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Avery sighed heavily. “It wasn’t actually him, was it?”

The shadow Justice slapped the hagstone out of her hand.

Avery followed its suspected trajectory. There was no stone, but she did see the telltale divot in the wall. Something had hit it. Something the killer did not feel safe to leave behind. “Damn it.”

“What?”

“I think our killer used a glamour to pretend to be Norton. Patricia, however, was too thorough. She wanted to make sure she knew what she would be signing. She ruined their plan by bringing out the hagstone. Our killer slaps it out of her hand. It’s not a calculated move, it’s desperation. It’s where they first lose control of the situation. Scared, Patricia immediately tries to run, but our killer grabs her. They struggle. Patricia attempts to claw her way to the bathroom.”

“So how did she end up like this, then?” Saga asked, gesturing to the broken bathroom mirror and the wounds that seemed to have been achieved with the shards of mirror that had broken off after she shattered it.

It was not a kind thought, but it was a regrettably simple answer. “This door swings outward,” Avery pointed out softly. “If you were worried about someone picking the lock and getting in, what would you do?”

Saga carefully stepped up to the door thoughtfully. She planted her right side against it and mimed bracing herself while pulling both hands toward herself.

Avery held up a finger to illustrate and dropped behind the door, slipping her fingers beneath it.

“They just slid it under the door,” said Saga, despondent. “It would have been exactly where her eyeline fell.”

“And we found the door open, suggesting once Patricia was incapacitated, our killer unlocked the door and retrieved their weapon, along with the hagstone that would have given them away.”

Lahiri returned to the doorway, breathless. “Spoke with the sentinels on watch, and you will not believe who visited Patricia Aldridge last night.”

“Was it Justice Wilhelm Norton?” asked Avery.

Lahiri’s shoulders slumped. “Yes?”

“You are correct, Inspector, I do not believe it.” Avery sighed. “No matter how much I want to.”

Lahiri frowned. “But—”

“Justice Norton is arrogant, without empathy, and unrepentantly sanctimonious. What he is not is a murderer. I imagine he was one of the authorities that had to approve her location—that the sentinel would not have thought twice about him visiting. Probably did not even think to verify his identity, because why would they? No one knew Patricia was here. Cockatrices can shift their own shape, so if I were Justice Norton, why would I show up to commit a crime looking like myself? Why not a council member, why not the Mercy? Further, why, if I could shift my shape and did not need to rely on a glamour’s illusion, would I have fear of a hagstone’s discovery?”

“You wouldn’t…” Saga spoke slowly.

“Why Justice Norton?” Lahiri countered. “What motive would he have?”

“The trial of Abigail Rhyder was his last as a Court Mercy. He confessed to me it was his only regret, that the others should have received far harsher punishments. From what I observed, he was not particularly shy about this point of view.” Her agitation increased as Lahiri only seemed further confused by what she could now see was a blatant and sloppy attempt to frame the Justice.

“But if it wasn’t him, who else had access to that kind of information?”

“Iona said something the other day that had me wondering,” admitted Saga. “She said she imagined the only person who had seen Abigail had been her advocate. But her advocate quit that position because of her case. So, who was going to see her?”

“His former assistant,” Avery answered in defeat. “The person who would not be bound by the record’s seal but would have taken notes and known the details.” She felt her hands grow cold, starting at the fingertips and moving up her arms. “The person he admonished for her bleeding heart.” Her memory solidified on that day in Velouette’s office. She’d pulled a vault key from her desk before she left.

“I saw Velouette the same day I ran into Iona at Karnaby House. Iona said she was there for business…” Saga shook her head, feeling foolish. “I didn’t even make the connection they might have been meeting. I never saw them together.”

“I didn’t make a connection either,” Avery whispered. “First day I met Patricia, Velouette let me believe she hadn’t worked on that case yet. She knew to call Patricia a former witch.”

Chapter 33 Saga

Justice Norton had not arrived at the Palace of Judication that morning. He was not answering his phone. Sentinels were dispatched to his home yet found nothing. Upon entering, they found the house was undisturbed, save for a few conspicuously empty hangers and drawers left open. It was likely a slipshod effort to make him look like the guilty party he had been framed to be the previous night.

Upon questioning Fáfnir, they confirmed that Velouette Radu had not only taken something from the vault the same morning she met Iona, it had been from a vault owned by Abigail Rhyder. Not only did she have the key, she had the paperwork releasing the items into her custody. Abigail’s personal effects when she was arrested—including a locket. A locket one might have easily hidden a shard of mirror in.

It should have felt more triumphant.

“Assistants are required to review everything we make copies of.” Roxanne’s voice echoed in Saga’s mind as they made their way to Mercy Radu’s office. “We even have to take notes on things that end up getting sealed.”