Was Eric alone when he killed Roland?
We thought so at first.
Then, slowly, my sister and I, and our mother, were able to see more of the room in the pictures given to our minds. Through the broad west-facing window of the future bedroom looked in a face.
The bedroom and window as it is today.
It was an evil face, though it was but a man’s, and in his eyes burned a gruesome delight. He was clearlyenjoying the fact of the murder.
He glanced at Eric’s stricken face, then leaned upward from his ladder to stare at Roland, crumpled on the floor, his lifeblood draining out from the wound in his head.
Who was this man, and what was he doing?
We knew well enough that he was hired to help on the house, perhaps by painting, or by putting in windows. But did he belong here, really? Where had he come from? And where would he go, when this job was done?
Something whispered to our minds that he was more involved in this murder than his position outside the window suggested.
To be continued…
Part 8
Part 9
