CHAPTER 4
SIGNED OFF
“You certified this room yesterday.”
Daniel Reeve kept one finger beside Romy’s signature as if pressure might turn ink into guilt.
Romy looked at the page.
Then at him.
“Yes.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
Ellis Harwood spoke before Romy could.
“Mr. Reeve, step away from the table.”
Daniel turned.
“I’m trying to establish what was signed.”
“So am I.”
“This is my project.”
“Tonight it is my scene.”
That stopped him.
For a moment, the old estate office felt too small for all of them. Daniel with his folder. Ellis beside the table. Leo holding his camera as though somebody might try to take it. Romy with the taste of bad tea still in her mouth and Sebastian Pryce dead one floor above them.
Daniel withdrew his hand.
Ellis looked at Romy.
“What exactly did you certify yesterday?”
“The conservation work.”
“Be specific.”
Romy rotated the completion sheet toward herself.
“Original plaster protected. Chimney breast surface stable. Historic joinery checked after designer installation. Transfer opening retained. No irreversible fixings into original fabric. Decorative panel mounted on a reversible spacer system.”
“Mechanical systems?”
“No.”
“Heating?”
“No.”
“Fireplace operation?”
“No. Pattern House does not certify building services.”
Daniel said, “The form says room complete.”
“The conservation section says complete.”
“You signed the room off.”
“I signed my work off.”
“That distinction is going to look very convenient.”
Romy stared at him.
“Convenient would have been not photographing the room again tonight.”
Daniel stopped.
Ellis held out his hand.
“Phone.”
Romy gave it to him.
He opened the 6:31 image she had already shown him and enlarged the edge of Celeste’s silk panel.
The dark line was narrow but clear.
Six millimetres of separation between the mounting and the wall.
Enough for airflow.
Enough to prove the room had not been left in the condition found after Sebastian’s death.
Ellis looked at Daniel.
“When was this photograph taken?”
“Six thirty-one,” Romy said.
Daniel’s eyes flicked toward her.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Celeste asked me to alter the spacer.”
Daniel went still.
“What?”
“To close the panel tighter to the wall.”
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“You were downstairs arguing with somebody about sponsor signage.”
“I should have been told.”
“It was resolved.”
“How?”
“I refused.”
Ellis said, “Who witnessed that?”
“Leo. Celeste. Imogen.”
Leo nodded.
“Celeste wanted the side gap reduced because she said Sebastian would see the shadow line.”
Daniel looked at him.
“And Romy refused?”
“Yes.”
“Completely?”
“Yes.”
Romy pointed at the photograph.
“That is the result.”
Ellis placed her phone beside the completion sheet.
Yesterday’s formal signoff.
Tonight’s photograph.
Two moments. Two types of evidence.
Romy wanted to believe that distinction would matter immediately.
Experience told her it would not.
Ellis closed the folder.
“I’m separating witnesses now.”
Daniel frowned.
“Why?”
“Because all of you have been discussing this together.”
“We’re standing in the same room.”
“Not anymore.”
He looked at Romy.
“You first.”
The interview took place in what had once been Asterleigh’s morning parlour and had lately become the press office.
Somebody had removed the champagne.
Nobody had removed the floral arrangement.
Romy sat opposite Ellis while an officer set a recorder between them.
The flowers smelled aggressively cheerful.
Romy resented them.
Ellis began with the obvious things.
Her name.
Her role.
Pattern House’s contract.
When she had arrived.
Who had been with her.
What she had inspected.
What she had changed.
What she had refused to change.
He did not rush.
That was worse than rapid questions.
It gave every answer room to become permanent.
“At six thirty-one,” he said, “you took two photographs of the Blue Study?”
“Yes.”
“Why two?”
“One frontal. One oblique.”
“To show the spacer?”
“To show the final decorative condition and the spacer.”
“Was that routine?”
“For disputed details, yes.”
“Was this disputed?”
“Celeste disliked it.”
“Enough to ask you to change it.”
“Yes.”
“What did she ask for?”
“The panel moved closer to the wall.”
“How much closer?”
“Flush, effectively.”
“And what did you say?”
“No.”
Ellis looked at her.
“Just no?”
“There was more discussion.”
“I’m sure there was.”
Romy ignored that.
“I explained that the high-level transfer grille needed an airflow path. The panel could conceal it visually, but it could not block it.”
“Was she angry?”
“Annoyed.”
“Difference?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Angry people stop listening. Celeste kept negotiating.”
Ellis wrote something.
“Three millimetres?”
Romy stared at him.
He almost smiled.
“Leo mentioned the bargaining.”
“Three, four, five. I refused all of them.”
“And then?”
“She accepted six.”
“Did you see anyone alter it afterward?”
“No.”
“Did you go back into the room after six thirty-one?”
Romy thought.
“Not fully.”
“Explain.”
“I stood at or near the doorway several times. Sebastian entered around six fifty-seven. I did not go inside after the final photographs.”
“Did you see the panel after six thirty-one?”
“Yes.”
“Closely?”
“No.”
“So you could not confirm the gap was still present at seven ten?”
“No.”
“Seven twenty?”
“No.”
“Seven thirty?”
“No.”
The pattern irritated her.
She understood why he was doing it. She still disliked hearing how wide the unknown period had become.
“Who could access the room?” Ellis asked.
“Anyone through the main door while it was open.”
“And the service side?”
“Staff, contractors, project team, anyone with a master key.”
“Adrian?”
“Yes.”
“Marcus?”
“He could enter the corridor. I don’t know whether he had a key.”
“Celeste?”
“Yes.”
“Imogen?”
“Possibly through Celeste.”
“Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“Sebastian?”
“He entered through the main door.”
Ellis tapped his pen once.
“At six fifty-two, Marcus is photographed carrying the brass plate-warmer and folded felt toward the service corridor.”
“Yes.”
“Did you see him come back?”
“No.”
“At seven oh-five he was in the courtyard.”
“Yes.”
“So he had approximately thirteen minutes.”
Romy said nothing.
Ellis looked up.
“You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
“Refusing to say what you’re thinking because you think saying it will bias me.”
“It might.”
“It won’t.”
“Marcus had time to enter the corridor. That does not prove he entered the room.”
“Correct.”
“The plate-warmer and felt may be irrelevant.”
“Correct.”
“He had a public speech from seven oh-five.”
“Also correct.”
She leaned back.
“You’re agreeing with me too much.”
“It worries me as well.”
The officer beside the recorder looked down.
Romy suspected she was hiding amusement.
Ellis returned to the timeline.
“Sebastian entered around six fifty-seven. Did anyone leave the room after that?”
“Not that I saw.”
“Did you see Celeste near it?”
“Later.”
“Adrian?”
“Not after his earlier access.”
“Marcus?”
“Not until the courtyard speech.”
“Vivian Cross?”
“Not near the room.”
“Daniel?”
“I don’t remember.”
“When did you last see the door open before the photographer found Sebastian?”
Romy thought carefully.
“Sebastian opened it to go in.”
“After that?”
“I saw it closed.”
“When?”
“Before seven.”
“And still closed at seven twenty-three?”
“Yes.”
“Anyone say it had been locked?”
“No.”
Ellis sat back.
“Now Adrian.”
Romy frowned.
“What about him?”
“You saw him use the service door at six forty-eight.”
“Yes.”
“And he denied it.”
“Yes.”
“Twice?”
“Effectively.”
“Why didn’t you tell me immediately?”
“I did tell you before Sebastian was found.”
“You told me he denied being there.”
“I didn’t know it mattered.”
“I’m not criticizing you.”
“You sound like you are.”
“I sound like a detective.”
“You always say that as though it excuses the personality defect.”
This time the officer did smile.
Ellis looked at Romy for a long second.
During the Marchmont case, that look would have meant confrontation.
Tonight it felt different.
Not softer.
More familiar.
Romy disliked how quickly she noticed.
He closed his notebook.
“I need your original photographs transferred before you leave.”
“You’ll have them.”
“And your completion records.”
“Yes.”
“Everything related to the Blue Study.”
“Yes.”
“Emails too.”
“Relevant ones.”
“All relevant ones.”
“That was what I said.”
He stood.
“Wait outside.”
Romy paused at the door.
“Ellis.”
He looked at her.
“You know the difference between certification and later alteration.”
“Yes.”
“Will everyone else?”
His face answered before he did.
“Not tonight.”
Leo’s interview lasted twenty-six minutes.
Romy knew because she watched the clock.
Celeste’s lasted forty-three.
Adrian’s lasted eleven before the door opened hard enough to make a volunteer look up from the registration desk.
Adrian came out angry.
Ellis followed.
“You lied about entering the service corridor.”
“I corrected myself.”
“After two witnesses placed you there.”
“I was busy.”
“You said you were checking the rear exit.”
“I confused the time.”
“You also told Romy she had not seen you.”
Adrian looked toward her.
Romy was sitting with Leo on a bench near the entrance hall.
His expression hardened.
“This is ridiculous.”
Ellis said, “Then explain six forty-eight.”
Adrian rubbed a hand over his face.
“The Blue Study service door closer was sticking.”
“What does that mean?”
“It wasn’t catching cleanly.”
“Who reported it?”
“I noticed it.”
“When?”
“Earlier.”
“And you chose the middle of preview arrivals to repair it?”
“It took thirty seconds.”
“With a master key.”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“Opened the door. Checked the arm. Adjusted the tension screw. Closed it.”
“Did you enter the room?”
“No.”
“The corridor?”
“Yes.”
“Did you touch the decorative panel?”
“No.”
“The transfer grille?”
“No.”
“The fireplace?”
“No.”
“Did you see anyone else?”
“No.”
“Marcus Fenn entered that corridor four minutes later.”
“I didn’t see him.”
“Sebastian entered the room nine minutes later.”
“I know that now.”
Ellis folded his arms.
“Why lie?”
Adrian’s face darkened.
“Because everybody was already losing their minds, and I knew what it would look like.”
“What would it look like?”
“Like I had access.”
“You did have access.”