Twenty-Three
The smelling salts exploded through her senses.
Beatrice came awake in a rush, mildly amazed to discover that she was alive. She opened her eyes and saw Hannah and Sally bending over her.
“Thank goodness,” Hannah said. “You had us worried there for a bit. How do you feel?”
“Like my brain is on fire,” Beatrice said.
“It’s the salts,” Sally explained with satisfaction. “Nothing like spirits of ammonia to clear the head, I say.”
“Do you still feel faint, Beatrice?” Hannah asked anxiously.
Beatrice sat up against the pillows and contemplated the question. She took a cautious breath and was relieved to discover that the painful sensation was fading.
“No,” she said. “I am definitely not going to faint. I don’t think I would survive another dose of those salts.” She looked around, trying to pull her memories together. “What is going on? Where is Mr. Gage?”
“He went back downstairs after he brought you up here,” Hannah explained. “Something about a body.”
“Oh, Lord, yes, the body on the altar,” Beatrice said. She sank back against the pillows. “I’m afraid that there is going to be a great scene. Nothing like a murder to bring a quick end to a country-house party.”
—
HALF AN HOUR LATER, Joshua knocked quietly on the door of the bedroom. Hannah let him in and shut the door behind him.
Joshua looked at Beatrice, who was sitting in a chair.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, “thanks to you and Sally’s smelling salts. What is happening?”
“Alverstoke has been awakened and informed that there is a body in his antiquities chamber. He is in shock, I believe, but he managed to send for the local authorities. They will arrive at any moment.”
“I am curious, sir,” she said. “Did you really have a gun with you tonight?”
“No, I dislike guns. They are noisy and not particularly accurate. Nor are they a good choice of weapon for someone who favors discretion, as I do. There is always a great uproar when a gun is employed. But I will admit that firearms can make for an effective threat. In the darkness the killer could not see if I was armed with one.”
“I see,” she said. She remembered what Hannah had said earlier. Josh is very skilled with knives.
—
“THERE IS SOMETHING I want you to know before the authorities get here,” Joshua continued.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I do not pretend to know what happened tonight but I am almost certain of one thing. Whoever murdered the man downstairs is the same person who killed Roland Fleming.”
The cold shock of memory lanced through her. “Dear heaven. I thought I saw his footprints but I told myself that I was hallucinating. What is this all about?”
“Among other things, it means that what happened here is connected to what happened on the night of Fleming’s death.”
“I don’t understand,” Hannah said. “What about the blackmail threat that I received?”
“I think,” Joshua said, “that it was bait in a trap. And I took the bait.”
“Why would someone need to set a trap for you?” Hannah said. “You have been a recluse this past year but you have certainly not been in hiding.”
“No,” Joshua said. “But someone else was.”
Beatrice swallowed. “Me.”
“I cannot be sure yet, but I am starting to think that someone required my services to do what I do best.”
“Find people,” Hannah whispered. “Good grief. Someone sent you to find Beatrice?”
“Not Beatrice,” Joshua said. “Miranda the Clairvoyant. The woman who disappeared the night of Fleming’s murder.”