His stare went to the body, then back to me. “I'm so sorry. Yes, of course, you can wait outside.”
“Thank you.” I spared one last glance at Eva and hurried away, as eager to leave the hospital as Ilya had been with the library.
I hadn't been close with Timofey, but I had known Eva. More importantly, I had liked her, even considered her to be a friend. She was the only one out of the three victims who I had deeply mourned. A person should never have to see their friends like that. I fled past the medical staff—I still couldn't tell you what they were doing—and out into the hallway where I instantly bent over, braced my hands on my thighs, and tried my best to not throw up.
Eva's hair had been braided by a loving hand, and I knew exactly whose hand that was.
“Damn it,” I whispered. “I should have gone to see her. She lost her daughter, and I didn't bother to check on her after the funeral. Oh, Eva, I'm so sorry that I've failed you.”
Chapter Twelve
Konstantin found nothing on the bodies. Nothing new at least. No clues to the killer. None of them had traces of poison or even alcohol in them, and all three had their throats slit before a small blade had been inserted multiple times into their hearts, rendering the tissue beyond repair. No other evidence remained, not even dirt beneath their fingernails, but that was because the Master Physician had been thorough and collected all of that during the autopsies. He offered the evidence to Konstantin but the Garin's device came to the same conclusion that our lab had—there were no traces of skin cells. In other words, none of the victims had managed to fight back.
After leaving the hospital, Konstantin took me back to his quarters and poured me a large drink. He didn't ask, but I told him about my friendship with Eva. Then he did something that utterly shocked me; he hugged me. Just a hug, a gift of comfort without grasping hands or hardening flesh. I hugged him back, then determinedly set my glass down and insisted that we get back to work. The best way to honor my friendship with Eva was to find her killer.
We spent the rest of the day conducting interviews. I would sit beside the Larch as Konstantin questioned them, offering my silent and sometimes vocal reassurance. Thankfully, no one else's testimony required a trip. The Garin was starting with people connected to the first murder—from the maids who had cleaned the library to Lord Timofey's closest friends—but we only made it as far as the maids.
The maids confirmed that Lord Timofey's body had been found near the birth records. They had also been ordered to lie to the rest of the court about the body's initial location. Although that order had been given by King Nikolay himself, the last maid we interviewed had something interesting to add.
“I was the first to arrive,” Anna said. “The investigators were still with the body. I passed by the King and the Master Librarian on my way to the . . .”
“The crime scene,” I offered.
“Yes,” she said with a grateful look my way. “On my way there I overheard them talking. The Master Librarian was asking the King to move Lord Timofey.”
Konstantin perked up. “It was Master Andrei's idea to move the body?”
“Yes, my lord. I remember it clearly. I was so nervous to be cleaning up after a body that I was, you know, looking around a lot.”
“Yes, you were on your guard,” Kon said. “What did Master Andrei say to the King? Can you remember the exact words?”
“Yes, my lord. Master Andrei said, 'Sire, the murder will draw attention to the archives. We can't have people back here with the books. Please, have him moved.'”
“We can't have people back here with the books,” Konstantin murmured.
“Yes, that's what he said.”
“And what did the King say?”
“I don't know, my lord. I was only passing. I didn't want to linger and look as if I were eavesdropping.”
“Yes, of course. Is there anything else you remember, Anna?”
“No, Garin. And I wasn't summoned for the other . . . clean-ups.”
“Thank you for your testimony.” Konstantin helped Anna to her feet and escorted her to the door.
“You don't think the King will be mad at me for telling you, do you?” she asked.
“No, the King wants to find the murderer as much as I do.”
“Oh. Yes, he probably does,” she spoke absently, glancing back at me.
“Thank you, Anna,” I called to her. “Have a good night.”
“You too, Lord Mikhail.” She bobbed a curtsy at both of us in the doorway, then hurried away.
Konstantin closed the door and rejoined me before the fireplace, his expression smug as he settled back into his armchair.
