“What did you find out about the first murder? Is this the same killer?”
“It’s hard to tell at this stage,” Jo said. “Different murder weapons were used, but the attacks are equal in brutality. Plus, the handwriting on Alice appears to match the person who wrote on your door. If what you told Hayes is true and Alice knew the identity of the killer, then it suggests they did this to cover their tracks. What I can say for a fact is that the professor’s murder wasn’t opportunistic. It was premeditated. We found a large number of sleeping pills in his system.”
“Sleeping pills?”
“Yes. Apparently, he’d been taking them for years, along with a litany of other pills for various health issues. Under that dyed hair and expensive dental work, Hathawaywasrather old. But this was far higher than any prescribed dose. Not high enough to kill him, but they’d have made him drowsy, slowed his reaction time way down, made it so that he stayed in that chair all night. They may also have allowed the killer to take the weapon from him.”
“I heard someone say that to make that thrust directly into his heart was difficult to do.”
“Correct,” Jane said. “This type of sword was very thin. If it had hit bone, the blade would deflect or get stuck. The killer was either exceptionally skilled with a blade or had an excellent knowledge of anatomy to know where to lay that blow.”
“What about the stolen jewels and the fabric on the windowsill? Do the police still suspect the Argleton Jewel Thief?”
“Yes, now, that’s interesting.” Jo leaned in close, lowering her voice. “I shouldn't be telling you any of this, mind, but I’m interested in your take on it. We recovered a scrap of fabric from one of the Argleton Jewel Thief’s previous burglaries. It got snagged in the clasp of an antique jewelry box. No DNA – so it was a clean shirt the thief wore that wasn’t in contact with his skin. However, the fabric doesn’t match that on the windowsill – our jewel thief likes cheap cotton shirts, whereas Hathaway’s killer used an expensive silk blend. By itself that might not mean much, but when taken with the other evidence…”
“It suggests the scene was staged.” I told Jo what Morrie and I had noticed about the window opening the wrong way.
Her eyes widened. “You’re right. I can’t believe you figured that out. I’m impressed.”
“It was mostly Morrie,” I said quickly.
“Nonsense. You’re quite good at thinking like a detective, Mina. If you ever have enough of the book business, you should consider a career in law enforcement.” She grinned. “Or crime.”
“No thanks. I’ve had enough dead bodies to last my lifetime.”
I said goodbye to Jo and returned to the huddled group of people the police had already questioned. Lydia – much recovered from her earlier fainting spell – held court, recounting a tale of such dramatic woe you would thinkshewas the one who discovered the body.
Quoth had flown off to see if he might be able to overhear the police divulging other clues. Morrie, Heathcliff, and I stood around shivering until the police finally allowed us to return to our rooms to pack our things. This time there was no question about it – the Jane Austen Experience was over, and all guests would vacate Baddesley Hall immediately, although Inspector Hayes required them all to remain in the area in case they were needed for further questioning.
As soon as I turned the door in the lock and entered the room, Morrie grabbed Quoth and held him up so they were beak-to-face. “Don’t keep us in suspense. What did you find?”
“Croak.” Quoth lifted a wing, dropping a small, silver flash drive onto the bed. Morrie snapped it up, his eyes dancing.
While Morrie pulled over his own laptop and started typing furiously, Quoth began his shift, his wings retracting in on themselves to form skinny arms that filled out, his muscles inflating like balloons as his body twisted in on itself. His chest filled out, and his legs bent forward and elongated.
Lydia’s eyes widened as she stared at the gorgeous naked man who sat on the edge of the bed, where before there had been a scraggly-looking black bird. “No matter how many times I see him do that, it is still remarkable.”
“Yeah, yeah, he knows.” Morrie waved a hand. “Spill the beans, bird. Describe the room. What else did you see?”
“You were right about the phone,” Quoth said. “I couldn’t find it anywhere. Alice must have had it on her. Her room was a real mess, clothing everywhere – her whole suitcase was filled with thermal underwear.”
I smiled at that. “I believe it. She seemed like a really sensible woman.”
“On her desk was a laptop. It was password protected, so I couldn’t get into it. I found that flash drive in the side, so I pulled it out and brought it to you. There were some documents torn up in the rubbish. I pulled a few out and managed to read a bit. The first was a newspaper clipping from Oxford, about the scandal that cost Hathaway his fellowship. The second one was about a hearing at another school – a plagiarism case between Hathaway and Gerald. Then there was the student magazine who printed the winner of an essay competition – the piece was about the unwanted sexual advances of her graduate advisor. Finally, there were lots of forms and documents with graphs on them. I didn’t understand all of them, but they looked like medical records.”
“Medical records?” I hadn’t expected that.
“Yeah. One was an in-patient record for a woman named Hera Hathaway, who I’m guessing from the dates was Hathaway’s late wife. Then there were all these other files, but I didn’t understand what I was looking at—”
“This?” Morrie turned the computer around, demonstrating a line of wiggly graphs.
“Yeah, that looks like it.”
“These are DNA tests. Alice had them in her files, but weirdly, they don’t seem to be included in Hera Hathaway’s official records.” Morrie spun the screen around again. “Did you find anything else?”
“Yes,” Quoth said. “I saw Alice’s notebook. I only looked at a few pages before the police came and I had to get out of there, but it makes for chilling reading. It seems that Professor Carmichael has been sitting on a secret for a very long time, and after Hathaway humiliated her last year, she’s decided that now’s the time to come forward. Julius Hathaway’s wife was also his sister.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
