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by Robin Jeffrey

  I became aware of Belinda and Victoria standing behind me, sobbing. But my limbs refused to do their duty and kept me staring at the thing on the floor. Merton surged to his feet, his voice hoarse. “Get them out!”

  My whole body jumped as muscle memory took over. I pulled Victoria to my side, forcing her face into my shoulder so she could no longer look at the bloody pulp on the floor. Belinda had not screamed, but her face was grey, eyes glazed as if she might faint at any moment. I slung an arm around her waist and dragged them both outside, laying Victoria down on the small bench in the hallway and propping Belinda up against the wall.

  The clicking of doors echoed around me, frantic voices coming from downstairs. At the end of the hall, Cadence’s head appeared from around her door. She took one look at me and ran out into the corridor, hands clenched by her side. “What’s going on?”

  My tongue sat heavy in my mouth. I reached out to her. “There’s… I– I–”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Desdemona tear out of her room and onto the landing, running towards my father’s door. Turning, I thrust myself in front of her, pushing her away from the horrible scene. “Desdemona! Desdemona, don’t!”

  Henry and his father rushed up the stairs, Minerva waiting at the bottom, clutching her dressing gown closed. Behind me the door clicked open, and I moved back to allow Dr. Merton to exit.

  He stared at the floor, closing the door, hand lingering over the handle. “I’m going to call the Enforcement Office. I suggest that we all go downstairs and wait for them.” The doctor’s gaze moved over the crowd. “Felix has been murdered.”

  Desdemona’s cry pierced the air, her hands flailing around her face. She lunged forward, but the shock was too much for her, and she fainted dead away in my arms. I tried to hold her up, but I didn’t have the strength to keep myself standing, stumbling under the burden and falling against the wall.

  Solomon squeezed my shoulder. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. He said something to me, words of comfort or instruction, I can’t remember. Henry took Desdemona without a word, his face blank as he carried her downstairs. Cadence stepped forward to support the unsteady frame of Belinda, brushing a hand against my chest as she crossed in front of me. She followed Henry down, leading Belinda along like a child. The rest of us trailed after them, dragging ourselves away from the scene of the crime in an all too quiet procession.

  I have little memory of what happened between the moment when I opened the door onto my father’s body and finding myself in the sitting room, collapsed in an armchair by the darkened windows. Like a drunken man coming out of an alcoholic stupor, I became aware of my surroundings by slow degrees. The minutes passed like hours. I waited for some emotion, any emotion, to sweep over me and fill the gaping hole that sucked at my chest. But there was nothing.

  Dr. Merton was out in the foyer on the phone, his voice tremulous. When he returned, he went straight to Desdemona, whom Henry had laid out on the large couch, and began to tend to her as best he could. No one spoke. A few times I heard someone crying, realizing with a certain numbness that it was Belinda, a woman who, in my memory, had never cried in her life. I curled deeper into my chair and tried to block out her weeping, running my hands down my face.

  At last, the doorbell chimed, and stamping boots skittered into the entryway. Small groups of EO officers marched past the open sitting room door. Inspector Brisbois appeared around the door frame, face drawn, and his sharp green eyes surrounded by dark circles. “Dr. Merton?”

  The doctor propped pillows underneath Desdemona’s head, her brow slick with perspiration, before he rose to his feet. Brisbois nodded, his tone as conversational as the firm line of his mouth was not. “Good morning.” He gestured behind himself to a small group of people wearing green plastic suits. “If you could please show these men to the body, we can get started.”

  Dr. Merton went without a word. Brisbois leaned back into the room, resting his weight against the door frame. “Ladies and gentlemen, I will be with you in a moment.” He disappeared down the hall, a line of officers following.

  The room remained silent, except for the occasional sniffle from Belinda in the corner, a handkerchief hovering over her red, wet face. Cadence stood hunched over the sideboard, distant from the rest of us, and I was about to call out to her when Desdemona gave a breathy sigh of awakening, drawing everyone’s attention. Minerva, sitting closest to her, leaned over the arm of the couch, fingers brushing against the younger woman’s ankle.

  Desdemona pushed herself upright, rubbing her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open, and she jumped at the sight of so many people focused on her. “What’s going on? Where am I?”

  “We took you downstairs to the sitting room, dear,” said Minerva, reaching out for the woman as if she might topple over at any moment. “The EO officers have just arrived.”

  “EO officers?”

  “Yes, dear. Do you remember…?” She hesitated. My stomach lurched as I watched Minerva blink tears out of her eyes.

  The simple reminder of something happening was all it took to jog Desdemona’s memory. She was on her feet in a flurry of arms and legs, shrieking, pulling at her hair as she rushed to the door. “Felix! Felix! Oh my god, I have to–!”

  “No, Desdemona!” Solomon bolted from against the wall, using his whole body to block her from the exit. “You can’t!”

  Desdemona struggled, arms stretching out over his shoulders. “I have to go to him! He needs me! He needs me!”

  “He doesn’t need much of anything anymore…” Victoria receded further into the corner of the couch.

  “Thank you, Vicky,” said Henry from behind her, snarling as he paced from one end of the room to the other. “As sensitive as ever.”

  “Sensitive? Sensitive!” Victoria shot up onto her knees and leaned over the couch, her yellow hair hanging down in sticky tangles around her face. “I was sleeping next to the whole awful thing!”

  “I thought your room was–”

  “It is,” she slammed her fist against the couch back, realizing her mistake almost as soon as it was out of her mouth. “I was speaking…metaphorically!”

  “I think,” Solomon started, having succeeded in calming Desdemona by letting her sob into his night shirt, “that everyone should try to remain calm and–”

  Victoria spun around, stepping off the couch and unleashing her venom on him without a thought. “Remain calm? When there’s been a murder in the house? A bloody, awful murder! Any one of us might be next! I don’t–”

  The sharp crack of skin against skin roused me from my daze. Victoria stood in front of me, mouth agape, clutching her cheek with both hands. Inches from her was Minerva, face bright red and her body tensed. “Damn it, get a hold of yourself, you stupid girl!”

  Minerva turned on her heel, swallowing a few times and pushing her hair out of her eyes. “Solomon is right. The EO is here. They’ll be with us soon. We just need to keep our heads and wait.” She sat back down on the couch, pausing to look at each of us. “Preferably quietly!”

  Screwing my eyes shut, I slid a hand over my forehead, skin cool and clammy. I choked down another bout of nausea, taking in a shallow breath.

  Someone squeezed my knee. I was about to knock their hand away when it loosened, fingertips trilling an arrhythmic beat against my thigh.

  “Chance?”

  I gave a start and opened my eyes, as desperate for the sight of her face as a shipwrecked man is for the sight of rescue. Cadence crouched in front of me, one knee pressed into the carpet, the other acting as a temporary ledge for a large glass of whiskey. Her dark blue eyes stared into mine with no concern or pity that I could find. There was just the slightest wrinkling of her forehead and a set to her jaw which conveyed a freely offered affection that washed over me like sea water over a wound, cooling and stinging all at the same time.

  Cadence lifted the glass and shook it at me, ice tinkling against the sides. “You should drink this; it might help.”
<
br />   I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her beautiful face as I fumbled for the glass, gulping the bitter liquid down like a child takes medicine. The corner of her lips flashed up into a hollow smile, which vanished as she rose to look out the window at the EO PTs flying up the drive. I lunged for her hand and held it tight, the smallest ripple of warmth spreading over me when she squeezed it back, covering my hand with hers without even a startled glance in my direction.

  For once it seemed that the sensation of eyes on her beat through Cadence’s thick skin and she turned to face the rest of the household, brows raised at the stares fixed upon her.

  “Would anyone else like anything?”

  The sudden clamor of voices was a shock after the long silence. “Bloody Mary–” “Scotch on the rocks, please!” “Bourbon, straight, blessed bourbon–” “–with tonic water!”

  Cadence nodded, pressing my hand once more before slipping away. I kept my glazed eyes on her as she stood at the sideboard and mixed each drink with care, measuring out more alcohol for some than others.

  The final glass was for Belinda, who hadn’t moved from her place by the window. She grasped Cadence’s hands when she gave her the drink, pushing them against the crystal. “Bless you for staying so calm, Cadence.”

  “Glad to see you’re making yourselves comfortable.” Brisbois stood in the doorway, watching. His usual cool smile missing from his face, his hair a rumpled mess, he stepped into the room, a plastic-wrapped package in his hand.

  “From what we can tell,” he began with a sigh, loosening his tie, “Mr. Hale was killed sometime late last evening; beaten to death with a blunt object, namely–” He held up the package, blood and another, thicker substance coating what was inside it, “–this book.”

  Desdemona screamed, covering her mouth with both hands, eyes watering. Solomon threw a hand in the air, the other patting the hysterical young lady’s back. “Inspector, really!”

  Brisbois dropped the book to his side, ignoring the chastisement. “I’d appreciate it if you all confine your movements to this room or the lawn. I have an Evidence Team on site, and they may be here for several hours, given the size of the house.

  “During that time, I’m going to need to ask you all a few questions. I’ll be starting with the staff, so it might be quite a while before I talk to any of you. Before I go,” silent as he surveyed the room, his eyes rested on each of us in turn, “is there anything anyone would like to say to me now?”

  “Who could have done this?”

  Brisbois stared at me, as surprised to hear me speak as I was to do so. He rocked back on his heels, jaw tightening. “You may regret asking that, Mr. Hale.”

  He turned on his heel and marched into the hall, leaving us in a stunned silence. Minerva let out a huff, hand at her collarbone. “Well,” she blew some loose wisps of hair out of her face, “what in the world did he mean by that?”

  I looked up at Cadence, staring over Belinda’s shoulder to the patio outside, her pink lips firmed into a grim line. She had understood the inspector’s nauseating insinuation as well as I: if someone from inside the house had stolen the necklace, someone from inside the house had killed my father; one of us was a murderer. Did I really want to find out who?

  10

  Chapter 10

  Solomon cinched his robe around his waist and stroked the stubble on his chin. He shook his head once and then again, spinning around and walking for the windows, throwing them open.

  “I need some air.”

  A general murmur of agreement rose, and several people trickled out onto the veranda after him until only Henry, Desdemona, Dr. Merton, and I were left inside.

  I watched as Dr. Merton, preoccupied with his sobbing patient, stroked Desdemona’s hair and shoulders, murmuring platitudes in a vain attempt to calm the wounded creature. Surprised at the tenderness displayed by the stand-offish doctor, I had to concede that Desdemona could capture more hearts than just my father’s.

  The thought sent a jolt of guilt through me, every angry word we’d spoken the last time we were alone together cruel and pointless. I slumped in my chair, massaging my temple.

  “Chance?”

  I opened my eyes. Henry stood in front of me, hands hanging limp at his sides. He licked his lips, eyes flickering to and away from my face like a hummingbird. “I…I am so sorry, Chance. Are you alright?” Henry winced, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Damn it, I know you’re not, but I don’t know what else to say. Is there anything I can do for you, anything you need?”

  His concern, touching and most wanted, brought me back to myself. Straightening, I shook my head, trying to pretend the water in my eyes wasn’t tears, that I was exhausted, nothing more. I opened my mouth to speak but couldn’t trust my voice to hold back the emptiness in my heart.

  Henry gripped my shoulder. “It’s alright.” A tremor in his voice told me that he too was on the edge of tears. “It’s going to be alright.”

  I turned away, taking in a shaky breath and staring outside. Mustering the last ounces of my composure, I spied Cadence, lingering by the gazebo. Bundled up in one of my robes, something she had no doubt rummaged from my closet in the heat of the moment, her skin looked like marble in the glow of the morning sun, hair falling onto her bare neck in curled strands that I could see even from this distance. The sight of her alone made me feel safe and protected from the cruel realities of life that were pressing in around me.

  “I think…” I chewed on the inside of my cheek, toying with my bottom lip. “I think some air might do me good after all.”

  Henry followed my line of sight. A weak smile crept onto his face. He patted my shoulder once more before gesturing back into the sitting room. “If you need me, I’ll be here.”

  I stood up as fast as I dared, legs wobbling under me, and shuffled out the veranda doors. The sun had risen, but the sky was clear and stepping outside was like stepping into a bath of ice water. The cold felt good against my flushed skin, and I quickened my pace. My need for Cadence was now deep and instinctual rather than a passing desire, and I felt foolish for abandoning my pursuit of her. I had no intention of letting my impatience get the better of me anymore. To be in her presence would be more than enough for now.

  To my right, someone hissed. I jumped, eyes fluttering open to find Victoria walking beside me, her long negligee tripping her slippered feet as she tried to keep up with me.

  “Chance!” My name squeezed its way out from between her clenched teeth. “I need to talk to you.”

  I shook my head, desperate for a nix and wishing I hadn’t left my case in my suit jacket upstairs. “Terribly inconvenient moment just now, ducky.”

  Victoria grabbed my arm, digging her nails into the sensitive flesh just above my wrist. I came to an abrupt halt with a yelp, jerking away.

  “Victoria!” Rubbing at the crescent marks on my skin, I glared into her unapologetic visage. “What the hell was that for?”

  Victoria’s gaze bounced around the yard. Gnawing her bottom lip, she stepped closer to me, whispering out of one side of her mouth. “I don’t think either of us should mention anything about last night to that pig of an Inspector.”

  “Why on earth not?”

  She scanned the back garden again, as if anyone would care about our sexual intrigues now. “I have my reputation to think of,” she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, shivering in her less than appropriate outdoor attire. “And it’s bad enough being involved in something like a…a…”

  “A murder?” I spat the word at her and she flinched. I gritted my teeth, fists clenching at my side. “Well, I am so sorry that my father’s violent death might adversely affect your social standing, Vicky; we have to tell him!”

  Victoria threw her hands into the air, snarling. “Why does he need to know?”

  Her obduracy cut through what little patience I had left like a hot poker through flesh. I grabbed her shoulders and jerked her to me. “Because we’re each other’s alibis, damn it!”<
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  Her mouth hung open as she stared at me like I was some creature from the abyss, daring to lay a hand on her in anger. She scoffed, shaking herself free of my grip. “Oh, are we?”

  I lunged towards her, arms outstretched. “What the hell–”

  “I am a very sound sleeper, Chance.” Victoria retreated another few steps, resting one hand on her clavicle as she locked eyes with me. “After my head hits the pillow, why,” her eyelashes fluttered, cartwheeling her free hand through the air, “I don’t know if I can vouch for what did or did not go on.”

  My arms fell to my sides, and I bit down hard on the inside of my mouth. “I could say the same, you know.”

  Victoria’s smile was the glint of a knife in the dark. “Do I really look like the kind of person who could beat a man to death? The inspector would never believe you.”

  “I guess you’re lucky he doesn’t know you like I do.” I forced my muscles to relax, and I turned, shaking my head. “You win. I won’t say anything.”

  The bottom of her negligee rustled against the grass as she stepped towards me and held my shoulders. “Thank you.” She laid her face against my back, breathing out a sigh. “I am sorry, you know. I rather liked your father.”

  I slid out from her grip without a word, more determined than ever to reach Cadence. During Victoria’s negotiations, she had disappeared behind the gazebo. I rounded the small white structure with long strides, pushing hanging honeysuckle out of the way. Cadence was propped against the back wall, her hips pressed against the gazebo floor.

  “Cay.” I sighed her name, feeling more relieved than I had a right to.

  Cadence jumped out of her skin at the sound of my voice, jerking up from her reclined position and turning away, covering her face with her hands.

  It wasn’t the reaction I had been hoping for. My brow furrowed. “Cadence?”

  Her shoulders shook and though I heard her muttering under her breath, the words were unintelligible. As I edged closer, I realized that she had abandoned the lingua franca in her distress, a series of rough clicks and trills emanating from her that was not Common Tongue.