“Let me speak to him!” Rosetta said, hurrying down. Reaching the landing, she pulled the door open wide. “Constable,” she said firmly. “I’m very glad you are here. My sister was attacked! In front of everyone. This is a serious matter that needs looking into.”
Constable Maxwell nodded his greeting to her attentively. “I agree. Your sister was just about to tell me her version of what happened.”
“If you were there, then you’ve seen as much as I did,” Clem said curtly. “The papers rose up from my lawyer’s desk. They whirled around near the ceiling and then came down toward me.”
“It was quite vicious, Constable,” Rosetta jumped in. “They were folded into sharp points, like daggers.” She looked earnestly at Maxwell. “I’ve no doubt that the enchanter meant her serious harm. Had the judge’s thew not intervened, Clementine would have been badly hurt.”
“It was only paper,” Clem said quietly.
Maxwell listened to these interpretations without comment. “Have there been any other circumstances like this one?” he asked, inviting them both, at a glance, to reply.
“None,” Rosetta said quickly.
“I’ve never been attacked with flying papers before,” Clem said.
Maxwell considered her for a moment. “Have you been attacked with other objects?”
There was a brief silence. “Do you have a particular object in mind?” Clem asked.
Maxwell looked at her intently. Clem’s face was a closed door; no thoughts, no warmth, no light of interest in her eyes. I gave Maxwell a push of encouragement. “I do, as it happens.” He paused. “Stones.”
“?‘Stones’?” Rosetta echoed. She frowned. “But stones…that would be quite painful, even—Clem!” Her eyes widened with sudden awareness. “Remember that Cassandra—”
“I’ve never been attacked by stones,” Clem said shortly, interrupting her sister.
I was incensed! I wanted to shake her. Since I couldn’t, I sent her a burst of furious indignation, which she responded to by frowning. It was the most outrageous lie by omission!
Maxwell studied the sisters with interest. “I see,” he said quietly. “I’m glad to hear that.” He paused for a moment, seeming to consider. I pushed him again. “I’m investigating a series of cases,” he said with a newly pensive tone. “There have been five such crimes already this year, all of them against young women. All of them fatal,” he added quietly.
“How dreadful,” Rosetta whispered.
Clem did not reply.
“Perhaps you’re aware that injuries inflicted at the time of death don’t cause bruising—bruises are made as the body recovers from a blow.”
“Oh,” said Rosetta, recoiling. She covered her mouth with her hand.
“Constable Maxwell,” Clementine said in a firm voice. “This conversation is taking longer than I expected. I need to be somewhere by nine. You may either speak to me as I walk or I will come to your offices at another time. There’s no need to discuss this on our doorstep with my sister—she’s not involved.”
Maxwell nodded. “I apologize. I wouldn’t trouble you if the circumstances were less serious. I’ll gladly walk with you.”
Clem nodded curtly. “Please wait here.” She herded Rosetta up the stairs. Maxwell waited on the sidewalk, letting the morning sun fall on his face. A minute later, Clementine rejoined him. She carried her satchel weighed down by the three books. “I’m walking south,” she said, gesturing.
“That suits me fine,” Maxwell said agreeably.
They started off in the direction of Keel House, Clem on the narrow sidewalk and Maxwell beside her in the street. As they walked in silence, I felt a faint flicker of hope. Clem had wanted to conceal her injuries from Rosetta; perhaps now, in private with Maxwell, she would reveal the truth. I sent her a current of stern admonishment as she shifted the heavy book bag. She shook her head. This was meant for me, I had no doubt, but Maxwell took it as a gesture of disapproval.
“I apologize for upsetting your sister,” Maxwell said.
“I doubt very much that you mind upsetting her,” Clem said flatly. “Your interest is in the case.”
Maxwell took a moment in silence. He may well have been wondering how to summon sympathy for a person of such unrestrained rudeness. Or perhaps he understood that among some people—myself, certainly, when I was alive—officers of criminal enchantment didn’t elicit much in the way of trust. I pushed some fortitude upon him. “You’re right, Miss Quinn,” Maxwellsaid. “I didn’t mean to be insincere. The investigation is a matter of greatest importance. While I don’t wish to upset people, and I don’t relish it, doing so may be necessary at times if I’m to pursue the investigation.”
“I congratulate you for your single-mindedness.” Well. The apology, and a pretty one at that, hadn’t softened her one bit. I pressed some patience upon her, hoping that she might look past the uniform. She gave a little huff, but I was not to be deterred. Nor was Maxwell.
They’d reached the square, and now the two walked side by side along the graveled path. Maxwell seemed to be considering his tack. “Let me get to the heart of the matter,” he said doggedly. “I was saying that bruises caused at the time of death don’t appear in a natural death.”
“I do recall.”
