The downpour had just let up, but a light drizzle still fell. When Nimossini and Schiller both declined the offer to ride in a police car, she seemed exceptionally calm. When Schiller drove his own car and took her with him, she raised no objections either, merely staring blankly at the rain outside the window.
"The wound contained fibers from the lining inside the leather cushion of the bar stool. They were left behind when I stabbed the letter opener into it. You deliberately didn't clean them up, and you let Gordon see them when he came to visit, so he would know it was my handiwork," Nimossini said. "And you didn't stop me from going crazy in your house because you knew the letter opener was the only weapon I could get my hands on. If I wanted to attack something, I could only use that. If the police investigate now, they'll find nothing but my fingerprints on it. And I'm a high-functioning child with a history of mental illness. No one would think I was incapable of murder."
"The flaw is that I had no grudge against the mayor, and I have an alibi for the time of his death. But those things can be overturned. My background is tragic, so it would be perfectly natural for me to blame the mayor. Gordon is my adoptive father and could have fabricated an alibi for me. You are my psychologist and might conceal the truth out of sympathy. The jury might not accept either of your testimony."
"Besides, many of the officers who saw me would want me dead, because then the mayor's death couldn't be traced back to the employer behind them. No one wants this trouble right now. Letting a mentally ill child take the blame is