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“I was afraid he'd get here first. And I'm unsure of his state of mind right now. Although my guess is, he's gloating.”
“Get here? What makes you think he left?”
“Because he was in Berkshire and in London. He followed me to Pearson Manor. And after I left there last night, he killed Glynnis Martin and kidnapped Emma.”
For a minute, Breanna wondered if she'd heard right. “What?” She forced the room to right itself. “You'd better explain.”
Royce did, beginning with his interviews with the dowager and Glynnis and Emma Martin, moving to Emma's decision to go to her father, and then touching on the uneasiness that had besieged him upon leaving the manor that night. He culminated with what had happened this morning, when Bow Street gave him the shocking news of Glynnis's murder and Emma's disappearance.
“I don't understand,” Breanna replied, attempting to sort out all Royce had just said. “Why would you assume the assassin did this? It sounds more like the work of that killer Bow Street's looking for.”
“It is. They're one and the same.”
“Yes,” Hibbert murmured behind her. “It would seem they are.” He rose, pacing about for a minute before turning to face Royce thoughtfully. “All the noblemen died the same way?”
“Yes. A bullet to the heart”
“Just like the dolls, the chemise, and now the sketch,” Hibbert responded. “The blood on all of them is painted in the chest area.” He pursed his lips. “You think the murders were all part of a game?”
“More like target practice. Except Glynnis. That was a message to me.”
“He wants you to stay away.”
“Exactly.”
Breanna stared from one man to the other. “He killed people as practice?”
Royce didn't insult her by softening the truth. “Yes.”
“You didn't tell your theory to Bow Street, I presume,” Hibbert said, more a statement of fact than a question.
“No. I have no proof.”
One of Hibbert's brows rose. “Not to mention that you want to catch this blackguard yourself.”
“Not to mention that,” Royce concurred, a cold light guttering in his eyes. “There's a missing piece, though.”
“The kidnappings.”
“Right. That's the other thing Marks told me. The news hadn't gotten out yet, but apparently Hart's wife was kidnapped last night, too. So now all the victims have missing wives.”
“Except Ryder, who has a missing daughter.” Pensively, Hibbert stroked his chin. “Ransom makes no sense. Who would pay it?”
“That's what I want you to tell me. Cheek out all the victims. Find out everything you can: who'd inherit if their wives were gone, who drew up their wills, who had a grudge against them—anything that might give us some answers. This assassin doesn't do anything at random. Everything is planned with th
e utmost precision. He specifically chose his victims, just as he chose to kidnap their wives. There's got to be a reason why. Which means there's a common thread among the victims, besides the fact that they were all of noble birth.”
“Glynnis Martin wasn't of noble birth. But then, I notice you've omitted her from your reasoning.”
“Bow Street minks the killer came looking for Ryder and killed Glynnis when she spotted him.”
“And you mink he killed Glynnis to warn you away from Lady Breanna.”
“I know he did.”
“I agree. What’s more, he probably took her daughter to best you.”
“Or to divert me from Breanna.”
