CHAPTER 14 #3
“Whether I had seen it.”
“What did you say?”
“No.”
Another lie.
“Why?”
“Because Nell told me the sale could collapse if this became public before disclosure was handled properly.”
“So you lied to protect money.”
Daniel’s mouth tightened.
“I lied to protect the event.”
“Money.”
“Those are not separate.”
There it was again.
Romy did not like how much she understood.
By noon, Nell’s structural branch looked less like the murder route and more like another ugly secret Sebastian had collected.
Real motive.
Real concealment.
Real financial jeopardy.
But the timing was wrong.
Nell was with the buyer.
Daniel was downstairs.
Neither had known Marcus would carry the plate-warmer and felt toward the Blue Study corridor at 6:52.
Neither had access to the room during the setup period current evidence supported.
Ellis found Romy outside near the side garden after the interviews. She was sitting on a low stone wall with a paper cup of tea.
He sat beside her without asking.
“That is becoming a habit,” Romy said.
“What?”
“Sitting near me without interrogation.”
“I can leave.”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
She looked at the tea.
Ellis did not react.
That made it worse.
After a moment, he said, “Nell’s alibi is good.”
“I know.”
“Daniel’s access is weak.”
“I know.”
“Structural report gives both motive to fear Sebastian.”
“Yes.”
“But not the method.”
“No.”
Romy watched a groundsman push a wheelbarrow along the far path.
The normality helped.
“What does this do to the panel theory?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Sebastian had more than one story.”
“Yes.”
“He could have been killed over either.”
“Yes.”
“Or a third thing.”
“Yes.”
“You are unusually agreeable.”
“I’m tired.”
“Dangerous state.”
Ellis took her tea.
Romy stared.
“That is mine.”
He tasted it.
“It’s terrible.”
“I know.”
He gave it back.
For one second, the scene became absurdly intimate.
Not romantic.
She refused the word before it formed.
Just familiar.
Too familiar.
Ellis looked toward Asterleigh.
“People keep telling themselves they are protecting something.”
“Nell protected the sale.”
“Daniel protected the event.”
“Celeste protected her reputation.”
“Sophie protected her career.”
“Adrian protected himself.”
“Marcus says he’s protecting his company from false assumptions.”
Romy took another sip.
“And Sebastian?”
“He protected nothing.”
“No.”
“He weaponized everybody else’s fear.”
“That doesn’t justify murder.”
“I know.”
“But it explains why the suspect list keeps getting longer.”
Ellis stood.
“I need to go.”
“That was almost a useful conversation.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
He walked away.
Leo found her ten minutes later carrying two sausage rolls in a paper bag.
“Lunch.”
“Where did those come from?”
“Village bakery.”
“You left the site?”
“With permission.”
“From whom?”
“Officer Patel.”
Romy nodded.
“Excellent procedure.”
They ate on the stone wall.
Pastry flaked everywhere.
Leo tried to catch the crumbs in the bag and failed.
“You’re damaging a listed landscape.”
“It’s biodegradable.”
“That is not conservation policy.”
He smiled.
Then asked, “Nell?”
“Strong alibi.”
“Daniel?”
“Modest concern. Lied about the report. Protected the event. No useful Blue Study access.”
“So Marcus stays top.”
“Yes.”
“Celeste?”
“Still viable.”
“Because of charcoal, motive, and private room access.”
“Yes.”
Leo finished his sausage roll.
“Feels like every chapter of this case removes one lie and reveals another.”
Romy looked at Asterleigh.
“That is because the event rewarded appearances.”
“How?”
“Everyone needed it to look successful.”
“Even when it wasn’t?”
“Especially then.”
The house sat pale against the grey sky.
Beautiful.
Restored.
Marketable.
Structurally complicated.
Financially strained.
Displaying an object with false provenance.
Hosting designers with private disputes.
Selling tickets to a version of reality that depended on nobody asking the wrong question.
Romy had spent her career resisting that instinct.
Do not make old things look simpler than they are.
Do not erase repairs.
Do not pretend replacements are original.
Do not let presentation become falsification.
Asterleigh had managed the opposite at almost every level.
Her phone rang.
Vivian.
Romy answered.
“Please tell me you have something boring.”
“I rarely call with boring things.”
“That was the wrong answer.”
“Are you still at Asterleigh?”
“Yes.”
“Ellis?”
“Somewhere.”
“Find him.”
Romy straightened.
Leo noticed.
“What happened?”
Vivian continued.
“The police legal review team finished indexing Sebastian’s email account against his draft articles.”
“And?”
“There is a message chain you need to see.”
“Panel?”
“No.”
“Nell?”
“No.”
Romy stood.
“Then who?”
Vivian paused.
For the first time since Romy had met her, the lawyer sounded unsettled.
“Celeste.”
Romy looked at Leo.
“What about her?”
“Sebastian had been receiving material from somebody close to her studio.”
“We know about Sophie.”
“This isn’t Sophie.”
Romy’s grip tightened.
“What is it?”
“I’m not reading it over the telephone.”
“Vivian.”
“It points straight back to Celeste.”
The line went dead.