I couldn’t have put it better myself.
“Sir Percy,” Damian said quietly, as we climbed the gray stone staircase, “would you like me to look into the situation at the post office?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, old man,” Sir Percy boomed. “You’ve got a job to do, and it’s a damned sight more important than tracing the whereabouts of a few piffling letters.You leave the mystery of the missing post to me.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. “Anyone for a swim? Or we could jog up to the observatory and have a peep at the stars. The sky’s on fire tonight.”
I sagged against the balustrade and groaned.
Damian almost smiled. “I believe Lori is telling you, in her own subtle fashion, that she’s tired, Sir Percy.”
“I couldn’t jog from here to the top of the stairs,” I conceded, “much less to the top of the southwest tower. We walked from one end of Erinskil to the other today, Percy. If I don’t get to bed soon, Damian will have to carry me there.”
“One end of Erinskil to the other, eh?” Sir Percy glanced at me shrewdly. “It seems a long way to go to convince the islanders of your passion for bird-watching. You could have spent the day sitting comfortably on the Slaughter Stone and created the same impression.”
“I wanted to stretch my legs,” I said quickly. “And, believe me, they’re stretched.”
“Hobble off to your suite and rest them, then,” said Sir Percy. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
We parted at the red-carpeted corridor, but not before Sir Percy had nailed me with another penetrating glance. I ignored it. I was determined to avoid telling him the true reason for our extended tour of the island. Erinskil was, in his mind, a perfect jewel. I didn’t want to be the one who diminished its brilliance.
Fifteen
I kicked off my shoes the moment I reached the Cornflower Suite, where lamps had been lit, a fresh fire laid, and the bed turned down. Reginald had evidently won the chambermaid’s heart, because a small upholstered armchair had been appropriated from the nursery for his use. My pink flannel rabbit sat serenely near the fireplace in the bedroom, looking for all the world like a country squire awaiting his pipe and slippers.
I touched a match to the blocks of dried turf in the hearth and sank with a grateful sigh into the standard-size armchair in the bedroom. After greeting Reg, I put my weary stockinged feet up on the hassock, propped Aunt Dimity’s journal on my knees, opened it, and launched with hardly a pause for breath into a rapid-fire account of Erinskil’s alleged criminal activity. Dimity, however, proved true to her gossip-laden upbringing in Finch by interrupting me and asking first and foremost to be informed about the “nature of the relationship” between Peter and his dark-haired companion. I told her what I knew.
Fearless, kind, and wise—what splendid qualities to praise! They’re far more practical than mere prettiness, and more durable as well. Dimity’s fine copperplate acquired so many extra curlicues that the journal page began to resemble a Victorian valentine. She was extremely fond of Peter. I do hope Peter won’t spend too much time searching for the right moment, or that Cassie will be fearless enough to choose the moment herself. She sounds a perfect match for the dear boy—so clever of her to dye her hair!—and he deserves nothing less. Emma and Derek will be so pleased.
“I expect they will be, if the paparazzi ever leave them alone,” I said.
Paparazzi are like midges, my dear. They swarm from one warm body to the next, seeking fresh blood.When the story goes stale, which it inevitably will, they’ll move on to their next victim. Now, what’s all this about a conspiracy?
I curled my legs beneath me and shifted the journal to my lap. I was eager to review Cassie’s outrageous explanation for the islanders’ prosperity and to find out what Dimity thought of my sensible theory.
She didn’t think much of it.
A group inheritance could happen, I suppose, and clever investments might endow a community on an ongoing basis, but I’m afraid that the rest of your argument is weak. It doesn’t explain why the islanders have gone to such lengths to discourage visitors.
I felt a prickle of frustration. My hypothesis seemed sound to me. Why did it strike everyone else as preposterous?