Claire made eye contact with the man. “Did the police ask you all of these questions? Did they talk to you more than once?”

  “They talked to me the day we found Leslie. I also went into the station one day to answer more questions.”

  “Do you think they considered you a suspect?”

  Prior looked surprised at the question. “They might have initially. They seemed satisfied with my answers. They talked to me only the two times.”

  “When you think back on that night, do you recall if you slept well?”

  Prior’s jaw seemed to slacken. “I remember having a restless sleep. I think it was because I had too many beers that night. I didn’t drink a lot, but they seemed to hit me hard. I was wound up about my dissertation. I’d had a meeting with my advisor and he was hard on me. I was upset about it.”

  “You tossed and turned?”

  “I woke up after falling asleep. I couldn’t fall back so I got up and had a glass of milk.”

  “Did you notice the time when you woke up?”

  “I didn’t.”

  Something about what Prior had said picked at Claire. “When you were awake, did you hear anyone talking in the hallway, anyone walking out in the hall or on the stairs?”

  “No. I got the glass of milk and went back to my room. I didn’t hear anyone in the hall.”

  “Did you go right back to sleep?”

  “I sat in the chair by my window and drank the milk, then I went to the bathroom and got back in bed.” Prior’s eyebrow went up. “My bedroom is at the front of the building, almost right over the front door. While I was in the chair, I heard the door thud closed and I leaned to look out. It was only Peter. He was leaving the building.”

  “Peter Safer? Leslie’s boyfriend?”

  “Yes. He must have been studying with Leslie.”

  “If that was the case, then the murder must have been committed after Peter left the building and you went back to sleep?”

  “Yes, it must have been. I fell into a deep sleep after I had the milk and didn’t wake up until 11:30 the next morning.”

  Claire kept her voice even when she made her next comment. “You didn’t mention that Peter was in Amy’s apartment when you were all together the night of the murder.”

  “Didn’t I?” Prior’s forehead scrunched. “I think he was there. I’m pretty sure he was. Yes, he left Amy’s before I did. He must have come back to study with Leslie.”

  “And you didn’t take a look at the clock when you woke up during the night? Can you make a guess what time it was?”

  “I didn’t look at the clock. I have terrible eyesight, but I didn’t have my glasses on. I didn’t bother to look at the clock because I wouldn’t have been able to see it.”

  “But you were able to see Peter Safer leaving the building that night?”

  “Peter was under the light that was over the building’s front door. People have a distinctive way of moving. I could tell it was Peter.”

  “Did you tell the police you saw Peter leaving the building late at night?”

  “I must have.”

  Claire gave a nod, but something about Dr. Prior’s information didn’t sit right with her. Why didn’t it?

  14

  Claire entered Tony’s Market to see Tony and Tessa flirting with one another across the counter like two teenagers. Tessa’s bright smile remained on her face when she saw Claire, but Tony erased his grin, pulled himself up to full height, and adjusted his white apron while his cheeks turned pink. The Corgis ran over to Tony with wagging tails.

  “Afternoon, Blondie.” He nodded to the woman standing on the other side of the counter from him before bending down to pat his two favorite dogs. “Tessa’s here.”

  Claire tried to stifle a chuckle. “I can see that.” She went to Tessa and gave her a hug.

  “How are things going?” Tessa eyed the young woman. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes.” Claire and Tessa headed to the small café table at the back of the store where Augustus Gunther sat with his newspaper and a cup of coffee. The women greeted the older judge and sat down with him.

  Claire said, “Nicole and I have been interviewing people about the Leslie Baker cold case. I get the feeling some of them are not telling us the full story.”

  “Maybe it’s the full story as they know it,” Tessa suggested.

  “Or as they remember it,” Augustus added. “It was a long time ago. Things have a way of getting embellished or changed or deleted.”

  “So some might not be intentionally trying to mislead us?”

  “I’d say that probably is correct.” Augustus lifted his mug.

  Narrowing her eyes, Claire said, “But others might be trying to mislead.”

  “It’s possible.” Augustus adjusted his bow tie. “Why would someone do that?” the man asked as if he were instructing a law school class.

  “Because,” Claire said. “The person might know the killer and is protecting him … or the person giving me wrong information might be the killer himself.”

  “Any other reasons to mislead?”

  Claire tilted her head to the side in thought. “I can’t think of any.”

  Augustus proposed an idea. “Perhaps, the person you’re talking to has a gripe against someone and wishes to present some evidence to make that someone a suspect.”

  Tessa looked questioningly at the judge. “Why wait until now to make a false claim against someone? Why not tell the police right away?”

 

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