Hector had been visualizing the progression of events and was experiencing a wave of nausea. He paused a beat before asking his next question.

“Which one first?”

“Clara,” Lefkowitz said, without hesitation.

“How can you-”

“Blood spatter analysis.”

“So Clarice knew it was coming?”

“Must have. But not for long.”

“For her sake, I hope you’re right. But why shoot them at all? Why not just tie them up?”

“You want a guess?”

“Tell me.”

“To forestall identification.”

“You think they came in here without masks? That would have been stupid.”

“We already know they’re vicious. What’s to say they’re not stupid? But there’s another possibility.”

“Which is?”

“Maybe they had masks, but hadn’t put them on. Maybe they’d planned to do that after they were inside. But then, surprise, surprise, there’s Clara standing in the darkened kitchen.” Hector shook his head. “I don’t buy it,” he said. “She would have heard them; she would have tried to run.”

“Ah, but how about if she didn’t hear them?”

“How could she not? They smashed that door over there. That’s how they got in, right?”

“That’s what we’re supposed to think. I think they smashed it on the way out.”

“What?”

Lefkowitz held up a hand for patience. “Bear with me. Remember that commotion I mentioned? The one the neighbor heard? It was a loud bang, and it woke him up. Seconds later, he saw a car driving away. Between the bang, and the driving away, the killers wouldn’t have had time to do anything other than run up the ramp to the street. And, if they’d been lugging an unconscious woman, there wouldn’t even have been time for that. I figure they put her into the car first.”