CHAPTER 9 #2
Adrian arrived in the temporary site office with the inventory sheets held like a legal victory.
“There.”
Ellis took them.
“You seem cheerful.”
“My entire staff have just confirmed we did not poison anyone.”
“That is a low bar for employee satisfaction.”
“It has been a difficult week.”
Romy scanned the list.
“Any charcoal used for drawing demonstrations?”
“No demonstrations.”
“Floral work?”
“No.”
“Odour absorption?”
“No.”
“Pest treatment?”
Adrian stared.
“What sort of conservation are you doing?”
“Checking.”
“No charcoal anywhere.”
Anika, working at the far end of the table with photographs from the previous day, said, “That only means none was recorded or admitted.”
Adrian’s satisfaction dimmed.
“Can anyone in this building say something uncomplicated?”
“No,” Romy and Ellis said together.
They looked at each other.
Anika kept working.
Leo smiled into his tea.
Marcus arrived at three fifteen.
Not summoned by Romy.
Requested by police.
He entered the site office in a dark coat carrying none of his usual charm.
The absence made him look older.
Ellis gestured toward a chair.
Marcus sat.
Romy remained by the window. Leo was allowed to stay because his 6:52 photograph had become part of the discussion.
Ellis put a print on the table.
Marcus looked at himself carrying the brass plate-warmer and burgundy felt.
“Yes.”
“You confirm that is you.”
“I was hoping age had not advanced that far overnight.”
Ellis did not react.
Marcus sighed.
“Yes. It’s me.”
“You took the warmer toward the Blue Study corridor.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Celeste had asked earlier whether it might work in the study instead of Harriet’s dining room.”
Romy straightened.
Celeste had not mentioned that.
“When?” Ellis asked.
“During installation. Earlier that afternoon.”
“Did you take it into the Blue Study?”
Marcus hesitated.
“No.”
Romy heard the fraction.
Ellis did too.
“Where did you leave it?”
“In the service corridor.”
“Exactly where?”
“Near the small storage recess.”
“With the felt.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I realized I was due outside for the sponsor remarks and didn’t have time to argue with Celeste about whether she still wanted it.”
“You left both objects unattended.”
“For a few minutes.”
“From approximately six fifty-two.”
“Yes.”
“When did you retrieve them?”
Marcus looked at him.
“I didn’t.”
Silence.
“Why not?”
“The preview was underway. After the speech, I was pulled into three conversations. Then Sebastian was found.”
“So the last time you personally handled the warmer was before seven.”
“Yes.”
“And the felt?”
“Same.”
“Was there charcoal inside the plate-warmer when you carried it?”
“No.”
“Any fuel?”
“No.”
“Combustible residue?”
“Not that I knew.”
“Do you use charcoal with antique warming equipment?”
Marcus’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
Romy saw it.
“Yes.”
Leo glanced at her.
She stayed still.
“Explain,” Ellis said.
“Fenn Found occasionally gives demonstrations for heritage venues or private clients. Old food-service equipment. Plate warmers, chafing arrangements, foot warmers, braziers.”
“What fuel?”
“Depends on the object.”
“Charcoal?”
“Sometimes.”
“How familiar are you with operating charcoal-fired warming equipment?”
Marcus’s irritation appeared.
“Familiar enough not to light it inside an unventilated decorated room.”
“That was not the question.”
“Yes. I know how it works.”
“Did you bring charcoal to Asterleigh?”
“No.”
“Did your staff?”
“No.”
“How can you be certain?”
“Because we were not demonstrating anything.”
“Would the brass plate-warmer ever have contained charcoal previously?”
“Possibly years ago.”
Anika looked up.
“The fresh deposit is not years old.”
Marcus turned toward her.
“You’re certain?”
“Certain enough to say the recent material is distinct from the established grime layer. Laboratory work will tell us more.”
Marcus looked back at the photograph.
For the first time since Romy had met him, he seemed genuinely shaken.
“That object has been in storage for months.”
“Whose storage?” Ellis asked.
“Mine.”
“Who had access?”
“Warehouse staff.”
“How many?”
“Six regularly. More depending on deliveries.”
“Celeste?”
“No.”
“Adrian?”
“No.”
“Sophie?”
“No.”
“Sebastian?”
“Certainly not.”
Ellis tapped the photograph.
“But you personally carried it to a corridor leading directly to the room where it was later recovered.”
“Yes.”
“And left it unattended.”
“Yes.”
“With a folded length of burgundy felt similar in appearance to fibres recovered at the blocked ventilation grille.”
Marcus’s face went still.
“That felt is common.”
“Your version has a gold woven edge,” Romy said.
Marcus looked at her.
“The fibres you found had gold?”
Anika answered.
“We have not established source.”
Romy felt Ellis’s gaze.
“I know.”
Marcus leaned back.
“Then don’t put my name on fibres because you dislike the coincidence.”
“I don’t dislike you.”
“That isn’t as comforting as you think.”
Fair.
“Could someone use your felt to block airflow?” Ellis asked.
“Of course. It’s felt.”
“Could someone use the warmer to burn charcoal?”
“Yes.”
The word sat heavily.
Marcus added, “Someone could also use a saucepan, metal bowl, or any other heat-tolerant vessel. That does not mean I did.”
Romy said, “You understand the equipment.”
“Yes.”
“So would anyone who worked with you.”
“Yes.”
“Did Celeste?”
Marcus considered.
“She has seen demonstrations.”
“When?”
“Years ago. We did one at a country-house event she attended.”
Ellis wrote it down.
Marcus gave Romy a tired look.
“You’re trying to turn expertise into motive.”
“No. Into capability.”
“Same direction.”
“Not the same destination.”
Something like his usual amusement returned.
“Pattern House survives on distinctions like that, doesn’t it?”
Romy thought of the headline.
Room approved by Pattern House Conservation.
“Yes.”
Marcus looked sorry immediately.
“That was badly put.”
“It was accurately put.”
Which was worse.
By four thirty, the police had more charcoal possibilities and fewer simple answers.
Celeste owned charcoal and had concealed her Blue Study access.
Marcus understood charcoal warming equipment and had delivered the object containing fresh combustion residue.
Adrian’s team had no recorded fuel source and no building system that explained the gas.
Sophie had lied about meeting Sebastian.
Vivian controlled access to his research but had concealed nothing obvious.
Everyone seemed to have acquired one terrible fact and one fact preventing it from becoming decisive.
Romy returned to Pattern House with Leo shortly before six.
A letter waited in her inbox from her professional-indemnity insurer.
Not a standard email.
A request for immediate documentation review.
She read the first paragraph.
Then stopped.
Leo put the kettle on without speaking.
Pattern House had been required to notify the insurer as soon as Sebastian’s death became potentially connected to completed conservation work.
Romy had done so.
Now they wanted everything.
Contract scope.
Risk assessments.
Completion sheets.
Photographs.
Correspondence with Asterleigh.
Designer alteration requests.
Ventilation notes.