Read Online The Corpse with the Emerald Thumb by Cathy Ace - Free Book Online

all know a great deal about the victim. And that knowledge could lead us to discover who the murderer really is . . . and why Margarita, apparently, had her throat slashed and was strangled.”
    â€œBut we know who the killer is,” shouted Dorothea. I wondered if she had any idea how to use a normal speaking voice. “It’s that horrible man!”
    I didn’t like to hear Bud spoken of that way: I worked hard to prevent my expression from betraying my feelings toward Dorothea. My sympathies toward her were evaporating.
    â€œI think that Cait means we can find out who the killer really is, rather than who the real killer is, isn’t that right, Cait?” Frank Taylor leaped to my defense.
    He was totally wrong, of course, but I didn’t want anyone to know that. “That’s exactly right,” I said as brightly as possible.
    â€œAh, if only we could afford to retain the services of the famous Professor Morgan,” said Al, watching my eyebrow rise, “but Cait Morgan, the private individual, is here for a vacation, not to work on a case.” He looked a little disappointed.
    I decided to go in for the kill. Obviously this man was ambitious, otherwise why would a local cop in one of Mexico’s smallest municipalities be a part-time criminology student? He must want to better himself. I saw how I could insert myself into the case, find out who had really killed Margarita, and clear Bud. I had to be careful to go about things the right way. I didn’t want to appear to be too keen to get involved, but I also didn’t want to put him off to the point where he’d feel guilty about accepting my insights.
    â€œYou know what,” I opened, “it sounds like a fascinating case. With all due respect to the late Margarita and you, her friends, I think I would find it an interesting challenge, that is if you don’t mind me asking you lots of questions about Margarita, her life, and maybe even your lives?”
    There were general shrugs around the room. I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that Al had the look of a hungry man eyeing up a meal.
    â€œI wouldn’t want to impose,” he said quietly.
    â€œSo you think you can work out who this murderer is, just by asking us all a bunch of questions?” asked Frank Taylor hesitantly.
    Al managed a weak smile—and a slight eye-roll—in my direction.
    I stepped up. “Not exactly. What I do is try to understand the life of the victim, because this often opens up possible reasons for them having been killed. You see, without giving you the full lecture on the subject, more often than not there is some link between a victim and the person who killed them. This is especially the case when it comes to premeditated murder. Most murders are carried out by someone very close to the victim—a spouse, family member, or very close friend. That’s where most investigations start, and where I’d start too: with the victim’s closest family and friends.”
    â€œBut Margarita couldn’t possibly have known the man that Al has in custody, or someone would have recognized him. Oh!” Dorothea dramatically clapped her hand to her forehead. “Of course—he’s a hit man, that’ll be it!” She looked triumphant for an instant, then crestfallen. “But why? Why would a hit man come here to kill Margarita?”
    â€œWe don’t know everything about Margarita,” said Ada Taylor quite timidly. She seemed surprised to discover she’d spoken aloud.
    Frank took his chance to leap to his wife’s defense. “That’s true, Dorothea. We all knew her, to some degree or other, but that’s really just her professional life, you know, her flowers, her plants, and her photography.”
    Photography? Interesting.
    â€œYes,” agreed Ada, spurred on by her husband’s support, “I’ve never even met her at a social engagement when