Four Days After the Murder
THE NEXT MORNING, Lillie, Earnest, and Grace hired a boat and rowed along the canals. Steepled buildings rose around them in a dreamlike, temporary city. Their gondola rocked as Grace unwrapped a croissant and spread it with fresh strawberry preserves. She drank a thermos of hot coffee and Earnest held an umbrella over their heads to shade the morning sun. The crowds streamed by on flower-lined paths beneath the Palaces.
Lillie was wearing an intricately embroidered pink dress that cinched at the waist and a matching hat with crisp white gloves. Grace had washed her blouse in the sink, hoping that no one would notice that it was still slightly damp.
“My parents are visiting Oliver with his lawyer this morning,” Lillie said.
“I heard they hired Clive Marpels,” Earnest said. “He’s supposedly the best money can buy.”
“And yet I think we can help,” Lillie said, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief. “I’m planning to talk to people tonight at the ball. Inquire if they saw anything useful.”
“That sounds like an excellent plan,” Earnest said. “The three of us can cover a lot of ground if we divide and conquer.”
“Oh, I’m afraid I won’t be there,” Grace said. She smiled ruefully. “Even the Carter name won’t be enough to get me in this time.”
“Then I’ll take you,” Earnest said. “I’ll bring you both. I can get Grace into the ball.”
“Thank you,” Lillie said with genuine surprise.
Earnest smiled at Grace, but his eyes drifted to Lillie. And Grace understood that it was a kindness to her, but it was perhaps more a kindness for Lillie.
She looked away. She was happy for Lillie. And yet she tried not to wonder what it might feel like, just once, to be the one chosen.
Her eye caught on a familiar silhouette walking along the canal banks, almost shrouded beneath the flowering trees. It was Mr. and Mrs. Gatewood.
Grace stiffened a little, remembering the way they had been toward her that night at the Glass Ball.
The night that Harriet had died.
She blocked the sun with her hand.
“Lillie,” she said slowly. “What if we’ve been thinking about this wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
Grace swallowed. “I just had a thought. What if the murderer wasn’t someone who actually wanted to hurt Harriet, but wanted to hurtOliver?”
“But who would hurt Oliver?” Lillie asked, her brow creasing.
“Someone who was angry at your family,” Grace said. “And wanted to see them suffer.”
Earnest followed Grace’s gaze to the banks.
“The Gatewoods,” he said, grimacing. “They were there that night.”
Lillie shook her head. “No. Absolutely impossible.”
“Well. Perhaps notimpossible,” Earnest said.
“No. They were ourfriends. No one could be that cruel,” Lillie insisted.
But Grace took note of it, believing the thought warranted at least consideration. Perhaps she would pay another visit to Oliver and ask him what he thought.
The gondolier rowed them to the shore, bumping into the banks. She almost fell over, but a hand caught her just in time.
She looked up into the face of Theodore Parker.
“You seem to have a recurring issue with boats,” he said dryly. “Namely, balancing on them.”
