That fear was quickly dispelled when I pushed open the door. “What the hell kept you?” she demanded. “I could have been dying down here.”
In the darkness, she was leaning against the foot of the bed, her legs stuck out in front of her. “My right leg’s broken,” she said calmly.
I scanned the floor for the knife and kicked it, sending it sliding across the floorboards into the hall, out of reach. Then I carefully rolled up her jeans an inch or two and removed her tennis shoe. “You’ve got a bad sprain,” I told her, after feeling the swelling around her ankle. Earlier in the year, my doctor friend Anita had insisted I take a first aid course because, she said, I so often found myself in the midst of shootings, stabbings and drownings while investigating auras.
Lucy was skeptical of my diagnosis, however. “It’s broken,” she insisted. “What would you know?”
“It might be,” I said, although I knew it wasn’t. “So it’s best that you don’t move at all.” I took off my cardigan and folded it into a small pillow. “Rest your leg on this. Someone has called for an ambulance. And the police, of course.”
“The police? I don’t see why,” Lucy said. “I’m the only one who was injured, and I don’t intend to press charges.”
I stared at her in disbelief. She was either in a state of denial or she seriously underestimated Inspector McMahon. “I may as well tell you,” I said. “The police have been looking for you.”
“Why? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Apart from stabbing Fergus in the neck?”
I was certain now that Lucy had killed Duncan. I had seen how she’d held the knife over Fergus, fully intending to thrust it into his back.
“Don’t stand there looming over me, for God’s sake.” She patted the floor beside her. “Sit down.”
I hesitated, still in shock at the violence of her attack on Fergus. But I wanted to find out if she’d killed Duncan. I leaned against the door jamb, a comfortable distance away from her. I could sprint for the stairs if I needed to, but I doubted she could move far with that ankle injury.
“Did you set the police after me?” she demanded.
“You know I didn’t. But you’re a suspect for Duncan’s murder.”
“I didn’t kill Duncan.” Her voice caught. “All I wanted was the codex.”
“Well, you worked out where it is. That was quite an achievement.”
“It was, actually.”
How did you know it was in the desk?”
“It was a guess.”
I doubted that. There were scores of desks, cupboards and armoires, and thousands of nooks and crannies in the castle. The book could have been anywhere. I liked to believe I would eventually have pinpointed the roll-top desk, after Fergus had told me it was his grandfather’s favorite piece of furniture. But Lucy couldn’t have known that. So what made her identify a forgotten piece of furniture in a derelict, closed-off wing of the castle?
“A guess?”
“Well, not exactly. I found a note in the furniture register, a scrap of paper folded up between the pages.”
“When did you see the furniture inventory?” I asked, confused. “We only worked on that after you left.”
She leaned forward to rub her ankle. “I examined everything,” she said. “All the inventory registers, every shelf in the library, even behind the portraits in the gallery. I’m very thorough in my work.”
“What did the note say?”
“Not much. Just ‘EW salon’ and the word ‘folio’ with the initials GM. A message, maybe, to Gordon MacKenna’s successors, or a memory aid for himself, I’m not sure. It wouldn’t have meant much to most people. But that focused my search in the salon, and the desk was obviously a good hiding place. The problem was that I only found the note on Sunday morning, while everyone was running around looking for Duncan, so I had no time to investigate properly before the police arrived.”
“But you left the castle voluntarily that afternoon,” I reminded her. “Why didn’t you stay on, to give yourself more time to examine the desk?”
“I was worried about being arrested after Duncan’s death,” she replied after a long pause. “As you say, McMahon seemed to consider me a prime suspect. It’s always the spouse or the girlfriend, isn’t it, on the TV programmes? Such a cliché.”
And probably true in this case, I thought. But I’d leave that to the police to determine. For now, I was more interested in the story of the codex.
“We argued, but I didn’t murder him,” Lucy said again.
“What did you argue about?”
“He threatened to expose me, to tell Fergus what I was up to.”
“So? We all knew you were looking for something. I doubt Fergus would have been shocked to learn you were after the book.”
“No, but he would have been shocked to learn that Stanton Knox was paying me to find it for him.”
Ah yes, Knox. He’d had been out to screw Fergus all along.
“After that Romanov egg was discovered in Paris earlier this year, Stanton contacted me. We hadn’t spoken for a while but he had this whole theory about the egg and the codex being part of a collection of Romanov treasures. He said he’d pay me to research it and, if I found the codex, he’d give me a million pounds, and, even better, he’d let me take all the credit for the discovery.” Lucy shifted her leg. “God, that hurts.”
“It looks painful,” I said. “Keep talking. It’ll take your mind off it.”
“My academic career was going nowhere. There were rumors I might even be let go. Retrieving the book would change everything. In academia, I’d be a superstar. Ever since I was a child, I’ve dreamed of being famous.”
Or infamous, I thought. “Then you’ve achieved your goal. You certainly contributed to finding the codex. Its discovery will be one of the greatest scholarly feats of modern times.” In fact, I doubted she’d ever achieve any academic recognition. She’d committed a string of crimes, from breaking and entering to assault and, for all I knew, murder.
“Do you really think so? I’m afraid that my part will be overlooked, forgotten. I need to tell my side of the story.”
“I should think an interview with a well-placed journalist might be helpful.”
Lucy brightened. “Do you know anyone? Reputable, of course.”
I did have a journalist friend, a serious and conscientious reporter. He’d helped me with some background research the year before, and we stayed in touch, meeting occasionally at his local pub for a drink and a chat. “I have a contact who might be interested, but I’d have to know more about what happened and how you came to learn about the codex in the first place.”
Lucy twisted to look at me. “All right then. What else do you want to know?” She seemed genuinely eager to tell all, to brag maybe about how she’d completely misled me, and the others.
“When did Duncan figure out you and Stanton were collaborating? He didn’t know before the weekend?”
“No, he’d never heard of Stanton Knox until we arrived at the castle, but he saw Stanton come to my room on Friday afternoon. Duncan knew it couldn’t be anything romantic. I would never stoop so low as to take an American lover. He realized that Stanton and I must be plotting something. It didn’t take him long to connect the dots. He confronted us later that day, became rather ugly, in fact. That’s why Stanton left on Friday night, just to let things cool a bit. Duncan had worked himself up into a lather about it all and decided he needed to find the book before anyone else did.”
I contemplated that for a few seconds. I could imagine how outraged Duncan would have felt when he discovered Lucy and Knox’s cozy little scheme. But, with Duncan’s anger issues, I thought that might have made him a killer, not a victim.
“How did you meet Duncan in the first place? Was that luck?”
“No, I don’t believe in luck. I made it happen.” Lucy’s voice was stronger now, more confident. “After I found out that Gordon MacKenna had purchased the books, I dug into the f
amily records and realized that Duncan was a great-grandson and that he worked in London. I tracked him down and trailed him for a few weeks to learn more about him. I stage-managed a meeting in a bar close to his office, and we started dating.”
I guessed that it would take more than silky blonde hair and high cheekbones to attract and keep someone like Duncan. There were plenty of young women trying to land a wealthy City banker. Lucy must have played a very convincing role, probably sucking up to him and stroking his ego. She certainly was a master manipulator as well as an accomplished liar.
“I was optimistic at first. Duncan kept making plans to visit his uncle. But then at the last minute, he’d cancel because of work. This was the first time we’d been able to come and, by then, Stanton had taken another tack. He’d decided to buy the estate, which would give him all the time he needed to locate the book. That would leave me out of the picture, so the weekend of Fergus’s birthday party was it. My only chance to find the codex and get the money.”
She shifted her leg and winced.
“Why Knox?” I was confused. “Stanton has all the money in the world. Why did he want the codex so much?”
“For the same reason a French king or a Russian Tsarina wanted it. It’s unique, the masterpiece of an extraordinary intellect, with an incredible history. Stanton is an avid collector, from houses to art and musical instruments.” She gave a dry laugh. “He imagines himself to be a connoisseur of fine things and he certainly measures his own worth by the value of his possessions.”
“Did he intend to cancel the sale if you did find the codex? He was never really interested in the estate?”
“Oh, he intends to continue with the purchase,” Lucy said without hesitation. “To him, honestly, the cost is insignificant. I think he genuinely fell in love with the place— or he just thinks it’s cool to have a Scottish estate. The problem is mine. Without the codex, I have nothing. But you can help me get something back— recognition. You have to promise to contact your journalist friend for me.”
“I will,” I said. “But tell me about the Russian books you found. It was you, wasn’t it? Not Duncan.”
“You know about those books? Of course you do. It took me a while to locate them because it seemed you were always watching me. At first, I was bitterly disappointed not to find the codex with them. I’d been so sure it was part of the consignment from Anna Vyrubova. But then I realized the presence of the Russian books was actually good news. They gave me renewed hope that the codex was indeed somewhere in the castle. I moved them so Duncan wouldn’t find them— or you wouldn’t, for that matter. Without them, he wouldn’t have the certainty I had that the codex was here.”
“How much did Duncan know?”
“He wasn’t stupid. After we started dating, he realized quickly that I was looking for something valuable— especially after I flew to Helsinki. I wanted to see if there were any traces there of Anna Vyrubova, but she died in the 1960s, and it was a dead end. Duncan kept after me, always demanding information, until finally I decided to give him a few hints about the codex. By that time, I was desperate to gain entry to the castle, and only he could arrange it. It was a gamble, but it paid off. Rather than dump me, Duncan suggested we cooperate. He had some sizeable debts, and half a million pounds would have come in handy. But, once we arrived here, I did my own thing. I’m not exactly the collaborative type. And of course, Duncan said all that stuff about taking over the estate but he never intended to do it. He was just trying to buy some more time to keep looking for the book.”
“What about Remy Delacroix? You offered him a three-way split?”
“Remy?” She scoffed. “He’s such a loser. He certainly muddled things here, though, just by turning up. He threatened me too, but I convinced him we’d share the proceeds once we found the codex.”
Lucy leaned forward and examined her ankle, which was continuing to swell. “Kate, you seem to have Inspector McMahon’s respect. Has he told you who he thinks killed Duncan?”
Tired of standing, I slid down the door jamb to the floor, where I shifted around to get comfortable while I thought about what to tell Lucy. If I gave too much away, she could use that to her advantage and I didn’t want to mess up McMahon’s investigation.
“The inspector keeps his cards close to his chest,” I said finally. “I don’t know what he’s thinking. But he’s smart, Lucy. If you were involved in Duncan’s death in any way, he’ll work it out.”
I heard footsteps and voices overhead. A light shone down into the bedroom.
“Are you all right down there?” It was Josh. “The ambulance is here. They’re checking on Fergus and then they’ll come down to help Lucy. The police will be here any minute, as well.”
Damn. I really wanted to hear the end of the story before the authorities took her away.
“McMahon won’t find any proof,” Lucy said. Her voice wavered and she held the palm of her hand over her eyes. Was she crying? She sat up suddenly and tried to stand. That didn’t go well. With a yelp of pain, she sank back to the floor.
“Did you kill Duncan?” I asked when she’d stopped fidgeting.
“I told you already. I didn’t murder him.” She twisted her upper body to look at me. “I need your help, Kate. McMahon will listen to you. Fergus will too.”
I took a deep breath. Lucy had lied to me all along. She’d put on a great act of being sweet and shy and scared of Duncan’s temper. And I’d fallen for it. “I’ll do what I can,” I said. “But only if I understand what really happened and what was going on with you and Duncan? Starting with the night of Fergus’s party.”
She nodded. “I thought that Duncan and I had patched things up after he’d seen me with Stanton on Friday. On Saturday morning, we enjoyed riding our horses together— until you found Nick’s body, at least.” How did she manage to make that sound as though I’d done something wrong? “But by the evening,” Lucy continued, “Duncan was back to being mad with me. I tried. I went to his room to ask him to help me zip up my gown before the party, but he was too distracted to pay me any attention. Kept pacing around and complaining that we’d run out of time. We were due to fly back to London on Sunday afternoon. I was equally frustrated. Our attempt to find the codex seemed doomed to fail.” She fell silent.
“He got rather drunk at the party,” I prompted. “What happened afterwards?”
“We went back to my room. He was, as you say, plastered, and I assumed he’d just pass out on the bed, but he began ranting about Stanton Knox and how he was out to screw Fergus and seize the estate. The way he described it, you’d think Stanton was trying to storm the bloody castle, not pay good money for it. Anyway, Duncan got more and more worked up. His anger actually seemed to sober him a bit. He said he planned to go to Fergus first thing in the morning to tell him what Stanton was really up to, and reveal my part in it. Then he said maybe he’d go tell Fergus right then.” Lucy sighed. “I kept him talking for as long as I could, hoping he’d change his mind about waking his uncle in the middle of the night. At about one forty-five, he left my room to go to bed, he said. But I heard him leave again soon afterwards.”
Remembering that night, when I had listened to footsteps in the corridor, I wondered if things would be different if I’d investigated more thoroughly, instead of retreating back to bed. Maybe Duncan would still be alive.
“I couldn’t trust him not to go to Fergus,” Lucy said. “So I followed him. He went down to the kitchen, which was dark and empty. Everyone had left. He unlocked the back door and looked outside, but he didn’t go out.”
I knew that Fiona had given up by then. She’d left at one-thirty, she said.
“As he turned around,” Lucy continued, “I hid on the kitchen stairs so he wouldn’t see me. He grabbed a torch from a drawer and headed towards the butler’s pantry and then a scullery I didn’t even know existed. I followed as he went through a door to a narrow hallway. It leads here, to the east wing.”
“I know,” I said.
She ignored me. “He must have realized I was following him, because he turned around and shone the torch in my eyes. We argued. He told me he’d been planning to meet that young woman, Fiona, but she’d gone, which was all my fault for keeping him so long. He frog-marched me back to the kitchen and pointed at the stairs. He said I should leave the castle immediately and go home, that he was going to wake his uncle and tell him that I’d deceived him and planned to steal the codex. If I stayed in the castle, they’d have me arrested.
“Naturally, I went on the offensive. I threatened to tell Fergus about Duncan’s debts and all his shady deals. I said that Fergus would certainly disinherit him and leave his estate to Josh. That made Duncan furious. He shoved me against the wall so hard it scared me. He’d kill me, he said, if I breathed a word. There was a block of knives on the counter, and he pulled one out. One word, he said, and he’d slit my throat.”
Lucy was obviously adept at lying, but I believed her in this instance. Duncan certainly seemed to me to have anger management issues.
“I was terrified,” Lucy went on. “I grabbed another knife from the block. He laughed at me. Said I didn’t have the nerve to kill him. He headed towards the stairway, intent on waking Fergus. I raised the knife and yelled at him to stop, but he carried on walking, and I ran after him. When he reached the first step, I stabbed at him. I was aiming for his arm, but he moved. I never intended to kill him, only to stop him. I had to protect myself.” She paused. “It’s clear I acted in self-defense, isn’t it?”
“You can certainly make your case,” I said, although I doubted a jury would see a stab in the back as self-defense.
“I dragged his body to the meat locker and dumped it in there.” Lucy’s voice fell. Perhaps she was capable of feeling remorse after all. “I never imagined there’d be so much blood,” she continued. “It was everywhere.”
The Complete Kate Benedict Cozy British Mysteries Page 114