“Hey, where’s my kiss?” Morrie protested.
“And mine,” growled Heathcliff.
“No kisses for me, thank you.” Lydia waved her hand. “I’m not so awfully keen on this feminism you speak of.”
“I’m still in the dark here,” Morrie said. “Why is Quoth a genius? I’m the genius.”
“Quoth figured out who the murderer is. You can’t see it because you’re still learning what it means to love,” I said. “Heathcliff understands.”
“Damn right,” Heathcliff growled.
Morrie’s crestfallen face made my chest flutter, especially when I remembered the words he’d blurted out to me only a few hours ago.He’s trying. “Think about it. Who is so besotted with Christina that he plays along perfectly with this farce of Regency manners? Who is in the professor’s confidence and likely knew what pills he took? Who’s an expert swordsperson who would have no trouble landing a killer blow?”
“Who declares his love through terrible poetry?” Quoth added.
“I think you’re onto something, little birdie,” Morrie breathed. “Remember Hathaway’s documentary?”
Morrie slid across his laptop and brought up the documentary video about Hathaway’s life that had been shown at the memorial, freezing it on a scene where David helped Christina out of a car. Her hand gripped his as he helped her to adjust her parasol. She thanked him with her usual breathless air, and his entire face lit up with the rapture of love. He adored her.Too bad she’s gay…
Oh no…
With Alice out of the way, not only would Christina be saved from humiliation if the article were published, but she’d be a single woman again.
Morrie skipped ahead to a scene where David was talking to the camera about his role as Hathaway’s assistant. “I do everything for him. I arrange his schedule, collate his files, conduct research, answer his phone, look after him at appearances, make his tea. I even manage his medicines.”
Lydia gasped, raising her hand to her face, as if she was about to faint. “I can’t believe it. The killer is David Winter.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Of course,” Morrie breathed. “It makes perfect sense. David is in love with Christina and intimately acquainted with her father. He would do anything to save Christina from humiliation. That waif of a girl could barely deal with a chipped nail, let alone finding out her parents were in an incestuous marriage. David probably hopes that by getting rid of Alice, Christina will be free to marry him and they’ll be the perfect Regency couple. That’s why he couldn’t just kill Alice, he had to make sure her credibility was shot so the story of Hathaway and his sister could never come out.”
“Is he’s still in the building?” Heathcliff rose to his feet, reaching for his sword.
“We saw him speaking with Professor Carmichael during our walk,” Lydia said, her eyes wide. “What is going on? You’re not going to hurt David, are you? He collects coins, for pity’s sake. He’s no danger to anybody.”
“How can you say that?” I said. “You saw David in the fencing demonstration the other day. He wasbrutal. Just because someone has good manners and boring hobbies doesn’t mean they’re not capable of cruelty, in the same way that people who might look a bit different or act gruff or indifferent can’t be kind and loving.” I said the last bit with a glance between Heathcliff and Morrie.
“Where’s my sword?” Morrie hunted under the sheets.
“And mine?” Heathcliff peered behind the curtains.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t go into this expecting things to get stabby,” Quoth said tentatively. “We should speak to the police.”
“There’s no time!” I cried. “They’re tied up with my stupid bomb threat and if we’re right, David’s still got one more murder to commit. There’s only one person left who has information that could hurt Christina.” I leaped to my feet. “He’s going to kill Professor Carmichael.”
* * *
The police had gathered the majority of the guests and staff into the landing and entrance hall. On the bottom floor, Hayes addressed them in an authoritative tone, telling everyone to remain calm. Cynthia swayed, a second (or third) bottle of wine clutched in her hand. Quoth – who had returned to his raven form - propelled himself off my shoulder and rose up to perch on the chandelier. He glanced around the room, and returned a moment later.
Carmichael’s not here, and nor is David or Christina. We should try her bedroom.
Professor Carmichael’s suite was down the opposite hall. I pushed my way into the crowd, deliberately stomping on every toe and kicking every shin I came into contact with. “Excuse me,” I murmured. “Pardon me. Terribly sorry.” With tuts and dirty looks, the crowd parted like the red sea before me, closing up around Heathcliff and Morrie.
“Mina, wait!” Heathcliff called.
“Heathcliff, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” I glanced over my shoulder in time to see Hannah throw herself at him with such force, she sent him sailing backward into Morrie, knocking all three of them to the ground.
No time to stop.Quoth dug his talons into my shoulder. I marched down the hall to Professor Carmichael’s suite. Her door was shut, and I couldn’t hear anything inside above the din in the hall. I turned the handle, and the door slid open.
