I glanced across the table at Gage. “Let me guess. Was it from his finger?”
Trevor seemed to deflate at my already knowing this. “Well, yes. How did you know?”
“A finger bone was also missing from Mr. Tyler’s skeleton. Sir Colum’s body was reburied without being checked, but I would wager that there’s a finger bone missing from his skeleton as well.” I pushed my half-eaten apple tart away from me, too excited now to finish it. “Did he mention which finger bone it was?”
He closed one eye to think. “The . . . proximal phalanx?”
“Proximal phalange.”
He pointed at me. “That. Of the index finger.”
“And he’s the third victim. Do you know what this means?”
Gage and Trevor both looked at each other blankly.
“The bone taken from the first victim, Mr. Tyler, was a distal phalange, at the tip.” I lifted my hand to illustrate. “And I’ll wager a hundred pounds that the bone missing from Sir Colum, our second victim, is the intermediate phalange.” I pointed to the next bone, below my first finger joint.
Gage’s eyes brightened, beginning to understand the point I was trying to make.
“And our third victim, Lord Buchan is missing his proximal phalange.” I indicated the third bone below the second finger joint.
Trevor sat forward suddenly, sloshing the wine at the bottom of his glass. “So whoever is responsible for these body snatchings now has an entire finger.”
I studied my brother’s flushed face, wondering just how much wine he’d had to drink this evening. “Well, yes and no.”
“But what of our fourth victim?” Gage asked.
“He may be planning to collect the metacarpal as well.” Using the thumb and forefinger of my opposite hand, I gripped the palm of my hand below the knuckle. “Or . . .” I hesitated to speak aloud the thought that had occurred to me.
“Or what?” Trevor prompted.
Gage’s face reflected the grimness I felt. “Or he’s collecting an entire hand, or worse, an entire skeleton.”
We all fell silent, considering the disturbing implications.
I frowned and shook my head. “No. That doesn’t make sense.” I looked up at Gage. “You said yourself he’s likely collecting these bones as a sort of trophy, and he hasn’t been indiscriminate about who his victims are. He selects them very specifically. And in the same vein, I would like to suggest he’s also keeping these bones for a very specific reason.”
“He’s figuratively pointing the finger at them,” Gage declared in a solemn voice.
I nodded. “Yes. Or something very like that.”
“Maybe he’s just giving them the finger,” Trevor mused, swirling the wine in his glass. He snorted. “Or taking it from them.”
I turned to scowl at him, but Gage merely cracked a smile.
We rose from the table soon after and crossed to the drawing room, where I dropped down on one corner of the settee. I propped my elbow on the arm and pressed my face into my hand, too tired to do much else, but knowing I needed to allow time for my meal to digest before I lay down or else I would feel ill when I was trying to sleep.
A moment later I felt a dip in the cushion and then a warmth beside me. I peered between my fingers to find Earl Grey looking up at me. I reached out to scratch him beneath the chin. Then he circled the cushion and settled down pressed against my leg.
“That dashed cat,” Trevor exclaimed, flopping down on the settee across from me. He glowered at the feline. “He’s been absolutely despondent since you left.”
I glanced down at the cat in surprise.
“Wandering the house with his pitiful whine. There were several nights when I should have liked to have gone down to the gun cabinet and taken out a pistol and ended all of our misery.”
Earl Grey opened his eyes at the sound of my brother’s increasingly agitated voice, and then closed them again unconcerned. His purring never ceased.
“When you return to Edinburgh for Alana’s confinement, you’re taking him with you,” Trevor declared.
“Oh, but I don’t think—” I began to protest, but my brother cut me off with a fierce glare.
“If you don’t, there’s no telling what may happen to him.”
I studied the cat. I wasn’t worried Trevor would actually shoot him. But he might stick him in a bag and ride out to the middle of nowhere and leave him.
I ran a hand down the soft gray fur on the cat’s back. He cracked open his eyes and then closed them again. I supposed it would be best to take him with me.
I lifted my gaze to find Gage watching me from the opposite end of the settee. His eyes twinkled in amusement, and his mouth curled in a knowing grin. I turned away and ignored him.