CHAPTER 10 #2
Anika inspected the closer arm, adjustment point, latch, frame, and door edge, then checked the service record.
“This is functioning within ordinary design.”
Romy said, “But once Sebastian entered and the door closed, the room stopped getting incidental airflow from the hall.”
“Yes.”
“With the transfer route already packed.”
“Yes.”
“So concentration could rise faster.”
“Potentially. But do not make the door itself sinister. Doors close.”
Adrian almost smiled.
“Thank you.”
“In this case,” Anika continued, “the closer appears to have done exactly what it was installed to do.”
Ellis looked at Adrian.
“Which weakens the theory that your adjustment created the hazard.”
“Thank you.”
“It does not erase your lie.”
Adrian’s smile disappeared.
“Of course not.”
By eleven, three technical facts no longer bent easily.
Fresh beech charcoal had been burned recently inside the plate-warmer.
Thick wool felt had been deliberately packed into the transfer gap after Romy’s 6:31 photograph.
The Blue Study door closer functioned correctly.
No defect.
No accidental closure failure.
No historic system producing gas.
No conservation spacer collapsing.
No fireplace sending fumes into the room.
Somebody had created the dangerous condition.
During the evidence team’s break, Romy, Leo, and Anika went to the old service pantry.
“There is coffee,” Leo announced.
Romy inspected the pot.
“That liquid has been there since before we arrived.”
“Tea?”
“Safer.”
Anika opened a cupboard.
“Ginger biscuits.”
Leo brightened.
“Fresh?”
“Within date.”
“Luxury,” Romy said.
They made tea.
For five minutes, nobody discussed carbon monoxide.
Leo told Anika about a railway poster auction he had been following online.
Anika knew the artist.
Leo looked delighted.
Romy stared at her.
“You collect posters too?”
“No. My father restores old railway signage.”
Leo nearly dropped his biscuit.
“That is better.”
He launched into enamel lettering while Anika listened without pretending.
Romy watched him.
Less than a day ago, Leo had offered to leave Pattern House.
Now he was standing in a police-controlled heritage site talking too quickly about typography because someone had taken his interest seriously.
Confidence could be damaged by one sentence.
Restored by another.
Training him meant more than correcting evidence logic.
Anika looked at her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring.”
“I’m observing staff development.”
Leo stopped.
“That sounds threatening.”
“It should.”
Anika smiled.
The reset lasted until Ellis appeared.
“Romy.”
She knew from his face the next conversation would not involve biscuits.
He took her to the former morning parlour, the same room where she had given her first formal account.
The cheerful flowers were gone.
Good.
Ellis closed the door.
“What?”
“Sit.”
“That always makes things worse.”
“Sit.”
She did.
No recorder this time.
That mattered.
“Anika’s preliminary findings, the scene reconstruction, and the fire investigation now align.”
Romy waited.
“The carbon monoxide did not come from a defective fireplace, historic gas line, chimney fault, or mechanical-system failure.”
“I know.”
“The plate-warmer contained recently burned beech charcoal.”
“I know.”
“The transfer grille was deliberately obstructed after your photograph.”
“I know.”
“The door closer functioned as designed.”
“I know.”
Ellis looked at her.
“You are impossible to brief.”
“You summoned me to watch all of that happen.”
“Then I’ll skip to the part you don’t know.”
Romy stopped.
Ellis folded his hands.
“The working theory is deliberate carbon-monoxide poisoning.”
The sentence was quieter than she expected.
Accident became deliberate.
Failure became design.
Sebastian had not died because an old building went wrong.
Someone had made the room dangerous before he entered.
“So this is homicide.”
“Yes.”
“Formally?”
“Working classification pending final pathology and full forensic reports, but yes. We are investigating his death as deliberate poisoning.”
Romy looked at the table.
Relief moved through her.
Immediate.
Ugly.
She hated it.
Sebastian was still dead.
Nothing improved because Pattern House had not killed him accidentally.
Yet something locked inside her chest released.
She had not failed the room.
Her spacer had been correct.
Her photograph had been correct.
Her signoff had been within scope.
Her conservation work had not generated the poison.
Someone had defeated it.
Then guilt followed.
Ellis watched her.
“You’re allowed to be relieved.”
“I know.”
“You don’t look like you know.”
“It feels indecent.”
“It isn’t.”
“A man is dead and I’m pleased my insurance position improved.”
“You’re pleased you didn’t cause his death.”
Romy looked at him.
“That sounds better when you say it.”
“It is also more accurate.”
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Romy said, “Can you tell the insurer?”
“Yes.”
“The committee?”
“Yes.”
“The press?”
His silence answered.
“Why not?”
“Because we are not releasing mechanism details yet.”
“You don’t need to. You can say Pattern House’s work is not considered the cause.”
“I can say that privately to relevant parties.”
“That does not repair the headline.”
“No.”
Her relief vanished.
“The committee implied Pattern House approved the fatal condition.”
“I know.”
“They let that stand.”
“I know.”
“Now you know it was false.”
“We know your documented conservation arrangement was altered.”
“So say it.”
“I don’t control the Show House committee.”
“You control what police confirm.”
“And I am not issuing a detailed public statement that tells the killer what we have proved.”
Romy stared at him.
That was the first answer she could not argue with.
She hated that too.
At noon, Nell Ashby and Daniel Reeve arrived for a committee meeting.
Romy was not invited.
She went anyway.
The ground-floor drawing room held Nell, Daniel, two committee members, Vivian Cross, and a crisis communications consultant called Peter who immediately began using phrases Romy distrusted.
“Reputational containment.”
“Unified messaging.”
“Legal exposure.”
Peter looked at Romy.
“We may need part of this discussion limited to committee members.”
“Then you should not discuss Pattern House while I’m outside.”
Vivian looked at Peter.
“Let her stay.”
Good.
Nell appeared genuinely relieved when Ellis’s written update was summarized.
“So the restoration didn’t cause it.”
Daniel said, “The police are saying the room was altered after signoff.”
“After Romy’s photograph,” Vivian corrected.
Important.
Peter folded his hands.
“That helps.”
“It more than helps,” Romy said. “It retracts the basis of the implication you allowed on Friday night.”
“We never accused Pattern House.”