Twenty-Five
I was not hallucinating, after all,” Beatrice said. She looked at the seething footprints on the floor. “The man who murdered Roland was, indeed, here last night. He waited there, behind that large statue. When the blackmailer arrived he crossed the room to the altar and murdered him.”
“But first he probably used the incense to incapacitate his victim,” Joshua said. “He used it again when you arrived.”
They were standing near the sarcophagus in the great hall, attempting to piece together a picture of what had transpired during the night. The lamps were illuminated but at Beatrice’s request they were turned down low. Joshua had not argued when she had explained that it was easier to see the wispy traces of energy in the shadows. She knew he did not believe that she could actually make out the paranormal prints of the killer and his victim, but he was willing to let her handle her side of the investigation her way.
She glanced at him and saw that he was examining the alabaster bowl that contained the remains of the incense.
“I have been meaning to ask you two questions,” she said. “First, how is it that you were not affected by the smoke last night?”
“I did the same thing that I did when I escaped from the burning laboratory last year. I covered my nose and mouth with a cloth and tried not to breathe any more than absolutely necessary. It did not take long to find you and remove you from this chamber. A matter of two or three minutes, no more.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“When I entered the room I could smell traces of the stuff. That gave me time to take precautions.”
“It affected all my senses,” Beatrice said. “I got dizzy and I started to hallucinate. It was as if the statues were coming alive.”
“If you ever smell the stuff again, cover your nose and mouth and try to get down low to the floor.”
“Why?”
“The fumes are carried in the form of smoke, which rises.”
“Yes, of course. I should have thought of that.”
“You were caught by surprise,” he said very seriously. “And there was the shock of finding the body. That sort of thing can be disorienting.”
She smiled to herself. “Thank you for your understanding. If you had not found me when you did, I suspect we would not be here chatting today.” She looked at the bloodstains on the altar and shivered. “That brings me to my other question.”
Joshua moved across the space to examine the altar.
“What?” he asked.
“How did you know that I was in danger? No one came or went from this chamber. The blackmailer was killed before I arrived and the assassin was already inside when I entered the room. What alerted you to my situation?”
“Sometimes one gets a feeling that things have gone wrong with a plan.”
“Yes,” she said. “I know the feeling. It’s called intuition.”
“If you are about to inform me that intuition is a psychical talent, you may as well save your breath.”
“You don’t think it’s paranormal in nature?”
“No, I do not,” he said. “It’s merely a combination of observations—some of which are so small that we are not even consciously aware of them—and unconscious awareness of the connections between those observations.”
“Some might call that psychical awareness,” she said.
He paid no attention. “Last night while I was watching the door to this chamber I noticed a faint but detectable draft in the hallway outside. It was coming from this room.”
“A draft, hmmm? And what does that tell us?”
“It tells us that there is another door in here, most likely a set of servants’ stairs.”
She glanced around. “I don’t see another door.”
“Walk me through the events of last night from the very beginning.”
She did as he asked. When she finished the short narrative she came to a halt in front of the altar.
“This is where I was standing when the fumes overcame my senses,” she said. “I had just seen the body and noticed the killer’s psychical prints. I sensed another presence in the chamber. I thought I saw one of the statues coming toward me.”
“Which one?”
“It was the jackal-headed god, Anubis, in his partially human form.” She wrinkled her nose. “I know, it sounds ridiculous now, but at the time I could have sworn it was a statue come to life.”
“Or a man wearing a mask,” Joshua suggested.
“Why would the killer wear a mask?”
“Two reasons, first to protect him from the incense.”
“Yes, of course. And the second reason?”
“To cast terror into the hearts of his victims. He knows that the incense is causing them to hallucinate. The mask would generate more fear. Some professionals enjoy that aspect of the kill.”
She drew a breath. “I see.”
“What else did you observe?” Joshua asked.
“Nothing very helpful, I’m afraid. I saw Anubis coming toward me. He spoke in a Russian accent. Something about Did you think you could escape me, little whore? And then I saw the light you struck. The killer realized he had been discovered and he fled. That’s all I remember.”
“Now we must find the source of the draft that I detected. You say the voice came from behind you?”
“Yes.”
“The killer did not go past me on his way out, so the second door must be here somewhere.”
Joshua started toward the nearest wall. She knew he intended to conduct a methodical search for the source of the draft. She cleared her throat.
“I think I can save you some time,” she said.
He glanced at her. “How?”
She looked down at the trail of seething footsteps. “I believe you’ll find the door over there behind that granite figure.”
He raised his brows. At first she thought he would ignore what she had said and continue to search in his own fashion. To her surprise, however, he crossed the chamber to the large stone statue and disappeared behind it.
“There is a servants’ door back here,” he announced. “Excellent observation, Beatrice.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I made it with my paranormal senses.”
He reappeared from behind the granite figure. “It’s far more likely you felt the draft yourself last night and registered the approximate location using your normal sense.”
“You are very good at concocting normal explanations to explain the paranormal.”
“That is because the normal explanations usually suffice.”
“Mmm.”
She walked through the maze of antiquities to join him. When she rounded the granite figure she saw that the door had been designed to be as unobtrusive as possible. Its location behind a jumble of relics made it virtually undetectable from anywhere else in the chamber. A large portion of a tomb painting stood directly in front of it.
“The killer knew about this door,” Joshua said. “That means he has more than a passing familiarity with the hall. Clement Lancing moved in a circle that included a number of collectors. He would have known Alverstoke.”
“Do you think Lancing is the killer?”
“No,” Joshua said. “Lancing had no skill with a knife. He would have used other methods. Poison, most likely.”
Joshua wrapped one hand around the doorknob and twisted. The door opened easily enough. Beatrice found herself peering at a flight of stone steps that disappeared into a sea of night. The killer’s footprints burned on the steps.
“He was in a rage,” she said. “Furious because he had been interrupted before he could finish whatever it was he came here to do.”
Joshua contemplated the darkness for a moment.
“I’ll get a lantern,” he said. “We will find out where this leads.”