“Maybe the aspect of the grandparents goes along with the planted pocket watch,” Dawson said.
She looked at him, puzzled. “What pocket watch?”
“I thought you knew,” he stammered.
“Knew what? What are you talking about?”
“An old-fashioned silver pocket watch with a black onyx inlay was found with your uncle. Someone had scratched the words, ‘blood runs deep’ on the inside of the cover.”
“What?” She looked baffled. “My uncle never owned anything like that. Where was the watch found?”
“In his mouth,” Dawson said quietly. She recoiled. “I’m sorry, Doctor. To have to tell you that.”
“Oh. No.” She looked away, her expression between angry and revolted. “Why didn’t anyone tell me about this? Why?”
He stayed quiet.
“Blood runs deep,” she repeated. “What does that mean?”
“Referring to family ties, maybe? What about your grandfather, Araba’s husband?”
“Grandpa Simon. He’s alive, but demented, poor man-lives with my aunt, Eileen Copper, who is Uncle Charles’s older sister.” Smith-Aidoo’s expression turned sardonic. “Auntie Eileen fancies herself the family researcher and genealogist and tries to come off as scholarly.”
She might be very useful, Dawson thought. “Can I speak to her?”
Smith-Aidoo shrugged. “Sure, if you like. I’ll text you her number.”
“Thank you.” He followed her the rest of the way to the study. He was hopeful that he would be lucky and discover something that would break the case open and neatly tie it up. Of course, it never worked out that way.
THE CARPETED STUDY WAS stifling, but the doctor switched on the AC, and the room began to cool off. Dawson saw she had been making an effort to sort out her uncle and aunt’s papers. Stacks of loose pages on the floor surrounded half-filled boxes labeled STMA, Malgam, Personal, Legal, and Misc, and the desk and file cabinet held more documents still.
“I apologize that it’s such a mess,” she said. “Superintendent Hammond and his guys looked through the paperwork, but as far as I know, they didn’t find anything useful. Maybe you’ll have better luck or a keener eye.”
“Thank you.” Dawson looked around the room, realizing something was missing. “There’s no computer. Didn’t your uncle use one?”
“He did have a laptop, which has disappeared. Hammond thinks possibly the killers stole it during the ambush.”
Dawson nodded. That would make sense, but he made a mental note to ask the superintendent about it.
“There’s something I want you to look at,” she said, sitting down on the floor in front of the STMA box with her legs folded under her. He followed her example, sitting opposite her.
