I gotta figure out some things on this one, and right quick.
Lieutenant Curwin asked about the most obvious possibility first: “Was the murderer covering his tracks? Trying to keep you from sniffing out his identity?” He also seemed interested in my work in general, which I do like to see in a man.
“If he did, ‘twould be hideous overkill,” I replied, still trying to find any trace of death-residue that might be read holographically (more Old American, I’m afraid). “Even if I could reconstruct a spirit that existed in this space at the time of the murder, it could only give me a surface idea of who attacked the victim. The murderer would have to be of extremely high rank to justify the magical energy it would take to wipe a site this clean.”
“How high rank?” asked Marsh.
“Let me put it this way, Horace: if I was seriously considering this possibility, I would be asking you if the President had an alibi.” I smiled. “Although I can’t imagine what motive your grand-uncle might have.”