Widows

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The only clues to the savage killing of a beautiful young woman in a lush penthouse apartment are a steamy collection of erotic letters and thirty-two separate knife wounds - clues are fewer still for her elderly lover, shot four times in the head.

The dead man has left behind four other women: his ex-wife and their two daughters, and his present wife. Four mourners.

Four suspects. For Detective Steve Carella it's a crime that

strikes close to the heart - his own mother has just become a

widow herself...

"Angela," he said, "it's Steve."

She'd been crying, her voice revealed that.

"We just got back from the hospital," she said.

"What happened?" he asked. "Was it his heart again?"

"No, Steve. Not his heart."

"Then what?"

"We went there to make positive identification."

For a moment he didn't quite understand. Or didn't choose to understand.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"We had to identify the body."

"Why? Angela, what happened?"

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