CHAPTER 8
DEAD AIR
“He wasn’t trying to prove Celeste stole a room. He was trying to prove somebody stole the thing hanging in it.”
Sophie left the hotel before Romy found an answer worth giving.
For the rest of the evening, the sentence followed her.
Not Celeste’s career.
Not the plagiarism article.
The panel.
Something old enough for Sebastian Pryce to recognize, valuable enough to distract him from months of research, and questionable enough that his first instinct had been to ask who supplied it.
Marcus Fenn’s name now sat in two uncomfortable places.
He had supplied the panel.
He had also carried the brass plate-warmer and burgundy felt toward the Blue Study five minutes before Sebastian entered.
Romy disliked coincidences most when they arrived looking useful.
By eight thirty the next morning, Ellis had summoned her back to Asterleigh.
Not invited.
Summoned.
There was a difference.
She found him outside the police barrier speaking to a woman Romy had never seen before. Leo stood beside Romy carrying the Pattern House documentation case and looking annoyingly awake.
“You slept,” Romy accused.
“Seven hours.”
“That seems excessive.”
“It is generally recommended.”
“Not during a murder investigation.”
Leo grinned.
Ellis noticed them.
His expression suggested he regretted his decision before they reached him.
“Morning.”
Romy stopped beside him.
“That was nearly friendly.”
“It won’t happen again.”
The woman held out a hand.
“Dr. Anika Bose.”
Romy shook it.
“Romy Vane.”
“I know.”
Romy looked at Ellis.
“That isn’t my fault,” he said.
Anika was perhaps forty, with dark hair cut just above her shoulders, practical boots, and a charcoal jacket that had clearly seen actual work. Reading glasses hung from a cord at her neck. She carried a hard sample case in one hand and a notebook in the other.
Leo introduced himself.
Anika gave him exactly the same attention she had given Romy.
That immediately improved Romy’s opinion of her.
“Anika works with the county conservation service,” Ellis said.
“Building conservation?”
“Materials,” Anika said. “Paint, metals, timber, textiles, environmental deposits, combustion staining, contamination. If something has happened to an old surface and nobody agrees what, I generally get invited after the argument becomes expensive.”
Romy liked her more.
“Useful job.”
“Not for dinner conversation.”
Ellis looked between them.
“I already regret this.”
Anika smiled.
“I was told Ms. Vane knew the room before the incident.”
“I inspected it repeatedly.”
“And documented the decorative installation shortly before the preview.”
“At 6:31.”
“I’ve seen the image.”
Romy glanced at Ellis.
“He shares evidence with you.”
“She has qualifications.”
“So do I.”
“Different qualifications.”
Leo coughed.
Romy looked at him.
“Do you need water?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Ellis addressed both of them.
“You are here because the site review involves conservation alterations and because Romy can identify what changed from the approved arrangement. Nobody touches anything unless Anika or the scene team says so. Nobody removes anything. Nobody decides material resemblance equals identity.”
Romy frowned.
“That last one sounds targeted.”
“It is.”
They entered through Asterleigh’s side service door.
The house had lost all resemblance to the Show House.
Evidence markers interrupted expensive rugs. Protective sheeting covered sections of flooring. Police notices sat beside designer room labels. Flower arrangements had begun to sag because nobody was permitted to move them.
Leo paused in the entrance hall.
“Strange without everyone.”
“Better.”
“You hated everyone?”
“Forty percent.”
“That’s healthier.”
They followed Ellis upstairs.
The Blue Study remained sealed.
A fire investigation officer waited outside with Adrian Holt.
Adrian looked as though the last two days had been personally designed to exhaust him. His shirt was clean. Nothing else about him looked rested.
When he saw Romy, his expression hardened automatically, then gave way to resignation.
“You.”
“Me.”
Ellis said, “We are not doing that today.”
Adrian folded his arms.
“I’ve already explained the building systems four times.”
“Then the fifth should be polished.”
Anika stepped forward.
“I only need you to show me what existed before the decorative fit-out.”
Adrian glanced at her credentials.
His manner changed.
Romy noticed.
Apparently scientist outranked conservator in Adrian’s private hierarchy of women he preferred not to argue with.
“Fine.”
They did not enter the Blue Study first.
Adrian took them to a locked service cupboard at the far end of the corridor and used his master key.
Romy watched it turn.
So did Ellis.
Adrian noticed.
“I told you why I had it.”
“You also told me you weren’t near this corridor,” Romy said.
“I corrected that.”
“After being caught.”
Ellis looked at her.
“I know,” Romy said. “Not today.”
Adrian opened the cupboard.
Inside were old service drawings, shutoff labels, electrical access boxes, and a modern environmental sensor panel installed during restoration.
Anika crouched to read the labels.
“Gas?”
“Removed from this section years ago,” Adrian said.
“How many?”
“Eight, maybe nine. Before my time here.”
“Completely removed?”
“Supply capped at the lower service riser. Original room branches disconnected.”
“You have drawings?”
“Yes.”
He pulled a laminated services plan from a wall pocket.
Anika took it.
Romy leaned closer.
The Blue Study showed an old gas line marked DECOMMISSIONED.
Anika traced it with one finger.
“Physical confirmation?”
Adrian nodded.
“Downstairs.”
They descended to the basement service level.
Asterleigh’s public rooms had been built to impress.
The service spaces existed to function.
Stone flags. Painted pipes. Modern cable trays carefully threaded around older fabric. No styled flowers. No lacquer tables. No journalists.
Leo looked relieved.
“This part makes sense.”
“Pipes comfort you?”
“More than decorative books.”
“Good instinct.”
Adrian led them to the main service riser and indicated the sealed connection associated with the upper rooms.
Anika photographed it.
Then she asked for maintenance records.
Adrian produced them from a cabinet.
She read in silence, checking dates, contractor notes, inspection marks, and photographs of the removal work.
Finally she straightened.
“This line did not supply the Blue Study on preview night.”
Adrian looked at Ellis.
“I told you.”
Ellis said, “You also told me you weren’t in the corridor.”
Adrian’s mouth tightened.
Anika did not look up from the records.
“One truth does not repair another lie.”
Romy smiled before she could stop herself.
Anika noticed.
“So you’re the reason he looks tired.”
“There are several reasons,” Ellis said.
They returned upstairs.
The next stop was roof access.
Adrian objected.
“The chimney is capped.”
“I believe you,” Anika said.
“Then why are we going up?”
“Because belief is not inspection.”
Romy’s smile widened.
Ellis caught it.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re thinking loudly.”
Anika, Ellis, and the fire officer climbed to the roof while Romy, Leo, and Adrian waited in a small upper service room smelling of dust, timber, and someone else’s coffee.
A folding chair stood beside a box of electrical fittings.
Leo sat.
Romy leaned against the wall.
Adrian paced once.
Then again.
Finally he stopped.
“You really think I could have done this.”
Romy answered carefully.
“I think you lied about being near the room.”
“I adjusted a door.”
“So you said.”
“I didn’t touch the grille.”
“Then why lie?”
“I told you. I knew how it would look.”
“That excuse keeps getting worse.”
Adrian stared at her.
“You know what this project means to me?”
“No.”
“Two years.”
He pointed vaguely downward.
“Planning fights. Disabled access arguments. Electrical upgrades. Water damage. Insurance inspections. Twelve designers convinced basic safety rules were personal attacks.”
Romy almost sympathized.
Almost.
“And then a man dies in one of the rooms,” Adrian said. “I knew everyone would start asking who had keys.”
“Reasonably.”
“So I panicked.”
“Also reasonably. Lying was still stupid.”
“I know that now.”
Leo said, “Did anyone else have a master key?”
“Several staff.”
“Who?”
“Daniel. Me. Two duty managers. Security supervisor.”
“Designers?”
“No.”
“Marcus?”
“No.”
“Celeste?”
“No.”
Romy said, “Service doors could be opened from inside without one.”
“Yes.”
“So anyone entering the Blue Study from the main hall could exit through the service corridor.”
Adrian nodded reluctantly.
“Technically.”
“Could the decorative panel be adjusted without tools?”
“No idea.”
“You saw the mounting.”
“I saw a panel on a wall.”
“Imogen had a screwdriver.”
“I’m sure half the house had a screwdriver.”
Leo said, “Marcus had felt.”
Adrian frowned.
“What?”
Romy looked at Leo.
He stopped.
Good.
Too fast.
The roof hatch opened.
Anika came down first, dust on her knees.
“Well?” Adrian asked.
“The cap is intact.”
He spread his hands.
“Thank you.”
“No evidence of recent interference at the chimney termination,” Anika continued. “No path from an operating fireplace because there was no operating fireplace. No live gas supply. Your building systems are becoming less interesting.”
Adrian actually smiled.
“For once, I’m delighted.”
Ellis came down behind her.
Romy looked at him.
“So Adrian falls on method.”
Adrian’s smile disappeared.
“Nobody falls anywhere yet,” Ellis said.
“His systems did not produce the gas.”
“That does not mean he didn’t introduce another source.”
Adrian stared at him.
“You people are impossible.”
Anika said, “That is why evidence takes longer than gossip.”
Romy glanced at her.
Material first.
Theory second.
She could get used to Anika.
The Blue Study inspection began at 10:17.
Before entering, they put on protective overshoes and gloves under scene-team direction.
Leo remained outside.
He tried not to look disappointed.
“You’re doing more good with the photographic archive than you would standing three feet behind me,” Romy said.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”