CHAPTER 6 #2
“He hated Sebastian. He also wanted us to know he hated Sebastian.”
“Exactly.”
“So either he’s innocent enough to admit it or confident enough to perform honesty.”
“Good.”
Leo looked pleased.
“Do not become smug when praised.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were approaching.”
They found Vivian Cross in the old library with two solicitors and archive boxes. She sent the solicitors away before Romy could ask.
“No.”
Romy had not spoken.
“You want Sebastian’s unpublished work.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“His article on Celeste.”
“No.”
“His notes.”
“No.”
“His sources.”
“No.”
Leo said, “Efficient.”
“I’ve had practice.”
Romy closed the door.
“Sebastian told you at 7:03 that he had found the real story.”
Vivian’s expression did not move.
“The police told you?”
“Ellis gave me the wording.”
“That was generous of him.”
“Rare event.”
“What do you want?”
“Context. Was the real story Celeste?”
Vivian removed her glasses.
“Sebastian’s files contain confidential source material, legal advice, unpublished allegations, personal correspondence, and notes about people who may have done nothing wrong.”
“One of those people may have killed him.”
“And that is why the police have access.”
“Did Sebastian use unpublished material to pressure people?”
Vivian paused.
Finally she said, “Sebastian believed people became more truthful when they understood what publication might look like.”
Leo frowned. “That sounds like yes.”
“He would contact subjects before publication and tell them what he intended to report.”
“To verify facts?”
“In theory.”
“In practice?”
“Some people found it coercive.”
Romy thought of Sebastian’s questions about the panel. The accusation had already been forming before he entered Asterleigh.
“Was Celeste’s career actually at risk?”
“If Sebastian could establish that she had repeatedly presented junior designers’ concepts as solely her own, yes.”
“Repeatedly.”
Vivian said nothing.
“So there was more than one case.”
“I am not discussing the contents.”
“Was Sophie Trent one of them?”
Vivian’s eyes shifted.
Tiny movement.
Enough.
Romy said, “Sophie worked for Celeste.”
Vivian picked up a folder.
“This conversation is over.”
Outside, Leo said, “Sophie saw Sebastian alive at seven oh-one. She also worked for Celeste and may have been part of the article. So when she looked into the Blue Study, she had a reason to know he was there.”
“Careful.”
“What?”
“That moved from fact to interpretation too quickly.”
Leo sighed.
“Sophie seeing him may be innocent. But now we know her connection matters.”
“Yes.”
They found Sophie upstairs checking labels on the embroidered seat covers police had asked contributors to identify before later supervised collection.
She looked up.
“I wondered how long.”
“Until what?”
“Until somebody worked out I used to work for Celeste.”
“So you knew it might matter.”
“I knew everything connected to Sebastian would matter eventually.”
Sophie looked at Leo.
“You’re the placement student.”
“Assistant.”
Romy glanced at him.
Good.
“Congratulations,” Sophie said.
Leo accepted it.
Romy asked, “Why did you leave Celeste?”
“Because I was tired.”
“Of what?”
“Being told I should be grateful.”
“For the job?”
“For exposure. For access. For having my work seen.”
“Was it your work?”
Sophie looked toward the embroidered chair.
“Some of it.”
“Sebastian thought Celeste had stolen concepts from a younger designer.”
“I heard.”
“Were you that designer?”
Silence.
“Partly.”
“Partly?”
“There were others.”
“Who?”
“I’m not naming people.”
“Sebastian knew?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell him?”
“Some things.”
“What things?”
“I spoke to him twice. Once six weeks ago. Once last week.”
“About Celeste?”
“Yes.”
“Did you give him documents?”
“No.”
“Photographs?”
“No.”
“What did you give him?”
“Background. Dates. Projects. Names he could verify himself.”
“Why not evidence?”
“Because I did not trust him.”
“You were helping him.”
“I was helping myself.”
“Difference?”
“I wanted Celeste stopped. I did not want Sebastian turning my entire early career into entertainment.”
“Did he threaten to?”
“He implied the story would be stronger if I cooperated fully.”
Publication as leverage again.
“How did that make you feel?”
“Used.”
“Angry?”
“Yes.”
“Enough to confront him at Asterleigh?”
“No.”
“You looked into the Blue Study at seven oh-one. Did you know he was in there?”
“No.”
“Why he was there?”
“No.”
“Did he contact you that evening?”
“No.”
“Did you see Celeste enter earlier?”
“No.”
“Adrian?”
“No.”
“Marcus?”
“No.”
“What did Sebastian have on Celeste?”
Sophie looked away.
“The beginning of enough.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only one I’m giving.”
Romy left it there.
By four, she and Leo were back in the ground-floor site office with tea, two packaged sandwiches from Nell, and a depressingly long list.
Celeste.
Hugo.
Sophie.
Marcus.
Adrian.
Possibly Vivian, if refusing access to Sebastian’s files counted as suspicious, which Romy knew it did not.
Leo unwrapped a cheese sandwich.
“This is mostly bread.”
“You’re welcome to complain to the murder-site catering committee.”
“I’ll endure.”
Romy opened her notebook.
“Strongest motive?”
“Celeste. Immediate threat. Career-level damage. Public humiliation. Access to the room at 6:44. She knew the vent gap mattered and wanted it closed.”
“Hugo?”
“Real resentment. Previous financial damage. Weaker current trigger.”
“Sophie?”
“Personal grievance against Celeste and complicated connection to Sebastian. We don’t know what he planned to publish about her.”
“Marcus?”
“Method or access looks worse than motive.”
“Adrian?”
“Access and lying. No motive yet.”
“Good.”
Leo looked at her sandwich.
“You’re not eating.”
“I am thinking.”
“You can do both.”
“That sounds like Nina.”
“She texted me.”
Romy stared. “When did Nina get your number?”
“July.”
“Why?”
“Chips.”
“Of course.”
He pushed the second half of her sandwich closer.
Romy ate it.
A little after five, Ellis appeared in the doorway.
“You two live here now?”
“Temporarily.”
He looked at the notes.
“I told you not to conduct witness interviews.”
“We spoke to people.”
“That is the definition.”
“We did not take statements.”
“You asked Sophie Trent about Sebastian.”
“How do you know?”
“She called me afterward.”
Leo looked down at his sandwich.
Ellis said, “Good news.”
“There’s good news?”
“I’m allowing supervised access to Sebastian’s hotel materials where they overlap with Asterleigh.”
“Why?”
“Vivian identified several folders relating directly to the Show House, and you may recognize objects or installation references faster than we will.”
“Vivian agreed?”
“She agreed to supervised review.”
Sebastian had been staying at the Merewick Arms, three streets from The Fig & Thistle. His room had already been searched.
An officer stood near the door while Ellis opened the desk.
Laptop and phone were gone into evidence.
Two chargers.
Receipts.
Magazine proofs.
Three notebooks.
Four document folders.
ASTERLEIGH.
PRYCE HOUSE ADMIN.
HOTEL FEATURES.
The fourth had one word in black block letters.
ARDEN.
Romy looked at Ellis.
“That seems subtle.”
“Do not remove anything.”
“I know.”
He opened the folder.
Printed photographs, interview notes, project credits, public brochures, staff rosters, old design presentations.
Celeste Arden’s career reduced to paper.
Romy turned pages.
A Brussels hotel suite.
A Surrey private residence.
A restaurant project.
Then a series of photographs stopped her.
Textile studies.
Hand-drawn placement marks.
Samples pinned against blue-painted boards.
A decorative silk fragment mounted high above a fireplace-like surround.
Leo leaned closer.
“That looks like the Blue Study.”
“Not exactly.”
But close enough.
The photographs were older workroom images. Hands at frame edges. Pins. Tape. Fabric swatches.
Romy turned one over.
No printed credit.
Only Sebastian’s handwriting.
S.T. development room, approx. 2024.
Romy looked at Ellis.
“Sophie.”
He said nothing.
“Did she give him these?”
“Ask her.”
“You told me not to interview witnesses.”
“I’m adapting.”
Romy called Sophie before he could reconsider.
“What now?”
“I’m looking at Sebastian’s ARDEN file. There are photographs of development boards. Textile layouts. Blue walls. Mounted fabric fragments.”
Silence.
“One is marked with your initials. Did you give these to Sebastian?”
“No.”
The answer came hard and immediate.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Could he have photographed them himself?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because those were taken in Celeste’s old studio.”
“When?”
“Before the Brussels presentation.”
“Who had them?”
“Celeste. Me. Two assistants. Possibly the studio photographer.”
“Sebastian?”
“No.”
“Did you ever send him copies?”
“No.”
“Did anyone tell you they had?”
“No.”
Romy looked down at the photographs.
A younger Sophie appeared faintly in a mirror at the edge of one image, kneeling beside textile samples.
This was not press material.
It was working documentation.
Private enough that somebody had needed access.
Romy ended the call slowly.
Leo had gone quiet.
Ellis reached for the folder.
Romy kept one hand on the page for another second.
The case had shifted again.
Sophie had motive to resent Celeste.
Sebastian had been using Sophie’s history as part of his investigation.
But somebody else had supplied Sebastian with private photographs tied directly to that history.
Photographs Sophie insisted she had never shared.
Romy looked at the label on the folder.
ARDEN.
Then at the image of Sophie kneeling beside the blue design board.
Inside Sebastian’s ARDEN folder, Romy had found photographs Sophie insisted she never gave him.