“I didn’t ask, and he didn’t say.”
“He’s not up here in Queensland, though?”
“I doubt it. He has no business interests here in Australia.”
He did have a bride here, though, and he wouldn’t be the first hubby-to-be to run a surreptitious check on his bride’s movements while she was away at a hens party. Although, given theirs was not a love match, would he really have cared one way or the other what she did, as long as she didn’t bring press attention to either of their families?
Then I blinked as his words impacted. “He’s not from Australia?”
“No. Paris. Good family and excellent connections. Monica was looking forward to going over there and exploring the city.”
Considering she’d disappeared, maybe she wasn’t as excited as he seemed to think. “Aside from her three bridesmaids, do you know if she has any other close friends?”
“She’s been talking a bit to a distant cousin of late, but that’s about it.”
“The distant cousin’s name?”
“Luke Marlowe. He’s an archivist at the National Witch Library.”
If he was working there, then he wasn’t from one of the stronger Australian Marlowe lines. “Have you talked to him?”
“Why would I? She knows better than to mention family business to someone likehim.”
The emphasis placed on that one word had the urge to grab his wrist and suck the sheer fucking arrogance out of him rising. I silently drew in a deeper breath that did little to calm the inner roiling, and said, “Have you got Marlowe’s contact details?”
“No—just contact the library and they’ll be able to put you through to him. He works the usual business hours.”
The sound of hurried footsteps approaching the apartment saved me the effort of replying, which was a good thing, given the only words playing about my lips were unpleasant ones.
“Ms. Kang?” Viceroy said. “I’m here with the ambulance people.”
“Bring them in. We’re in the main living area.”
They appeared a few seconds later. I rose as the two medics approached, giving them room to tend to Ashworth, and walked around the sofa to stand beside the manager. He was looking a little less anxious now that he’d seen Ashworth was awake and, at least on a surface level, unharmed.
“Mr. Viceroy,” I asked, “you mentioned earlier that there were security cameras in the corridor—is that true?”
“Twenty-four-hour security is one of the building’s selling points,” he replied with obvious pride.
“Then would you be able to provide me with a copy of the footage covering the half hour before my arrival?”
He nodded. “I can go do that now, if you want.”
“That would be great—thank you so much.”
He nodded. “My office is in the basement, east end, if you happen to finish here before I’ve copied over the recording.”
It had to be in a damn basement, didn’t it?I rubbed my arms and said, “Directions?”
He gave them to me, then headed out. I leaned a hip against the side of the leather sofa and watched the ambulance officers do their thing. While Tane bore their examinations with obvious impatience, his gaze kept slipping to me, and I couldn’t help but notice that the odd evasiveness—or was it more remoteness?—was back in his eyes.
The medics eventually finished their examinations and found nothing of concern, but still suggested he go to the hospital for a more thorough check, given the possibility he might be concussed after his fall. Unsurprisingly, Tane refused.
He waited while they packed up and left, then said, “I have something for you, young woman.”
His voice, like his gaze, held an odd distance, and his speech seemed... rote? Like he was reading from a script. Somewhat warily, I said, “And what might that be?”
“This.” He drew a micro-USB from his pocket and held it out.
