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“What?”
“I can pick locks without leaving a trace. Roman Blackwell taught me.”
“I should have
known.” She laughed quietly.
“Don’t worry, I won’t break anything.”
“We’ll eat in St. Anne,” she suggested. “And then walk there. I don’t believe they have cars in Alderney.” She was looking straight ahead, as if watching where she was going, but he thought she was also avoiding looking at him.
“Well, May Trelawny’s house can’t be more than a couple of miles,” he pointed out. “Or we will be in the sea.”
They were in town already, but there was no one about.
“Fortunately I remembered to bring a lock pick,” he added.
“What? Oh! Yes.” She turned to look at him in the light of a streetlamp. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“You! Hadn’t thought?” He tried not to laugh as he said it.
For a moment, she seemed off balance, as if not sure if he was teasing her or not.
It was the first time he could recall her at a loss and suddenly he saw her vulnerable—not absolutely sure of herself.
“No. But we’ll manage better with one, won’t we?” There was less confusion in her voice now. It had been only a moment, but it stayed with him.
“Of course,” he said cheerfully. “The hotel will give us a decent meal and, please heaven, they will know where Aunt May’s house is!”
“Do you think I don’t?” she asked. “I did do at least that much. I was prepared for the possibility that you wouldn’t come!” She shot a brief glance at him, and then looked away again.
They reached the hotel and went in the well-lit doorway, into a warm reception room decorated with flowers.
They asked for accommodations but were not surprised to be told that every room in the town was taken. The weather had been lovely, and the few people who knew the island well returned again and again.
They were welcome to a hearty dinner, though.
“We’ll start tomorrow,” Daniel said, when they were seated and looking at the surprisingly sophisticated menu. It was only then that he remembered that while on English territory, they were geographically far closer to France. The French influence was so natural, fitting in so easily, that they barely noticed it.
“We haven’t time to be subtle,” she agreed. She chose a simply cooked dish of fish and vegetables.
He decided to order the same. “Have you any plans, specifically? We already know the disposition of the will. It all goes to Rebecca. The only thing we might learn is why it is important, if it is…” Suddenly, the adventure of it seemed pointless. They were pretending they could succeed, but the mirage needed only to be touched to disappear.
“We can find out who is interested in buying the house,” Miriam answered, very serious again. “And I want to learn more of May’s death. There may be nothing to find, but we came to look.”
With news of the murder of Morley Cross they had discovered the total darkness behind what had looked to be no more than shadows. They could not ignore that the victims in this case could be more numerous than they had ever envisaged.
“I wonder if Sidney ever came here,” he said. “Or anyone else involved in the case. Do they even have a policeman here?”
“They’ll have a postmaster…or a postmistress would be even better,” she answered. “I wager she knows everybody and much of their business better than any constable. It will be gossip, so leave it to me.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you good at gossiping? I would never have guessed it. It is so…” Then he was lost as to how to finish.
“A woman’s thing?” she asked quietly, but with a definite flicker of humor in her face.
He did not know how to interpret that. A compliment? Or an insult? But he had heard that hesitation again, the moment of hurt. “An inexact thing for a scientist,” he answered with sudden assurance.
She smiled. “Aren’t lawyers exact, too?” She looked very directly at him.
