“Now Watt,” Sheila began, taking a sip of tea, “what did you see?”
I paused, surprised by her question. “Well, I saw what you saw, I guess…”
“And what was that?”
“A dead woman, a shattered vase, a tell-tale knife and a puddle of dry blood.”
Sheila laughed. “No nonsense, are we? But you’re right, those were surface details. What else did you see?”
“Other than the apartment?”
“That would be rather helpful, yes.”
I shrugged. “I imagine I can see as well as you can, but I don’t know what you saw that I didn’t.”
“Ah,” she said, putting down her teacup, “but you haven’t observed. For example, you saw me examine Lizzy and then study the knife?”
“Yup.”
“Did you see any cuts of any kind on her body?”
“Well, no.”
“You see the method to my madness? The knife, therefore, was not a weapon. I looked in the dishwasher and drawer, to find all utensils except knives in the dishwasher. The puddle had left streaks, where the young man had tried to scrape the blood into a more condensed puddle.”