Chapter Nineteen #2
Roux shot us significant looks as he slowly opened the door. Bene winced, glancing at the empty takeout containers and paperwork littering the place. He backed toward the dining table, blocking Gordon’s view of the worst.
“Good morning?” Gordon huffed. “Good bloody morn—” He spotted me, then caught himself. “Oh hello, sweetheart.”
I hugged him, stepping sideways to make him turn toward the wall. “I’m so glad to see you. Such terrible news.”
The truth of the second half of my statement helped cover the lie of the first, and my position gave Bene a few seconds to clear the table. God, I was getting as devious as the rest of them.
“Terrible, indeed.” Gordon glared at the guys like they were to blame.
They gazed back with poker faces capable of winning millions in Vegas.
“Good to see you, sir,” Roux said smoothly. “Glad you could make the trip so quickly.”
Surprised was more like it.
It was close to ten a.m. When had Gordon learned about the murder, and how had he gotten to London so quickly?
Private jet answered the transportation part, but what about the rest?
“We were just discussing… Well…” Roux hesitated, looking at me.
Everyone’s eyes followed, as if I were a child who hadn’t yet figured out there was no tooth fairy.
“Discussing what to tell the police if they question what business we had with Raisa,” I said flatly, looking right at Gordon. Unlike Mallorca, there was no need for secrecy about my involvement here.
He tugged at his collar. “I’m sorry to have involved you.”
Was he, though? And how many times had he secretly involved me in much worse?
“We were also discussing how to proceed with the other buyers,” Roux added.
Gordon motioned everyone to the table, then gestured to Bene. “Fetch Celeste, will you?”
I’d spent the subway ride considering possible murder suspects. Now I added one more. Celeste.
Then my imagination served up another suspect, and I stared at Gordon, my heart hammering.
Marius’s dark eyes flashed, telling me he was thinking the same thing.
“Ah, Gordon. Thank goodness you’re here,” Celeste announced upon entering.
And wow, what a transformation. Around us, she was coy and cunning. Around Gordon, she was usually calm and efficient. Now, she played up weak and helpless.
I rolled my eyes. Obviously, she’d missed her calling in Hollywood.
“All right, everyone. Gather around,” Gordon ordered, moving to the head of the table.
Bene’s eyes went wide, and he lunged forward.
“Oh, Gordon?” I called sharply.
His head whipped to me while Bene snatched the pizza box Gordon had been about to sit on.
“Yes?” he asked sharply.
“Um… Would you like a coffee?” I answered a little meekly.
His brow furrowed, but he nodded. “Yes, please. Thank you, sweetheart.”
I turned away to make the coffee, cursing myself. How had I never noticed the special treatment Gordon bestowed on me? He barked at the men, while I always got a soft, indulging sweetheart.
No wonder Celeste hated me. And, oh. An even uglier thought hit me. No wonder I’d never questioned what Gordon did for a living. My sweet, generous godfather would never get involved in anything murky, would he?
But the truth was, everything about him reached Loch-Ness-level murkiness. How could I have been so blind?
Still, I was in this now and just as invested as anyone.
My mind went over the situation. What if the police arrived to question us about the highly unusual, valuable, and secretive art deal we’d been attempting to broker?
Neither Anastasia nor the buyers would wish to be named, and she certainly wouldn’t want her painting to make the evening news. On the other hand…
Perfect opportunity to get The Tower of Blue Horses out in the public eye, the devious part of my mind noted.
I squirmed in my seat. Did I dare? Should I?
An uncomfortable hour passed, most of it taken up by Gordon blustering and thinking out loud. He hardly let anyone get in a word edgewise, and no one risked drawing his ire.
We’d barely settled on what version of the truth to share — and which details to omit — when another knock sounded on the door. Gordon frowned at Bene, who jerked a thumb at Roux, whose eyes flashed with a look that asked, Why is it always my fault?
I went to the door before they broke into another one of their fights. Then I peeped out and took a deep breath.
“Police,” I whispered.
Gordon straightened his tie and motioned for me to admit them.
“Metropolitan Police, ma’am,” the head officer announced as three others fanned out around the room. “We have a few questions.”
Gordon greeted them calmly. “Gentlemen, good morning. What can we do for you?”
“Just a few questions, please,” the constable said.
A major understatement, because as it turned out, he had lots of questions. Questions that grew more pointed with every passing minute.
“According to Ms. Kepke’s diary, she had an appointment here yesterday. What was the nature of your business with her?”
Gordon did most of the answering, sticking largely to the truth, while the rest of us looked on solemnly. Celeste clutched at a handkerchief, apparently shattered by the news.
I pictured Meryl Streep opening an envelope. And the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress goes to…
“Celeste,” Gordon barked.
She jerked her head up.
“Forward copies of my correspondence with Ms. Kepke to the constable,” he finished.
Celeste took the officer’s card and scurried out of the room.
They questioned Gordon, then each of us. We all stuck to the truth with certain omissions, as agreed. The last any of us had seen of Raisa was when she’d left the hotel the previous morning.
“And you, sir?” one of the officers asked Marius.
He looked up sharply. “Like they said — I last saw her when she left here yesterday morning.”
The policemen looked at one another. “What about later?”
Marius’s eyes went hard, and he repeated himself in a clipped, angry tone. “I last saw her when she left here yesterday morning.”
“And where were you at approximately two a.m. this morning?” they demanded.
Gordon huffed. “What is the meaning of this? He said—”
“A man of his build was seen leaving Ms. Kepke’s hotel in the early hours of the morning,” the officer butted in.
That build was dragon, and boy, was he pissed.
Me too. Not every man in London had Marius’s broad chest and shoulders, but it was a big city. There had to be dozens of other men of that general description.
Gordon shook his head. “That may be, but my associates all spent the night here.”
My gut started to sink. Doubly so when the policeman shook his head. “Neither the night shift nor security cameras show Mr. Aecher returning after leaving through the rear entrance before noon.”
I winced. So, a camera had caught us leaving. Or, wait. Judging by the constable’s insistent glare, a camera had only caught Marius leaving. Which was possible, if his body had happened to shield mine from view.
My gut sank another few inches.
Marius carefully kept his eyes away from mine. “I didn’t spend the night here last night.”
Gordon nearly gave himself whiplash looking over. Henrik gritted his teeth.
“Where were you?”
“I took a room in Belgravia.”
“Which they’ll be sure to corroborate, along with your whereabouts at two a.m.?” the officer asked.
Roux shifted from foot to foot, looking at Marius, who remained stony.
“The room wasn’t reserved in my name, and there was a lockbox,” he said. “So, no. But there were probably cameras on the street.”
He gave them the address, but they pressed on.
“So, no alibi?”
Marius whispered into my mind. Do not say anything. I repeat, do not say anything.
“I have not seen Ms. Kepke since yesterday morning,” he growled.
The head constable looked at one of his men.
A window opened in my mind, allowing me to read his thoughts clearly.
Raisa Kepke was an associate of a prominent member of Parliament, I learned, who didn’t want their dealings to go public.
The constable’s superiors wanted this case solved quickly and with minimal media attention.
They needed a closed case fast, and Marius was as good a suspect as any.
The constable was already calculating where to position his men in case Marius resisted arrest and how many more squad cars to call in for backup.
“Backup?” I yelped.
The officer stared at me, and I coughed into my hand. “Let’s back up, shall we? You haven’t questioned me.”
Gordon frowned. Roux’s eyes went wide, and even Henrik made a cutting gesture.
Don’t! Marius yelled into my mind.
“You don’t match the suspect’s description, miss,” the officer reasoned.
Thank goodness, but yeesh. Talk about female privilege. Marius was being grilled, while I was assumed harmless. Which I absolutely was, but still. It was the principle of the thing.
“I had nothing to do with Raisa Kepke’s murder, but neither did he.”
“And you know that because…?”
Not a word! Marius barked into my mind.
Celeste looked on with interest. The others, in panic.
My confession could get Marius off the hook with the law, but Gordon would be furious.
An offense by one of the men would be held against all four of them, which they couldn’t afford, especially now that they were nearing the end of their contracts.
In a few weeks, they would all be free of their ridiculous arrangement with Gordon.
I took a deep breath, then spoke.
“Because he was with me.”
Marius closed his eyes. Everyone went very, very still.
“At two in the morning?” the constable asked, and yikes. Never had five words been so loaded.
Heat flooded my cheeks as I nodded. Not because I was ashamed, but because the officer on the right looked from me to Marius and back, graphically picturing us in the act. I could tell because the special power that had slipped out of my subconscious was still turned on.
Magic was a bitch sometimes.
The officer stroked his chin. “I see.”
Gordon’s face turned red with fury. “Now, wait just a moment—”
“We left for the night,” I cut in. “I booked us a room in Belgravia. Marius was with me all night.”
Celeste looked half jealous, half triumphant, because trouble for me was her catnip.
“He could have slipped out,” another officer pointed out.
I glared at him. “You seem very determined to place suspicion on the basis of a very general description of a man’s build.
Even when that man has an alibi.” I paused, collecting myself before I started yelling.
“And no, he did not slip out at two in the morning. I woke to hear a church bell chime at that time. And Marius was with me.”
The first police officer glanced at the other. One thought I was covering for Marius, but the other two believed me.
This woman couldn’t lie to save her life, one was thinking rather critically.
Celeste, I could tell, was siding with the first guy. A glance inside her twisted mind revealed her warring with herself. The more trouble for me or Marius, the better, but that risked irking Gordon, which wouldn’t serve her ends.
What those ends were, I couldn’t see. But the endless machinations of her mind chilled me.
Still, she kept her mouth shut, and the ranking officer lowered his little notebook with a ponderous, “I see.”
They questioned us for another few minutes. Then, with stern warnings that they would be in touch, they departed, leaving the room as quiet as a graveyard at midnight.
Gordon glared at Marius, then shot me a look I’d never, ever seen before. One that said, I’m deeply, deeply disappointed.
It hurt. It actually hurt, though it shouldn’t have, because he was the one with something to hide, not me.
Then he looked at Celeste, silently communicating, which spooked me. But exactly when it might have been most useful, my ability to read minds faded away. Great.
I added it to my list of magic to buckle down and learn as soon as I mastered shadow-walking.
Gordon nodded to Celeste, then checked his watch and grunted at the men.
“We’ll reconvene here in thirty minutes.
No one leaves.” He pinned Marius with a look that said, Especially you, you bastard.
Then he turned to me and spoke in a scarily measured tone.
“And you, Wilhelmina. I’d like a word. In the other suite. Immediately.”