“Komal,” Dora says softly. “You can’t use these emails against Durant.”
Komal freezes mid-twerk. “Oh, I’m using them. That corrupt wanker is gunning for the mayor’s job, where he will make my life miserable. I’veearnedthis.”
Mina shakes her head. “We all want to see Durant toppled from his throne, but if you go to the press with this, you’ll expose all of Sanctus Estate as vampires.”
“No, I won’t. Maisie can write the story. She’ll keep all the vampire stuff out of it.”
“I can’t do that.” Maisie hugs James Pond to her chest. “That’s not the actions of an ethical journalist. This story would get into the wider media, and they’d demand my sources. I’d have to give up these files with all the private information about vampires, or say I don’t have a source. Not only would it throw theArgleton Gazetteinto disrepute, but I’d never work again.”
“Why are you pretending to be an ethical journalist now?” Komal shouts. “Remember when you wrote that exposé about the supposed witch’s curse on that lovely old cottage so Dora could buy it at below market value?”
“That curse is real,” Maisie cries. “Once, I was having tea at Dora’s house when the shelf over the sink came crashing down without either of us touching it. What’s that if not a curse?”
“Mike’s shoddy handyman skills?” Beth asks, one eyebrow raised.
“Remember when you implied people got listeriosis from drinking your ex Mark’s cider, and he had to close down the family mill and move away?” Isis adds.
“That was performing a public service! I’ve sometimes abused my journalistic powers, and every time I’ve said I’ll never do it again.” Maisie clutches James Pond to her chest. “But if I break this story, every human journalist in the country will be looking at Sanctus. Oneof them will uncover something. There’s too much at risk, especially with the killer still at large. Don’t forget that Arabella lives there.”
Maybe not, once Gideon discovers what I’ve done.
“I’ll make sure that no one finds out…” Komal’s face falls. “Oh no, you’re right. It would expose everyone.” She flops onto the sofa. “It’s not faaaair.”
“You know,” Beth says. “Arabella’s friend Alyra was my first client yesterday evening for her weekly at-home facial scrub and beauty elixir infusion. She said she saw Durant outside the Sanctus gates. He was very angry, yelling all sorts of insults and foul things at the gates, as if someone was listening to him. Perhaps it’s related?”
Interesting. I noticed a few missed calls from Alyra last night, but with everything going on, I didn’t think it was urgent. Maybe she overheard Durant say something that she couldn’t repeat in front of a human. I locate Alyra’s name in my phone and hitcall. It connects on the third ring.
“Alyra, I’m sorry I missed you last night. I wondered if you could tell me what you know about Augustin Durant—”
“Arabella.” Gideon’s voice forces my heart into my throat.
He sounds scratchy, wary. I guess I can’t blame him.
I should have done this all differently.
“Gideon?” I force myself to remain calm. All around me, members of the Nevermore Coven turn towards me, faces rapt with interest. “Why do you have Alyra’s phone?”
“Because I’m standing over Alyra’s body in the Midnight Garden. She’s been husked, and the killer has written MINE, ARABELLA on the path in her blood.”
44
Gideon
Arabella:I know you’re dealing with Alyra’s death right now, but I think we should talk about last night.
“THE THING IS,” JO SAYS.“I’ve never done a vampire autopsy before. I don’t know what’s normal.”
Jo Southcombe is a friend of Mina’s. After much convincing, she’s agreed to act as Sanctus Estate’s resident vampire criminal investigator – a new role that I’ve created this evening after our first Sanctus Estate homicide. Usually, I would call an Upyr representative from Alyra’s court, but I need to keep Conclave loyalists far away from Sanctus. Jo’s the best in the business, and she also won’t tell the human police about the dead body I’m keeping in the basement of Sanctus House.
“So you can’t help us?”
“I didn’t say that.” Jo rolls up her sleeves. “It’s every medical examiner’s dream to be called out of their Lesbian Film Club in the early hours of Sunday morning to perform a vampire autopsy. Just consider yourselves lucky I keep my portable autopsy kit on me at all times.”
“Oh.” I brighten. “Thatisconvenient.”
“I’m kidding, you idiot. I’m going to have to improvise. I don’t suppose you have a bone saw handy?”
“Drat our luck. I left my bone saw in my other trousers.”
