CHAPTER 13 #2
“You have that.”
“Not enough.”
“Then what?”
Romy rebuilt the sequence.
6:31, her photograph.
6:44, Celeste.
6:48, Adrian.
6:52, Marcus.
6:55, Sebastian expecting Fenn.
6:57, Sebastian enters.
7:01, alive.
7:03, message to Vivian.
7:05, Marcus public.
Somewhere in that span, the grille was packed, charcoal was placed or lit, and Sebastian was drawn into the Blue Study.
The room had not failed.
Someone had prepared it.
“I need to know when the alteration happened.”
Nina waited.
“And why Sebastian entered.”
“You know why.”
“Not exactly.”
“The panel.”
“Partly.”
“He expected Fenn.”
“Yes.”
“But Marcus denies meeting him.”
“Yes.”
Nina tore off bread.
“So either Marcus is lying, Sebastian was mistaken, or someone used Marcus’s name.”
Romy looked at her.
Nina shrugged.
“I run a pub. People lie near me constantly.”
“That was annoyingly useful.”
“You’re welcome.”
Romy picked up her spoon.
“If I can prove when the vent was changed, that narrows who could have prepared the room.”
“Yes.”
“If I can prove why Sebastian believed he was meeting Marcus, that tells us whether he was lured.”
“Yes.”
“And if the meeting was false.”
“Then somebody knew what Sebastian was chasing.”
Romy stopped.
Not only the panel.
Sebastian’s research.
His questions.
His expectation of provenance proof.
Whoever manipulated the meeting needed to know what he wanted well enough to bait him with it.
Nina watched the thought arrive.
“There.”
“What?”
“That face is better.”
“What face?”
“The one where you’re annoyed at a problem instead of crushed by it.”
Romy looked at her empty bowl.
“You fed me into competence.”
“I’m very good.”
The reset held until Nell Ashby called.
Romy considered ignoring it.
Nina returned the phone.
“Control what you can.”
Romy answered.
“Nell.”
“I wanted to speak before you saw the payment notice.”
“I saw it.”
A pause.
“I am sorry.”
“You froze nearly twenty thousand pounds.”
“It is temporary.”
“That word is doing a lot of work this week.”
“The committee’s solicitors advised it.”
“Of course they did.”
“Romy, if there is any possibility of a contractual claim.”
“There isn’t.”
“We do not know that yet.”
“The police do.”
“The police have not issued a final report.”
Romy gripped the phone.
“Nell, Pattern House completed the conservation work correctly. Someone deliberately altered the room after my documented inspection.”
“I know.”
“Then pay the invoice.”
“I cannot authorize it alone now.”
“That sounds convenient.”
“It isn’t.”
Nell’s voice tightened.
“I need this Show House resolved as much as you do.”
“Why?”
Silence.
“Nell.”
“You know why.”
“No. I know you care about Asterleigh.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“No.”
Another pause.
“We were preparing to sell.”
Romy sat straighter.
“Sell the house?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“This winter, ideally.”
“To whom?”
“A private buyer.”
“Agreed?”
“Advanced negotiations.”
“Does the buyer know Sebastian died there?”
“Yes.”
“Does the Show House failing matter?”
“Of course.”
“How much?”
Nell exhaled.
“The Show House was meant to demonstrate that the restoration was complete, that Asterleigh could function safely as a high-value residence and event property, and that there was no unresolved reputational mess attached to it.”
Romy almost laughed.
“That went well.”
“I know.”
“Is the sale at risk?”
“Yes.”
There it was.
Financial desperation.
Not vague committee concern.
Personal stakes.
“What happens if the sale collapses?”
“That is private.”
“You froze my invoice while telling me we share a problem. It stopped being entirely private.”
Nell’s voice hardened.
“There are loans.”
“How serious?”
“Serious enough.”
“Against Asterleigh?”
“Yes.”
“Did Sebastian know?”
“I don’t know.”
Romy thought of his research habits.
“Did he ask you about the sale?”
“No.”
“Anything structural?”
Nell paused.
Briefly.
Too briefly.
“No.”
Romy caught it.
“What was that?”
“What?”
“You hesitated.”
“I’m tired.”
“So am I.”
“There is nothing else.”
“Nell.”
“I called to explain the invoice.”
“And you have.”
“I am sorry.”
She ended the call.
Romy stared at the phone.
Nina said, “You heard that.”
“Yes.”
“She lied.”
“I don’t know.”
“You think she lied.”
“Yes.”
“Better.”
“Why better?”
“Because now you have something useful to be annoyed about.”
The next morning, Romy arrived at Pattern House before Leo.
He came in at eight forty-six carrying coffee and stopped when he saw the whiteboard.
Romy had rebuilt the Blue Study timeline across it.
6:31 ROMY PHOTO.
6:44 CELESTE IN ROOM.
6:48 ADRIAN SERVICE CORRIDOR.
6:52 MARCUS WITH WARMER + FELT.
6:55 SEBASTIAN NOTE: FENN, BLUE STUDY.
6:57 SEBASTIAN ENTERS.
7:01 SOPHIE SEES SEBASTIAN ALIVE.
7:03 TEXT TO VIVIAN.
7:05 MARCUS PUBLIC.
Leo looked at it.
“You started without me.”
“You were late.”
“It is eight forty-six.”
“Exactly.”
He put down the coffee.
“What are we looking for?”
“Visual confirmation of the panel gap after 6:31.”
“We searched.”
“We searched for people, then objects. We were mostly tracking the warmer.”
Leo understood.
“The panel itself.”
“Yes.”
They reopened every available image showing even part of the Blue Study between 6:31 and 6:57.
6:34, room open but too distant to measure.
6:39, no view.
6:44, Celeste entering. Panel edge obscured.
6:46, door behind Celeste. No usable view.
6:48, service side only.
6:52, Marcus. No interior.
6:56, landing video. Door mostly closed.
Romy paused the footage frame by frame.
Nothing.
Leo leaned closer.
“If we can’t see it, we can’t time the change.”
“Not yet.”
A knock sounded at the office door.
Mavis Orme stood outside.
Romy knew her from Asterleigh’s volunteer committee. Sixties, practical coat, large handbag, permanently disappointed expression.
“I won’t stay,” Mavis said.
Leo moved toward the kettle.
“Tea would help.”
Of course.
Three minutes later, Mavis sat at the worktable with a mug.
She looked at the whiteboard.
“I heard Nell froze your payment.”
“Yes.”
“Cowardly.”
“Contractual, apparently.”
“Same thing in better shoes.”
Leo hid a smile.
Romy said, “What can I do for you?”
Mavis stirred her tea.
“Sebastian asked me questions on Thursday.”
“About the panel?”
“No.”
Romy’s attention sharpened.
“About what?”
“Asterleigh.”
“What about it?”
“The sale.”
Romy sat.
“He knew Nell was trying to complete a sale after the Show House.”
“How?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“What did he want from you?”
“Committee papers.”
“What kind?”
“Repairs. Survey work. Anything discussing the east wall.”
“A structural issue?”
“That was what he implied.”
“What east wall?”
“The section behind the old morning room and part of the upper service corridor.”
Not the Blue Study.
Close enough to matter to the property.
“What did you tell him?”
“That I had never seen a structural warning.”
“Was that true?”
“Yes.”
“But?”
Mavis looked down.
“Last winter, I remember Daniel saying there had been a specialist report after cracking was found near an old drain run.”
“Structural engineer?”
“I assumed.”
“Did you see it?”
“No.”
“Did Sebastian?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he ask Nell?”
“Yes.”
Romy sat very still.
“What did Nell say?”
“That no such report existed.”
The hesitation from the previous night returned.
Nothing structural?
No.
A lie, perhaps.
Or another carefully limited answer.
“Why are you telling me?”
Mavis looked toward the whiteboard.
“Because yesterday Nell told the committee Sebastian had never raised any building issue with her.”
“And you know he did.”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone else hear?”
“I did.”
“Who else?”
“Daniel was nearby. I don’t know whether he heard the whole exchange.”
Leo set down his mug.
“When was this?”
“Thursday afternoon.”
Romy looked again at the timeline.
The panel.
False provenance.
The property sale.
A possible structural report.
Sebastian had not been chasing one story.
He had been gathering leverage around Asterleigh itself.
The question was whether those threads met.
Mavis tightened both hands around her mug.
“There’s one more thing.”
Romy waited.
“Sebastian wasn’t asking whether the report was bad.”
“What was he asking?”
“Why Nell said it never existed.”
Romy felt the case widen again.
Mavis looked directly at her.
“Sebastian had been asking questions about a structural report Nell claimed did not exist.”