It was easier to breathe as they approached the gate, though that was just as likely her anxiety as it was a matter of air quality. The retreat from Varney House felt akin to the end of a horror film when the surviving heroes stumble back to the real world after managing to withstand being trapped by a murdering psychopath.
Avery had to fiddle with the rusted handle before opening the gate outto the street once more.
It was disorienting, stepping back into London as she’d left it. The fresh air, the sprawling manicured vertical gardens, and the bright colors of the passersby—it was as if stepping onto the grounds of Varney House was an unknowing act of entering a different realm altogether. Had time even passed while they were inside? Or, more likely, had more time than she’d perceived gone by? Was it still the same day?
“Did you findanything?”
Shaking the sluggishness from herself, she began to lead Avery back toward the West Brompton station. “Oh, I found a plethora ofthings, just nothing relevant to the case. The woman is an absolute hoarder. Walls and walls of shelves of items collected over the years—including items in the fridge and deep freeze. I don’t think she cooks very much. Everything in there was all long past their expiration date.” She frowned. “I almost feel bad for her, truth be told. She was either never given the tools to take care of a house like that or was so convinced she’d never need them, she never bothered to learn.”
“That does align with Benjamin’s gossipmongering at the funeral,” Avery commented—she sounded disappointed. “So no blood drops, no organs?”
Saga shook her head. “Honestly, I find it unlikely she’d be able to get anything like that in her fridge, let alone keep it intact. If she was Campbell’s partner, she’s not storing anything in that house. I don’t know howshe’sliving in that house.”
“Do you know for certain that she is? The whole place was barely touched.”
“She’s definitely been sleeping in the primary bedroom for a while—at least since before Eira passed. I suppose it’s plausible they might have utilized one of Eira’s many other properties to keep the body and perform the ritual, but I have no idea how we’d even begin to narrow that down.”
Avery nodded thoughtfully. “I think we can safely rule her out as asuspect after that conversation. While she contradicted herself and, in some cases, flat-out lied, I think she believed every word when she spoke it. I’m not sure she’s stable enough to pull something like this off.”
“Stable is not an adjective I’d use for Doctor Campbell’s killer.”
“True, Alistair Campbell’s murder was impulsive, improvised, and imprecise. However, the planning required prior to that moment suggests a calculating mind—which means that crime of passion was a decided snap. Then of course there ishowhe was murdered. You and I both know it takes a good deal of force to…” She thought better of the blunt approach and finished with, “dowhat was done to Alistair Campbell.”62
Saga nodded reluctantly. “Carys Varney seems to lack both the physical strength and strength of will for anything but her own self-image to accomplish that.”
“My thoughts exactly. Though she did confirm one thing at least: Doctor Campbelldidtry to help Mari Goff.”
“Do you think she’s right about Osian?”
Avery shook her head. “Honestly, I am no longer sure what to think after that woman’s rambling theories from uncredited sources. Can we even trust what little coherent testimony she managed to give?” Avery gave a frustrated growl. “My head feels a mess. This all used to come so much easier to me.”
“I’m not really an expert on solving murders, but this case feels a lot more tangled and messy than perhaps your typical crime,” Saga offered.
Avery grunted.
“At least we can work on it together?”
A smile involuntarily tugged at Avery’s lips. “Quite right.” She took adeep breath and her posture straightened, while her steps lightened. “So Carys is not our killer. Where does that leave us?”
“Well, she did point us to Benjamin?”
“True, and while he’s worth investigating, let’s make sure we’re not getting lost in the weeds she’s thrown us in. I know you can’t see them, but do you think she may have used glamours anywhere?”
Saga reached into her pocket for the paper Carys had scribbled onto to look at the address again. “No. We both saw a mentally frail woman in a dusty crumbling house. And someone who places that much importance on what even nonexistent gossipy socialites think of her? I think if she had the ability to use a glamour or any sort of illusion, the entire house would have been covered in them.”
Avery’s raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips in a manner that communicated something along the lines of “touché.”
Saga typed the address into her phone, waited for the map to load, and chuffed a laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Benjamin’s address.” Saga showed Avery the map. “To market, to market, we go to Knightsbridge.”
Avery shook her head. “Home again, home again, jiggity-jig.”
“Aw, I didn’t actually expect you to know what I was referencing,” said Saga. Her shoulders raised a little, pleased.
“You think that’s surprising, imagine realizing that ‘To Market, To Market’ somehow survived two hundred years,” joked Avery with a bewildered laugh. “As far as children’s rhymes went, it was not one I’d have deemed capable of standing the test of time.”
