We looked for four hours.
Bishop had told us not to. She had said, in the flat voice of a woman who knows exactly how this goes, that if we found it we would ruin it, and that a warrant team would be at the house at nine in the morning.
We looked anyway. Not for the bottle. I want that on the record, because Ilana Weisz asked me about it under oath eventually and I gave her the same answer.
We were not looking for the bottle. We were looking for Clara.
* * *
The bathroom off the west bedroom had eleven items in the cabinet and every one of them was four years old.
A tube of hand cream, hardened. Two hair ties. A bottle of paracetamol with six left. A box of plasters. A lipstick worn down at an angle that told you exactly how she held her mouth.
No amitriptyline.
"She wouldn't have
