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by Robin Jeffrey

  Regaining her pout, Cadence dropped her feet to the floor as if they were made of lead. “Your way involves me duping well-meaning hospital staff. Your way, to use a common colloquialism, stinks.”

  My retort was interrupted by the return of the nurse, who led us back into the coma wing. Letting us into Minerva’s room with some whispers about not touching any of the equipment or telling anyone about this, she patted Cadence’s shoulder once more before disappearing back down the hall, the door sliding shut behind her.

  I peered out the window in the door before turning back to Cadence. “It might stink, but it works, doesn’t it?”

  Ignoring me, Cadence leaned over Minerva, examining her body with cool scientific detachment while squeezing the unconscious woman’s hand. Breathing into an oxygen mask, Minerva was a sickening sight: all pale, with tubes and wires sticking out of her arms and neck. Someone had delivered a bouquet of wilting yellow roses beside her bed; someone just as well-meaning had found an ugly yellow vase to put them in.

  “What do you see?”

  Cadence poured over Minerva for a few more minutes before giving her hand a final pat and sitting down in the chair beside her. “Based on the bruise on her head, I’d say her attacker tried to render her unconscious before strangling her. So, any thoughts about DNA under her fingernails are moot.” She looked up, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I see nothing here that would contradict the Inspector’s findings.”

  “How is that possible? Solomon Davers didn’t try to kill his wife and he didn’t kill my father.” Striding over to the bed, I willed myself to scrutinize Minerva’s crumpled form.

  “What is that?”

  “What is what?” Cadence sounded tired, like she had that day on the train, but she leaned forward anyway, looking at the area of purplish skin on Minerva’s neck I indicated, where there appeared to be a void in the bruise.

  Cadence drooped back into her chair. “It’s an impression on the skin. Whoever strangled her was wearing a ring; something like a wedding ring, which Solomon Davers wears, so–”

  “Cadence, humor me; really look at this. Does that look like a wedding ring?” She picked herself up from the chair and shuffled over to my side of the bed. I pressed the edge of the impression with my finger. “Can’t you see that?”

  With infinitesimal slowness, Cadence’s brows curved up over her eyes. “Yes.” She followed the path I traced. “Yes, I see it. What is that?”

  “Some kind of pattern. Something…” I grabbed a pen and pad of paper off the bedside table. Closing my eyes, I let the pen move in the same pattern my finger had over Minerva’s skin, “something…like this.”

  I opened my eyes. In front of me was a repeating chain of two hazy shapes, super-imposed over each other. The larger one, a diamond, held inside it a simple spiral, descending inwards on itself until termination.

  I put a hand to my mouth. “Why do I feel like I’ve seen this before?”

  Behind me, Cadence leaned in. Her eyes were wide and dark, and I knew she saw something there I didn’t. “We need to get back to the manor. Now.”

  “What?” She was already moving for the door, heedless to my question, leaving me with little choice but to follow her. “Why?”

  “I don’t have time to explain.” Flinging the door open, her stride turned into a jog. “This isn’t over, not yet. We need to move quickly before there’s another body to find.” She looked back at me as we ran through the automatic double doors, the bright summer sun hitting her face, intensifying the glow of her smile. “I know who the murderer is.”

  Our PT shot out of the hospital bay like a rocket. I turned my eyes away from the glaring light of the setting Arrhidaean sun and watched the endless fields of orange grasses sway in the PT’s wake like breaking ocean waves. In the seat next to me, Cadence sat upright, every muscle taut, her eyes scanning the landscape while she tapped her fingers against her lips.

  I didn’t bother asking her who the murderer was. She wouldn’t have told me, but more than that, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I wasn’t ready to know. But ignorance would not be an option for long, so I enjoyed it while it lasted.

  I wanted to pull Cadence close and bury my face in her hair, to breathe her in and forget everything that had happened since we met. But I didn’t. Clearing my throat, I slid my hands into my trouser pockets, searching for my nix case, when my fingers brushed against the docu-chip I had found the night before.

  I took it out with a murmur, drawing Cadence’s attention. “I completely forgot. This fell out of a book I was reading last night; The Wind and the Willows.” I passed it to her. “I thought it might be the will; maybe Dad stashed it there for some reason.”

  Examining the fingertip-sized disc, Cadence’s lips twisted into a humorless smile. “Well, it may turn out to be nothing now. But I suppose it’s still worth a read.”

  With complete disregard for my delicate mental state, she opened her mouth and slid the docu-chip against her upper palate. A soft click, which had to be the chip connecting with whatever drive she had installed there, and she removed her fingers from her mouth. Sitting back and tapping her hands on her thighs, she waited for the chip to load.

  Her fingers stilled as her eyes moved back and forth, reading the document off her internal memory. Shoulders tensing, she blinked, taking a deep breath before starting again. She sat forward in her seat, hands seized around her knees, breath stilled as her eyes flickered at a phenomenal pace.

  “Cadence?” I touched the back of her hand. Even hotter than usual, for a split-second I thought I felt her skin humming. “Cay? Cadence!” My shout jolted her back to the present and she swiveled around to look at me. “What is it, what does it say?”

  She blinked a few more times before resuming her breathing, reaching into her mouth and removing the chip. Running her tongue along her lips, she wiped the corners of her mouth with her sleeve. “How far are we from the manor?”

  “Probably thirty minutes or so.”

  “Can we go any faster?”

  I began chewing the inside of my mouth. “He can only go as fast as the speed regulations allow, Cay; this isn’t a flicker.”

  “I think Desdemona may be in danger. Real danger.” Massaging her shoulder with one hand, Cadence shook her head. “I hope we can get back in time.”

  “In time for what?”

  “To stop her murder.”

  21

  Chapter 21

  After her morbid pronouncement, Cadence and I spent the drive in tense silence. My gaze was drawn again and again to the clock that sat high in the divider between the driver and ourselves, while Cadence’s focus remained on the setting sun. Was she being theatrical? How great could the danger be? Another murder seemed unthinkable. My questions were answered when we pulled up in front of the manor. Cadence opened the door to the PT before we’d stopped, her foot brushing over the gravel until she hurled herself out. Following her as quick as I could, I tossed some credit chips in through the PT window as I ran after her.

  Cadence burst through the front door, shouldering the plank of wood away and almost off its hinges, and taking the main stairs two at a time. “Desdemona! Desdemona!”

  Solomon rushed out of the library, a pad tucked under his arm. “What’s going on?”

  Cadence turned back at the top of the stairs as I pounced on him. “Solomon, where’s Desdemona?”

  He stepped back, face creased with worry. “She went out to the gazebo a little while ago – why, what’s wrong?”

  Cadence bounded down the stairs, making such a racket that Victoria stuck her head out from her bedroom, scowling. Taking the corner at the bottom of the stairs at speed, Cadence hung on to the banister, swinging herself around the corner and heading down the hall.

  Leaving Solomon gaping in my wake, I rounded the corner after her and, unable to catch sight of her, kept moving into the dining room. The doors to the veranda hung open, the breeze of a coming storm making them creak. The smell of soft
grasses and rain was in the air, weighing heavy on me as I ran outside.

  Reaching the sea of bushes that surrounded the gazebo on either side, I slowed, sweeping the dim terrain for any sign of Cadence or Desdemona. I jogged farther up the path and, before I knew what had happened, I was pulled down into the undergrowth. Filled with adrenaline, I struggled against my unseen attacker and was about to cry out when Cadence’s voice slithered into my ear.

  “Quiet!”

  I ceased fighting and tried to catch my breath. Cadence released me, and after a moment, I made out her form in the dying light, crouching behind a piece of topiary and staring at the darkened structure in front of us.

  “Cadence, what–”

  Silencing me again with a sharp ‘shush,’ she motioned for me to stay where I was. Low and silent, she crept through the bushes towards the gazebo. I waited, every muscle screaming in impatience.

  From the gazebo, there was a loud crash. Then, another. And then, worst of all, a high-pitched scream. Cadence’s voice rang out like a siren, violent and desperate:

  “Chance, stop her!”

  A person rushed towards me out of the black. I tackled them to the ground without a second thought. A hand scratched at my eyes, a knee planted itself in my liver, but I held on until I had subdued them. Pulling back, I peered at the body beneath me, squinting as I tried to make out a face. A shaft of light cut across us and the stranger became family in an instant.

  “Aunt Be?”

  “What the hell is going on?” Solomon hurried towards us with Henry, Victoria, and Dr. Merton close behind, the flashlight in his hand jittering over the dark ground. He swung the beam of light up to the gazebo, catching the staggering figures of Cadence and Desdemona.

  Cadence eased Desdemona down the stairs, one arm slung around her waist, the other holding the banister. Limping, Desdemona clutched her throat, where deep red marks were already visible. “She–” Desdemona struggled through a coughing fit, drawing in oxygen in a gasp, “–tried to strangle me!”

  Belinda struggled against me, writhing in the grass. “Ridiculous!”

  Sitting back, I let her get up, staring at her, slack jawed. Brushing herself off, Belinda threw a hand out at the injured woman. “You can’t believe her, Chance! She’s a thief and a junkie; your father told me so.” She glared at the younger woman, grinning. “He was never going to marry her.”

  Desdemona wrested out of Cadence’s grip and hobbled forward, shouting as loud as she could. “Yes, he was! He was! Felix knew everything and he didn’t care; he loved me!”

  “You stupid little bitch!” Belinda rushed at her, hands outstretched. I scrambled to my feet to restrain her while Cadence did the same with Desdemona. “He loved me! He always loved me! We were going to be together!” I shoved her back and she stumbled away, dark hair a tangle, eyes wild. “You were just in the way, just like Verity!”

  Her words struck me like fists. “What?” I pulled her to me, my fingers digging into her arms. “Belinda, what are you talking about?”

  She pushed me away with a scoff, rolling her eyes. “Oh, Chance! Why do you think your father married your mother in the first place? You think he loved her?” Sarcasm dripped off her words like poison. “You weren’t old enough to know it, but your father and mother hated each other. It was the money he wanted, not her. And then she didn’t even have the decency to give him that. He couldn’t let everything his family had worked for be ruined!”

  “You’re the beautiful serpent.”

  Belinda jumped, swinging around with her hands clenched. “What did you call me?”

  Cadence tightened her grip around Desdemona’s shoulders. “That’s what Felix used to call you. I’ve read the love letters.”

  “But–but–”

  “You missed one docu-chip when you destroyed the others.” Cadence shook her head and looked away. “You and Felix had been having an affair for years. Why deny it now?”

  “What?” Solomon stepped forward, the lines of his face exaggerated by the deepening shadows. “Belinda! How could you? You and Verity were friends – best friends!”

  Still staring at Cadence, Belinda ran her hands down her face, barking out a laugh. “Friends? She was the golden girl; she got everything I ever wanted. How could I be friends with someone like that?”

  When she turned back, it was if she saw me standing there for the first time. Her eyes widening, she stretched her hands out towards me. “I loved your father more than anything in the world, Chance. I always did, from that first moment we met in school. And when he asked me to help him with your mother; how could I say no? He…he promised he’d marry me; after…” She sucked in a shuddering breath, caressing my cheek. “I’ve tried to be a mother to you, Chance; I’ve tried to make it up to you.”

  I felt the ground shift under my feet and stumbled backwards, only to find that it was me and not the terrain that had grown unsteady. Looking into Belinda’s eyes, eyes I had known all my life, I asked the question I didn’t want answered. “Aunt Be…. are you saying that you…that you and Dad…killed my mother?”

  She turned away, hands covering her mouth, and nodded.

  The whole world went silent. Even my heartbeat stilled. Then, there was a peal of thunder, far away, but deafening.

  “I think we should go inside.” Keeping her gaze focused on the ground, Cadence stepped down from the gazebo, helping Desdemona. “Mr. Davers?”

  Solomon grabbed Belinda by the shoulders, his mouth a grim line. “I’ll call Inspector Brisbois.”

  Henry took Desdemona from Cadence with a nod and the rest of the group trailed inside without us. I fought against the urge to collapse onto the lawn. I didn’t think I would ever get back up again if I did.

  A soft rustle and Cadence was at my side, tugging my arm but avoiding my eyes. “Chance, come on. Come inside.”

  “Did you know about this?”

  Releasing me, she brought her hands close to her chest, compressing each finger in turn. Her words tripped out in strangled jerks. “I suspected it might be a possibility, yes.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?”

  “I tried. I tried, but–” Her head shot up and her brow wrinkled, gaze moving over my features as she lifted her shoulders, spinning her hands over each other. “I didn’t want to–to…upset you unduly.”

  I bit down on the inside of my mouth, closing my eyes. “You didn’t want to ruin the dramatic effect, you mean.”

  Cadence winced as if my words were a lash against her skin. “Chance, I’m sorry, I–”

  I sliced my hand through the air. My head ached and my stomach churned. “I have had enough of your literary fantasy, Cadence. This isn’t a book; this is my life. This is my family, damn it. You can’t just come here and…and…” I looked up into her eyes, glowing bright in the dark, and the fire left me. Turning away, I began the long walk back to the house alone. “You know what? Forget it. You couldn’t understand anyway.”

  22

  Chapter 22

  We shuffled into the sitting room to await the EO for what I hoped was the last time. Belinda sat by the door in a stiff-backed chair, Solomon keeping watch close by. Sinking into the couch on the other side of the piano, Victoria sat beside me, much to my chagrin, and began playing with my hair.

  Henry took up a comforting station behind me, but when Cadence entered, she gestured for him to come over and, without a moment’s hesitation, he did. She whispered something in his ear and his face went pale. After a moment, I heard his light tread hurrying up the stairs.

  The doorbell rang with a funereal tone. Straightening in our seats, we listened as the front door opened and a troop of EO officers bustled inside. A handful of them passed by the sitting room and we heard several more taking up stations in the entryway. At last, Inspector Brisbois made his grand entrance, sweeping into the room with his restraints in hand.

  “Miss Belinda Tanith, I am arresting your physical and mental person under Article 9.86 of the Enforcement Ac
t for the attempted murder of Miss Desdemona Eydis. Under this article–”

  “And the murder of Verity Hale.”

  Brisbois blinked several times, closing his mouth with a snap. He peered around Belinda to where Cadence had stretched herself over a chaise. “What?”

  “It’s quite true,” said Solomon, stepping forward. “She confessed.”

  “She did, Inspector, we all heard her.” Merton went to pat Desdemona’s shoulder, but seemed to think better of it, turning to face Brisbois instead. “Apparently, she and Felix killed Verity together.”

  Brisbois stared down at Belinda with a less than professional gape. She stood, rolling her shoulders back as she shrugged. “I was in love.”

  Her flippancy refocused him. Clicking open the restraints, he leaned down to slip them over her hands and wrists. “Miss Belinda Tanith, I am arresting your physical and mental person under Article 9.86 of the Enforcement Act for the attempted murder of Miss Desdemona Eydis and under Article 9.01 for the murder of Mrs. Verity Hale. Under these articles–”

  “And the attempted murder of Minerva Davers.” Cadence unwound a loose thread from the pillow she had wedged beneath her shoulders. “And the attempted murder of Felix Hale; that should be in there too.” Brisbois gave a strangled exclamation, drawing her attention at last. “What?”

  “Have you gone utterly mad?”

  “My neural map is uncorrupted, I assure you.” Cadence sat up to make room for Henry, who had returned from upstairs at last. “You said, Inspector, that the strength needed to strangle someone bare-handed pointed to a male assailant; but Belinda here is in impressive physical shape. I am also sure that you noticed the bruises on Minerva Davers’ neck, and the void therein.”

  “Yes, the attacker was wearing a ring. Which, of course, Solomon Davers wears.”

  “You see, but you do not observe, Inspector Brisbois.” I was sure Cadence intended to pause for dramatic effect, but she was forced to hurry on by Brisbois’ sullen glare. “I don’t blame you, I didn’t either at first, but Chance did.” She gestured to me, smiling.