The Good Twin(52)

I took another sip of my coffee. “We have to go to the police.”

“I know.”

“They may charge you with conspiracy to commit murder.”

“Yes, they might.” The people at the table closest to us stood up to leave, and Mallory waited until they’d gone. “I’ve thought a lot about what to do.” She took her wallet from her purse, leafed through some cards until she found what she wanted, then pulled it out. “I know a policeman, well, sort of know him. I think we should call him, then go together to see him.”

I nodded. I didn’t care which policeman we went to, as long as he put a stop to this.



Thirty minutes later, we were sitting in an interrogation room in the Tenth Precinct of Manhattan, with Detective Kevin Saldinger. Mallory had met him in one of her art classes and thought he might be less likely to arrest her on the spot. The room smelled like a mixture of sweat and Pine-Sol. We had entered the white brick building on West Twentieth Street and been ushered right inside, after Mallory gave the desk officer her name.

“Thanks for seeing us so quickly,” Mallory said.

“You made it sound urgent.”

“It is.”

Mallory told him everything she’d told me. It was almost as painful hearing it the second time as it had been the first. When she finished, Detective Saldinger scratched his head. “Here’s the problem I see. I have you”—he pointed to Mallory—“confessing to a crime, with nothing concrete to tie it to your”—he pointed to me—“husband.”

“How would I benefit from killing my sister? Ben would inherit everything, not me.”

“I don’t know. Maybe you have some sort of vendetta against her. Maybe, for some reason, you hate her husband and want to set him up for this.”

“You can’t just do nothing,” I said. “I believe Mallory, and assuming she’s telling the truth, I’m afraid to go home. I’m afraid of what Ben might do.”

Mallory cut in. “Ben won’t hurt you while your father is alive. He’s afraid Rick will realize that I’m not you.”

“I didn’t say we wouldn’t do anything,” Saldinger said. “It’s just . . . we’re going to need more. Let’s say Mallory is telling the truth. Your husband doesn’t know she’s turned, and so he’s going along with a plan. That plan is to wait until after your father dies.”

I didn’t feel comforted. It had been difficult enough going home each evening to a man I knew was cheating on me. How could I carry off pretending I didn’t know he wanted to kill me? Mallory must have seen the worry in my eyes, because she reached over and took my hand.

“I know you’re strong enough to keep going, because I’m strong enough to keep playing along. And we’re the same, you and me.”

I felt the tears well up. I wanted my father to protect me, to keep me safe, but I couldn’t tell him what I’d learned. His condition was too fragile. I needed to bear this knowledge alone. I squeezed my hands together, willing myself to hold back from crying. “What should I do?”

“For now, it’s what Mallory should do. You need to string Ben along, pretend that nothing’s changed. New York’s a one-party consent state, so you can tape your conversations with him. Try to get him to talk about the plan. Do you know if he’s already found someone to kill your sister?”

Mallory shook her head.

“That’s key information. Try to get him to talk about it. If we get anything that corroborates your story, I’ll apply for a warrant.”

“What’s going to happen to me?” Mallory asked. “Will I be arrested?”

“From what you’ve told me, you’ve violated New York Penal Law Section 105.15—conspiracy to commit an A Felony. You’ve planned a murder with another person, and you’ve taken overt acts toward that end. Studying your sister in order to become her is part of the plan. You can get up to twenty-five years for that.”

The color drained from Mallory’s face, and I could see her hands start to shake.

“However,” the detective continued, “it helps that you’ve come forward this early, before a murder took place. If you work with us, help us get not only Ben but the guy he’s paid to do this, I suspect the DA would be willing to consider probation. But you’re going to end up with a record. That’s just a fact.”

I was glad. I wanted Mallory to pay something for what she’d agreed to do to me. “What should I do now?” I asked Saldinger.

He turned to me. “Just try to remain calm and act normally.”

Easy for him to say, I thought as we left the police station.





CHAPTER 36

I wandered back to the gallery in a fog. I didn’t know how I would return home tonight and not react to Ben. I didn’t know how I’d keep from my father all I’d learned today. He’d always been able to tell when something was bothering me. For once, I hoped that his illness would dull his observation skills.

Sandy handed me a list of phone calls I’d missed while I was out, and I began to return them, forcing myself to speak with a welcoming lilt to my voice. When finished, I returned to the tax records, losing myself in the dull minutiae of the numbers. Just before 6:00 p.m., I finally finished. With my elbows on my desk, I dropped my head into my hands and wondered how I would get through the next few weeks. I wondered how my husband had come to hate me so much.