Page 31 of Hawk & Sparrow

“Maybe he was involved in something illegal,” Vesper suggested.

“Like what?”

Vesper pursed her lips. She imagined what Tom might say in a moment like this.

When your questions lead to a dead end, ask different questions.

“It may take some time for us to figure out how Francis bankrolled his life, but I think we also need to think about why he felt the need to lie. If he was using a fake identity, he likely had something to hide, and it’s possible that one of those things got him killed.”

Maximilian looked amused. “You think Francis was hiding something scandalous?”

“Maybe,” said Vesper. “It’s also possible that, as you’ve already said, Mr. Gladwell just wanted to create a more interesting persona to give him more credibility with high society so that he could woo them. Remember, at the exhibition he said he was openly looking for investors.”

“But we saw that Belver had already made an offer to buy the rights to his machine,” said Maximilian.

“An improved offer,” Vesper corrected him. “Meaning he’d already made one offer and been turned down. Gladwell must have felt that he could get far more for his machine than ten thousand gild, especially if multiple investors were involved.”

Maximilian cocked his head. “So what’s the theory? You think Belver got mad?”

The coach hit a hard bump in the road without warning. Maximilian caught himself in time, but Vesper nearly slid off the bench. At the look on his face as she readjusted herself, she scowled.

“Do I amuse you, Mr. Kite?”

The corners of the sorcerer’s lips quirked. “Only when you make that face. Did you know that there is an ancient creature from mythology called Medusa? Legend holds that she was a monstress with snakes for hair, who could turn men to stone with a single terrifying glare, not unlike the one you’re wearing now.” He paused, thoughtful. “As I consider it, maybe you’re related.”

“She sounds like a perfectly reasonable woman,” Vesper muttered.

“In other news…” Maximilian withdrew two papers from his pocket. “I have some things you may find of interest. The guest list from the exhibition, and a list of the staff who worked the event.”

Vesper looked up, all previous thoughts abandoned, and snatched the papers from him.

“I also wrote to Mrs. Oelrich about the blueprint of the maze, but haven’t heard back yet,” he noted.

Vesper skimmed the exhibition’s guest list, then shuffled the papers to look at the list of waitstaff.

“You don’t really think a member of the staff did this?” Maximilian asked. “Blaming the servants is a little clichéd, Evans, don’t you think?”

Vesper looked up. “Clichés exist for a reason, you know. Sometimes they’re right.” She opened her notebook and began to take notes. “You’re focused on Belver because you think he’s a shrewd businessman who wanted control over Gladwell’s machine, but rich people aren’t the only ones with ambition.” She pointed to the list of waitstaff. “Someone could have easily disguised themselves as a server, lured Mr. Gladwell away from the partygoers, and killed him.”

“Fair enough.” Maximilian pulled something else out of his pocket wrapped in a napkin. It was an apple cinnamon muffin. Vesper stared.

“Exactly how many desserts do you carry on your person, Mr. Kite?”

“One for every occasion,” he replied solemnly. “The wise man is never caught without sustenance.”

Vesper rolled her eyes and went back to the list of waitstaff.

“And what about you?” he asked.

“Me?”

“What kind of desserts do you like?”

Vesper deadpanned. “I don’t eat dessert.”

“Liar!” Maximilian looked scandalized. “Come now, Evans, indulge me.” He waggled his brows. “If I’m supposed to be courting you, this is the kind of thing I ought to know. Besides, I’ll only keep asking if you don’t tell me.”

“Fine.” Vesper set the lists down. “My favorite dessert is a raspberry tartlet, sprinkled with sugar.”