Lady Beatrin pressed her lips together, the only sign that Fellows’s question had discomfited her. “Yes, he came here the night Queen Callista died, but he left long before the guard found her. So if you’re looking for his alibi, you won’t find it here.”
Fellows made a noise that sounded like a muffled “Aha.” “So you are saying that we should be investigating your brother as a person of interest in the queen’s death.”
Lady Beatrin blinked twice. This time Fellows had caught her off guard. “You have made it clear you see reason to link Baurus’s and Callista’s names.” The duchess’s voice could have frozen the engine of an autocar. “Given that, I don’t see how you would not see him as a suspect.”
Wow. Even the king was willing to be explicit about the affair, yet Lady Beatrin feels the need to keep it secret. That doesn’t make her look dignified or circumspect. It makes her look foolish. Is it because women aren’t supposed to talk about these things?
Fellows tapped his pencil against the notepad. “Perhaps you can tell me what you and the duke discussed when he visited that afternoon.”
Lady Beatrin’s features smoothed, though whether she preferred the conversation’s new turn or wanted to school her expression, Kadin couldn’t tell. “Baurus was angry with me. He had had an unpleasant conversation with Callista that afternoon, and he blamed me, as he had visited her in order to retrieve a book I had lent her.”
Kadin glanced at the bookshelves in the room. She wouldn’t have thought the two Imperial women would have shared literary tastes. Further fodder for her theory that Lady Beatrin had little say in the room’s décor.
Fellows narrowed his eyes. “You sent your brother, the duke, on an errand to retrieve a book?”
Lady Beatrin’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. “The task required some delicacy, as Callista was unlikely to respond to the request of a mere servant, and I had promised to loan the volume to Elyesse Imbolc. Elyesse is such a sweetheart. One hates to disappoint her. Baurus had said he planned to see Callista in a few days. I did not ask him to make a special trip to see her, though he chose to do so.”
That was almost legitimate information from her, Kadin thought. Maybe she’s starting to crack.
But Fellows eased back a bit in his seat rather than press forward. “Did anything else happen between you and your brother that afternoon?”
The duchess’s features returned to a collected mask. “No. He expressed his anger and then left. He told me he was going home. I had no reason to doubt his words, though I can neither confirm nor deny their veracity.”
Fellows met Lady Beatrin’s eyes, his mouth set in a grim line. “Do you believe that Duke Baurus murdered Queen Callista?”
Lady Beatrin shifted her eyes and fixed her gaze on a point over Fellows’s shoulder. “You could hardly expect me to implicate my closest relative in murder, Detective.”
Lady Beatrin thinks her brother is guilty. Kadin put her pencil to her notepad but couldn’t bring herself to write the words.
Lady Beatrin stood up. “I think this conversation is finished. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment.”
“Of course.” Fellows stood and stuck his notebook in the pocket of his trench coat. “Please, call us if you think of anything else that could be of use in the investigation.” He handed her a card.
She stuck the card in her beaded clutch. “I’ll be sure to do that.”
More like she’ll forget about us the moment we’re gone, Kadin thought as she stood up.
“If you’ll follow me, I’ll have someone show you out.” Lady Beatrin strode over to the door and summoned a servant from the end of the hall.
She wants to be cool, calm, and collected, but there’s obviously more going on below the surface. Kadin thought back to Olivan’s story about Lady Beatrin and Garson Grey and looked at the austere sitting room with the blank desk and outdated furniture. I wonder if anyone in the Imperial sphere is who they seem to be.
An image of Duke Baurus flashed through her mind. She’d heard tales of rages, and seen a firsthand example of one, but she felt a momentary relief that he, at least, was exactly as he appeared.
Kadin tugged the paper out of the typewriter and, squinting, brought it close to her eyes. The letters on the last lines of her notes had come out uneven and barely legible.
Great. I have to replace the ribbon. If only I knew how to replace a typewriter ribbon. Between this and the java, I’m starting to suspect I don’t have any skills at all.
She pulled open her drawers and rifled through the contents until she found a ribbon in a plain white box. She opened the top of the typewriter and tugged at the spools holding the ribbon. When they didn’t budge, she fingered around until she found the latch that unsecured them. After that the old ribbon came out easily. She needed a few tries to wrangle the new ribbon between the wires, but in short order she had snapped the spools into place.
She felt a rush of satisfaction, which lasted until she picked up a piece of paper to test her handiwork. Her ink-covered hands left black smudges on the white surface. She sighed and went to the bathroom to wash her hands.
On the way back from the ladies’ room, the words “…Fellows’s new aide…” floated from the kitchenette.
I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but… She tiptoed closer to the door.
“Oh, yeah, I saw her.” A man whose voice Kadin didn’t recognize let out a whistle. “Boy, is she a stunner. She may well be the best-looking one he’s had, at least as long as I’ve been here.”
Kadin stood up straighter, until she heard a gruff tone. “She may be attractive, but I’m fairly certain she doesn’t have the smarts to fill a breadbox. She forgot to make the java this morning. I miss Auriel. She made those crumbly muffins, and she didn’t interfere with serious investigations.”
Kadin’s mouth fell open. I didn’t forget to make java, she wanted to say. I just… don’t know how! Somehow, that didn’t vindicate her, even in her own mind.
“That’s easy for you to say, Euston.” The first voice laughed. “You have a gorgeous wife already. Some of us don’t have something that nice to look at back home and like to see it at the office. I vote we let her do whatever feather-brained things she wants, as long as she keeps wearing those tight skirts.”
Kadin ran her hands down her skirt. They aren’t that tight, are they? But of course they were. She wore them to emphasize her shape.
“And some of us don’t have anyone at home at all.” One of the men opened the refrigerator as a new voice spoke. “I don’t suppose you homicide boys would be willing to share her with us? We could use a good laugh down in assault.”
“Eh, Dahran might have something to say about that,” said the first man. “Got a date with her on Saturday. Maybe the next one, Corners.”
Corners groaned. “I should be so lucky.”
You should be so lucky, Kadin thought. No woman would give you the time of day if she knew what you said about her!
But, then, you knew that Fellows hires his aides for their looks, thought another part of her. What did you think that meant?
The man who wasn’t Corners spoke again. “Anyone hear how the big investigation is going? Did they meet any Imperials?”
Euston coughed. “White didn’t get any good interviews, but he said Fellows got to meet the king. White got sent to the DeValeriel estate today, but he knew Duke Baurus would have disappeared by now. No one’s seen him since yesterday morning.
Kadin gasped. No one except me.
“Fellows has moved finding Baurus DeValeriel up to our number one priority,” said Euston.
Kadin’s hand flew up to cover her mouth. If Duke Baurus had disappeared, she was the only person involved in the case to have seen him.
I have to tell them what I know. Except…
She didn’t actually know anything. And even if she did, how could she get the team to listen?
Chapter 8
“Now, Drena is asleep and should be okay if you leave her alone. Aberon has been fussy lately, so if he wakes up, give him a glass of water, but don’t let him have any juice or he’ll be up all night.” Octavira crossed the kitchen and picked up her purse from the counter. “The Sanders live down the road, and we’re only going to be there for a few hours. You shouldn’t have any problems, but I left their ringer number on the counter. Oh, and if anything…”
Kadin tuned out the rest of Octavira’s speech, wishing her sister-in-law would have some faith in her. The two women didn’t always get along, but Kadin wouldn’t have wanted anything to happen to the children.
“Calm down, Vira.” Tobin came up behind his wife and began to rub her shoulders. “Kadin knows all this. It’ll be fine, right, K?”
“Absolutely.” Kadin gave Octavira what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
“The emergency and poison control numbers are on the counter as well,” Octavira told Kadin as Tobin dragged her toward the door. “And don’t eat anything out of the refrigerator, because we’re having leftovers for dinner tomorrow.”
“Bye, Kadin.” Tobin gave Octavira a little push out into the night air.
“Bye!” Kadin waved and shut the door behind them.
Kadin collapsed against the door and breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t mind spending most evenings with her brother and sister-in-law—well, with her brother, at any rate—but her career and marital prospects were contingent on having the kitchen to herself this evening.
She headed into the kitchen and regarded her nemesis: the java machine. An average passerby would have thought it an innocent, slightly tarnished appliance, but such a bystander had not spent two years avoiding it.
“You don’t look so tough.”
Kadin peeled off a filter from the stack and placed it in the top compartment of the machine. She scooped some java grounds into the white paper, poured water on top, and pressed the red button. She closed her eyes and braced for an explosion of wires and wet brown powder.
Nothing happened. The machine didn’t even make the hissing noises it did when Octavira started it. Or the horrible whirring noises the old one had made the last time she had tried to make java. Which had led to Octavira forbidding Kadin access to kitchen electronics. Kadin opened one eye and realized that the button hadn’t lit up.
Oh, brilliant, Kadin. It helps if you plug the thing in.
She groped around for the plug and stuck it into the outlet in the pastel blue wall. She pressed the switch again, and this time the machine buzzed to life. She kept her attention fixed on it as it hissed, steamed, and trickled its way through the java-creation process. After a few minutes, the aroma of java filled the air, the machine fell silent, and the light went off.
Kadin jumped to pour the brown liquid into Octavira’s least favorite cracked mug, then raised the cup to her lips. As soon as the java hit her tongue, she yelled and yanked the beverage away from her face, splashing steaming hot water onto her hand and the floor.
Idiot! She ran to the sink to run herself a glass of cold water, which she applied to her scalded tongue. What did you think was going to happen if you drank boiling java?
She wiped the water off the floor, and then started pacing across the kitchen, waiting for the pot to cool. She began next to the aqua-green refrigerator, passed the matching stove, and turned at the end of the row of dark brown plywood cabinets. Back and forth, in perfect time with the ticking wall clock above the steel sink. She tried to picture the admiring look on Dahran’s face when he tasted her perfect java, but an image of him dismissing her when he learned her non-existent culinary skills didn’t even extend to java making kept surfacing in her mind’s eye.
After five minutes, the steam rising from the pot had dissipated. Kadin poured herself a new mug and took a sip.
She gagged and spit the java back into the cup, realizing the flaw in her plan. The java could be better than the finest roasts in an Astrevian tea house or worse than the swill she had made that morning, and she would never know the difference, because all java tasted terrible to her.
She scrutinized the liquid in her cup. The color seemed a little lighter than what Octavira served Tobin every morning, and she didn’t think sediment was supposed to settle at the bottom of the mug.
I guess I could… Fudge. I have no idea.
A knock sounded at the back door.
Who could that be? She headed toward the sound, her mind still half on the java problem. Octavira retrieving her keys? Some neighbor making sure Octavira’s unmarried sister-in-law didn’t smother the children in their sleep?
She opened the door, and her heart stopped.
Standing on the other side was Duke Baurus DeValeriel.
He looked the same as he had when she saw him yesterday, still tall and broad enough to seem larger than life, with his thick hair looking desperate to break free from its smooth side part. He even wore the same suit, or one just like it. The Imperials did love their family colors. He probably didn’t leave his estate wearing anything other than DeValeriel red and black. The only thing that had changed was his face. She could only describe his current expression as one of total devastation. The energy rolling in waves off him made tears spring to her eyes, and she had to force herself to focus.
He raised his hand in a half-wave. “Hello. I came by to apologize.”
“Apologize?” For what? What is he doing here? Why is there a duke at my house?
“For yelling at you yesterday. And for throwing a book at you.” He looked around the yard and peered into the house. “Look, can I come in?”
He might be a murderer, her brain yelled at her. You can’t let him into the house! She knew she should close the door in his face, but she remained in the entryway, unmoving. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He huffed. “Do I need to remind you that you’re alone in the house with two small children, and I’m wanted for murder?”
He’s threatening me. She knew she should listen to him, but somehow she didn’t feel intimidated. His words said she was in danger, but his face, his posture, said that if she insisted he go, he would go. “So you’re going to kill me? The way you killed Queen Callista?”
At that, he looked angry. “Let me in, and you won’t have to find out.”
Shut the door in his face, Kadin thought. He won’t really do anything, will he?
He won’t hurt me. I’d bet my life on it. She stared into his flashing hazel eyes. But I can’t bet Aberon’s and Drena’s. Cursing herself, she held the door open and stood aside so that he could enter.
The duke’s gaze flicked around the room, and for a moment, Kadin considered what her house must look like to him. The simple faux mica table and plastic chairs, the kitschy poodle lamp, the department store family click, all of them must have screamed “commoner” to someone of his standing.
She moved to pick up some papers Tobin had left scattered on the table. “How did you find me? I don’t remember leaving a posting address with you. Or a name, for that matter.”
“It wasn’t that hard to find your name—you were the only woman on the investigation team. Your address was in the ringer guide.” The corners of his mouth quirked upward. “Besides, you kind of stand out.”
Her heart beat faster. What does that mean?
But his smile faded, and whatever he had thought about her had gone. He looked toward the framed family portrait on the wall, and a wave of despair washed over his face.
Well, of course, Kadin thought. Didn’t he just lose the love of his life?
Didn’t he just kill the love of his life, more like.
“I realize how this all looks. Me, Callis
ta, her… death. I came by because I wanted to tell someone my side of the story, and I figured you would be more inclined to listen than the rest of those… gentlemen.”
Kadin wasn’t sure what word the duke had intended to insert in place of “gentlemen,” but she suspected Octavira would not approve of its presence in her kitchen.
Duke Baurus sniffed at the air. “Isn’t it a little late for java?”
An idea struck her. She pointed to the table. “Sit down.”
The duke raised an eyebrow but pulled out a chair and complied with her request. Kadin went into the kitchen, pulled another mug—one of the best. Octavira would flip, but she would be even more upset if a duke thought she used chipped dishes—down from the cabinet, and poured a fresh cup of java.
Kadin put the cup in front of Duke Baurus. “Drink that.”
With an amused gleam in his eye, he picked up the cup and put it to his mouth. Kadin barely had time to feel an inexplicable burst of pleasure that she had improved his mood, however temporarily, before he sputtered and sprayed java across the room.
Kadin waited until he was done making faces. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s disgusting!” He gagged and stuck out his tongue.
Kadin tapped her foot. “I know it’s disgusting. What specifically is wrong with it?”
“You can’t tell?”
“No, I think all java is disgusting.” Kadin made an exasperated noise. “Look, they expect me to make java at work, and I don’t know how. My sister-in-law doesn’t usually let me use the java machine, after it exploded that one time—”
He smirked. “Exploded?”
Kadin felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Yes, but I still maintain that it wasn’t my fault. She hadn’t told me that she had already put water in it, and I’m fairly certain that the machine was faulty anyway. Anyway, it was two years ago, so it shouldn’t matter anymore.” She sighed. “But my java is undrinkable, and I need to learn to make it before I get fired. So tell me what’s wrong with it.”
Catching a Man Page 10