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“‘Likely.’ Not as specific as you’d expect from a coroner.”

“Sussman was a homeless addict with a long rap sheet of petty theft, no known family. Just your essential nobody. There was heroin at the scene, a syringe, a little cookin’ kit. Not a case where the law requires toxicology.”

She resorts to her wine again and then says, “So you didn’t tell him there was a security camera at your house.”

He drinks some wine and puts the glass down and leans forward with his muscular arms on the table. “You do really tickle me.”

“How much did Sussman want paid to rape and kill her?”

“A hundred up front, then four hundred plus ten decks of heroin when it was done. You’re so smart, maybe you want to guess the true cost?”

“Once you knew Tanya was dead, you went to Sussman’s tent. You probably didn’t even take the four hundred with you. And only one packet of heroin.”

Pouring more wine for himself, Deacon says, “He wasn’t goin’ to need ten decks.”

“You watched him cook the heroin and inject it.”

“He was so happy that I was pleased.”

Vida says, “You must’ve gotten the heroin from Belden Bead.”

“My cousin was the go-to man in this county. He gave it to me free, an expression of family solidarity.”

“Either he or you doctored the packet with something to be sure it would kill Sussman.”

Pushing the wine bottle toward her, Deacon says, “Digitoxin.”

“So he had a massive heart attack within a few minutes.”

“Almost immediately, chokin’ on his vomit. Darlin’, it’s like you were there. You really are somethin’.”

“All it cost you was a hundred dollars.”

“Not even. Before leavin’ that tent, I took back the seventy-six bucks he hadn’t spent.”

“Frugal of you.”

“Waste not, want not. So slidin’ Tanya out of my life cost me twenty-four bucks. Then of course there were the funeral expenses, though I saved a pretty penny by goin’ for cremation and a little urn rather than embalmin’ and a casket.”

Pouring more wine that she doesn’t intend to drink, Vida allows the bottle to rattle once against the glass. She doesn’t overplay it by faking an extended tremor.

“Why did you want so bad to be rid of Tanya?”

“You wouldn’t ask if you’d known her.”

“But I didn’t know her.”

“She wasn’t the sparklin’ conversationalist that you are. She wouldn’t stop talkin’ about babies.”

“She wanted a baby?”

He softly drums the fingers of both hands on the table, making a sound like the rataplan of rain on a roof. “Wouldn’t shut up about it. I wasn’t bangin’ the bitch to make babies. I was bangin’ her to bang her. We had different ideas about the purpose of marriage.”

“Ever consider divorce?”

“Not after she betrayed me.”

“She betrayed you?”