The various groups hurrying soon reached the area of the servants' quarters. They did not need to ascend to the second floor however, for on the first floor they found Shona MacKenzie the housekeeper, with her arm around one of the maids (Davis knew her as his second cousin Isla), who was sobbing hysterically.

They were outside the butler's room, which was slightly ajar.

"He's dead," said Shona MacKenzie immediately. "Mr Rendell - he's dead."

"I found him!" said Isla MacKenzie, with a fresh storm of weeping. "I thought he was asleep - but when I pulled back the blanket ... "

She sobbed again.

Davis looked at the crowd ahead of him and decided to let someone else lead the way into the butler's quarters. "There, there, Isla, deep breaths." He comforted his cousin as best he could, keeping an eye and an ear on the happenings in the stranger's room.

"Sir Colin needs to know of this," Davis said, to no one in particular.

"Yes, indeed," Selina agreed, staying well away from the door and wringing her hands. "And we don't all need to be here, do we? Now that we know -- what's happened. Why don't two or three of us go find Sir Colin, and the rest who aren't needed can go over to the morning room and -- and collect ourselves a little?"

"Somehow apropos, eh? The Mourning Room," Garreth chuckles in a dark humour. " Davis why don't you go find Colin. Mr. St. Pierre, perhaps you'd accompany him?"

"Sandra, would you help Lady MacKenzie to the other room?" he asks.

"Sir Colin suggested we should all meet in the Great Hall," said Oswald. "That might be better - he's already asked some people to meet us there."

"Oh, well, then, that's where we'll go." Selina took a few steps down the hall, stopped, and turned back, an invitation for others to follow her. She met Will's eye and jerked her head in the appropriate direction; if he would not back her up, who would?

Davis looked to his cousin and his aunt, judging if they needed his presence. Deciding that Aunt Shona had things well in hand, he gave Isla a last pet on the arm, said "yes, sir, I'll report this to the Captain," and left, not remembering to wait to see if Mr. St. Pierre was accompanying him.

"Right," Dr. Marsden said, taking a deep breath. She nodded to Garreth, then started to follow Selina. "I don't suppose... you know where the brandy is kept?" she asked Selina. "I suspect the staff aren't going to be of much assistance at the moment," she pointed out, glancing back at the hysterical maid.

"Mrs. MacKenzie is equal to anything -- and there's brandy scattered all over this place," Selina answered with a helpless wave of one hand. "We'll open a liquor cabinet somewhere once we're settled in the Great Hall. I think the billiard room has one."

Will nodded. "I think my place is with my sister, and Miss Belseur could probably use a brandy," he said to Garreth. "We're all going to end up in the Great Hall anyway, along with... Sir Colin. Saves us telling the story more than once." Taking Josette by the hand, he followed Selina and Sandra Marsden.

Zap looked through the door at the dead body lying on the bed. He felt sick.

"Dead! Oh..."Josette exclaimed in horror, closing her eyes tightly as she turned her back to the scene and hid herself Will's arms.

Will received her there, stepping aside slightly to keep the pretty chanteuse out of the line of fire. He stroked her hair, almost absently. "It's all right," he said, though he knew it wasn't, and might not be for some time.

Dr. Marsden stood in the hall outside the office that led to the butler's room. She took a step back and leaned against the opposite wall. "At least," she said in a shaking voice, "we're not trying to put out a fire at the same time." She rubbed her upper arms, as if trying to warm herself.

"How... how did he die?" she asked. "Dr. Campbell?"

The physician made his way to the butler's bed, begging several persons' pardons as he pushed through the wave of guests. He knelt by the bed, checked Rendell's pulse, and shook his head. He made a quick examination of the bedclothes.

"It appears Rendell was smothered. There are traces of blood and saliva on the pillow case. Doesn't appear as if he struggled much; but then, he was sedated after his shock at the Laird's death." Dr. Campbell concluded, turning to look at the others.

"Was anyone besides Professor Marsden out of bed last night? And at what times?"

David entered the room, feeling more than a little queasy. He walked to the far side of the bed, carefully, giving space for Dr. Campbell to join him when he entered the room.

He began with a visual inspection and then joined Dr. Campbell in the examination.

A thought occurred to him but he tabled it for the moment.

"My wife and I were not." David said, turning back to look at the body of the butler, trying to maintain his self-balance in the face of the second tragedy of the holiday.

Garreth entered the room, careful to not disturb anything. He looked over the body and the rest of the room without moving a item. Care was taken to look for other exits and entrances to the room, and the area under the bed.

There was only the one entrance, and a narrow slit window that would not be sufficient to let even a child through. Rendell was lying on his back in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Apart from a pillow on the floor, the room was almost scarily immaculate.

"I took a walk. I couldn't sleep," Garreth said. "No, no one saw me, nor can I account for my time," he admitted predicting the next question. "I wandered through the Museum and then into the top floor of the Round Library, where I found a book that helped me relax until I returned to my room."

"You'll find that it was a collection of poems by Lord Rochester, and it's still on the nightstand in the Spruce Room."

"Did you see anyone on the lower floor of the library?" asked Oswald. "Was anyone there, reading? You get a clear view down, don't you, from the top floor?"

As Colin and Adrian left the dining room and headed for the Print Room where Douglas MacKenzie-Brown was lying, Colin said quietly, "Did you find anything else out? Anything that might be important in helping to solve our cousin's death?"

He suddenly gave a strained smile. "I'm aware," he added, "that you may have uncovered evidence that could incriminate me ... "

"Mrs. Mackenzie-Brown has a large volume of correspondence from America , by the postmarks," replied Adrian . "Since she's an American herself, it's neither surprising nor suspicious. Major Barnstable also had a packet of documents fall out from a place we checked for gloves. Miss Bellseur has a locked jewellery casket that we chose neither to break into, nor to ask for the key to.

"None of those are of any immediate use, but that's all that I've got to offer. We found nothing remarkable anywhere else."

"None of them sound like a reason for murder in themselves," agreed Colin. "And yet ... and yet ... he was a man who aroused strong feelings ... "

He nodded to the footman who was on guard and they then went into the room together.

"The ideal solution," he said suddenly, "would be if Selina were expecting a child. A wee MacKenzie, who could be brought up here on Verrisay, like the Lairds before him. I don't suppose you'd be knowing anything about that?"

Adrian shook his head. "If she is, she hasn't said anything to me about it. From everything that I've seen this week, I'll agree that it would be an ideal solution.

"An interesting question becomes who the next of kin is outside Selina. We should ask Garreth about that when we get back down to the Great Hall."

Colin started, with a strange delicacy, to search the body.

"Not my favourite task," he said quietly. "I had to do this during the War, you know. Search the bodies of my men for person effects ... things they might wish returned home. A grim business ..."

Adrian 's response was a quiet one. "Fortunately, it's not something I was ever forced to do in South Africa . Whether that's because I was only a Lieutenant or because I was in the Corps of Engineers I couldn't say."

"Ah ... here's a key ring," said Colin suddenly. "The desk in the library, I think - and the safe in his bedroom."

"Do you think we should check it?"

"I think we should check the safe now, but leave the desk alone until we've got both Selina and Mr. Warren in the room with us. If there were another solicitor in the castle, I'd suggest using them just to be clear that there were no conflicts of interest present, but he's the only one we've got." Mr. Quinn was much more firm in stating his opinion on the best course of action. After a brief pause, he added, "And let's hope that the Cross is in the safe."

"Indeed," said Colin. "The safe's in his bedroom - the Tartan Room."

Rigor mortis had worn off on the corpse, and one arm slumped down and hit the floor as Colin reached the door. Adrian walked back over to place the arm back across the chest.

The shirtsleeve rode up the corpse's arm as he did so. What he saw - or, rather, what he didn't see - made him call out before the former Laird had made it all the way out into the hall.

"Colin, come back here. This isn't Douglas."

"What?" Colin, at the door, turned and moved back towards the bed. He looked from the arm ... to Arian ... to the arm again.

"You're sure?" he asked. "What should I be seeing there?"

"A small double-circle, or filled-in figure 8 if you'd rather, about two fingers past the upper end of the shirt cuff."

As Adrian answered, Colin was rolling up the dead man's other sleeve.

"Just in case," he explained.

The other arm was similarly blemish free. Colin lowered the arm back thoughtfully.

"Quinn," he said suddenly, "let's say nothing of this for the moment. I want to think - I want to work out the implications. I need to talk to Warren ... "

He made his way to the door again, then waited for Adrian .

Adrian nodded silently, then rolled the sleeves back down and made sure they were secure before leaving the room. He wasn't certain how many other people were aware of what he and Colin had just not seen, but there was no sense in taking unnecessary chances.

Davis had almost reached the Great Hall when he heard Colin's voice from the top of the stairs. He turned and took the steps two at a time arriving at the top of them to meet the two men.

"Beggin' your pardon, sir, but Ca- Mr. Warren asked me to inform you that Mr. Rendell has been murdered, sir."

Colin started, glanced at Adrian - and then again at Davis .

"What happened?" he asked. "How was he killed ... and when?"

Davis put on his professional face, distancing himself from the emotional impact of what he was telling the men. "Smothered, Sir. With a pillow. The doctor was examining him when Mr. Warren sent me. Isla found him, when she went to see when he would be available. I believe the doctor said he was killed after midnight , and the staff was stirring by 5 or half past 5 this morning. A window was left open, presumably to let the cold in."

"He must have known ... something," said Colin slowly. "The question is ... what?

"I think we need to start talking to people - and finding out what they know - and what they remember."

Davis nodded. "Very good, sir. Aunt Shona has already started asking her staff for such information. Unfortunately, no one recalls seeing anyone in the servant's wing in the wee hours of the morning. There are tasks that are still half-completed--Mrs. MacKenzie Brown and I were examining the plate and china for unusual signs of berry stains where they didn't make sense when we were interrupted by Aunt Shona and Isla. Aunt Shona will be the best person to organize the staff to speak to you, sir, if she's up to it after her shock."

"Agreed," said Colin, as they came into the Hall. "And she's a sensible woman ... "

He broke off as Garreth approached them.

When people had concluded their investigations, they returned to the Great Hall, where Colin MacKenzie had suggested they should gather.

The Hall was looking much drearier in the light of day. Lady Amelian and Emma Sinclair had been gathering wreaths and examining - one large pile (without yew) they were replacing carefully - five wreaths that comtained yew they had set aside but - they said - they did not think any of these had been interfered with in any way.

The Rector, Mary Roberts and Brian Shea, assisted by Major Bastable, had arranged the chairs around the fire, where the Yule log was still burning and giving off considerable heat. The room was large enough that people could break off into smaller groups ...

As they arrived, everyone could help themselves (or each other) from a supply of tea, mice pies and Christmas cake which Mrs Margot MacKenzie (the cook) had organised for them.

When David reached the Great Hall, his eyes ignored the food that Mrs MacKenzie had brought, for the moment. His eyes instead raked the room, looking for his wife.

The Missionary then shuffled in her direction, relieved when he finally saw her.

He likely caught a glimpse of her as they made their way downstairs. She had been relieved to see him safe upon her arrival upstairs, and had stayed back, not wanting to get in the way. She had hurried down the stairs, and likewise, looked for him as the others arrived in the room.

She made her way to his side, meeting him halfway, capturing his hands in hers and squeezing, her expression concerned. "This is awful," she whispered. "I find myself hesitant to even eat."

David nodded, squeezing her hands in return. "One murder is a tragedy,
two is one which is enough to make anyone tremble, and stomachs turn."

Patience nodded.

Dr. Campbell placed a sheet over Rendell's body after the others' left, his examination concluded for the nonce. A second murder... what had Rendell seen that required he be silenced?

The physician headed to the Great Hall to join the others. However, he was in no mood for food or drink. "Was anyone besides Professor Marsden and Lord Eversham out of bed last night?" He asked again.

"I think it was about midnight when I stepped out to smoke," Dr. Marsden offered. She was sitting in the chair closest the fire. "I seem to recall seeing at least one servant in that time. And, yes... I do remember a light on in the round library. But I didn't look in."

Will St. Pierre shook his head. "I checked in on Selina and went right to bed. Read for a little while... not more than half an hour... then turned out the light. That's it."

Selina shook her head, really all she needed to do. Once she had taken the doctor's prescription she had slept like a rock. She still felt more than a little muzzy-headed, in fact.

She got herself a slice of pie, more for politeness's sake than actual hunger, and a cup of tea.

Will, having made sure that Josette had a comfortable seat and a glass of brandy, went to the table, where he took some pie and a cup of coffee - and a moment with Selina. "We may have a small problem or two. I need to talk to you, but not in front of all these people..."

"Small problem? *Small* -- " Selina put her plate down and clapped her hand over her mouth for a moment, before her disbelief could turn into hysteria. "It better be small, Willie. It just better be. Let's go into the smoking room."

They took their plates and cups across the Great Hall and into the smoking room. They left the door open so that they could be clearly seen, and sat down on a pair of overstuffed chairs.

He started at once.

"You told that music hall comic that you were an only child?" Willie asked.

Selina blinked. "Did I?"

"So he told me. Which led him to wonder why I'm being introduced as your brother."

"Oh. Oh, dear. Yes -- yes, I must have said that -- but it was years ago!" She leaned back in her chair, putting plate and cup aside. "We can explain this. He's an actor. We can explain it."

"I tried. Told him I was a black sheep you tried to forget. He didn't really buy it. So... I played on his fondness for you. Which I think is real. Anyway, I didn't admit to a thing. Told him I was trying to watch out for you, like a brother should. That I'd done nothing that would hurt you." He looked at her. "Which you know is true."

She frowned. "It's not the time to discuss that, Willie. But, look... I think we can get away with you not being my brother. Young actresses, they don't get parts if they're married, and certainly not if they -- well, you know -- with their managers. So we started pretending, so that you could keep working on my career. How's that?"

"That's fine, as far as it goes, Seelie. It's just... it gives us a motive for killing Douglas . And if it comes out... whatever his will says? Forget about an inheritance."

"But we didn't kill Douglas !" A terrible suspicion grew in her mind then, and she flattened herself against the chair back. "Willie -- you didn't -- did you?"

His eyes widened. "Of course I didn't! How could you think that?"

"I -- I don't know -- he was a complete beast to me, and you're so impulsive sometimes, Willie -- but no, no, of course you didn't, of course not!"

"Seelie, I swear I didn't. I hated the way he treated you, and... maybe I should have, but... no. Someone else got rid of him for us and I'd like to shake their hand, if it wouldn't get us in more trouble than not."

She turned her mind back to their difficulties. "I don't think it'll come out, Willie, not if it's just Zap."

"You think you can control him, then?"

She shrugged. "He isn't going to want to rat me out, I don't think. Not if he thinks you're doing right by me. "

"I tried to tell him that it was your neck on the line. Maybe exaggerated it a bit. He's fond of you, no two ways about that."

She nodded. "I know he is. And, really, it all hangs together -- by the time Douglas started hanging around me, it would have been far too late to let the truth out."

"I never meant for it to get this... tangled. You know that, right? But if we can just keep our heads, we could end up in a wonderful place."

"Yes, Willie, I know. I -- I'm not looking for a wonderful place right now. I just want out of here. Alive." Her voice sank. "Willie -- if it's one of the islanders, trying to take back the island -- they might want me next."

"We can deal with them. There's a bottom line, you know? A deal to be made. And I know how to do that." He smiled. "Seelie, it's perfect. We have something they want, that we don't. So we make sure they get what they want, and we get... something for it."

"Oh, Willie!" She would not raise her voice, not here, but her exasperation was plain. "Stop it! Right now! You'll get us both killed if you keep on like that."

"I am not going to let anything happen to you," he said firmly. "Everything I'm doing... everything... is to keep us both alive and safe."

"And rich," she shot back, undeceived.

"You don't think being rich is going to keep us alive - and safe - longer? Think what a fraction of what Douglas spent on you would have done for my mother! Think of how much longer she would have lived, how much healthier she would have been!"

Selina sighed, and touched his hand. "I know. I know, Willie. And I'm sorry. But it matters, how we get it, you know? If we mess with people, people mess back. That's how Douglas got where he is -- and I hope he's in hell! I don't want that, Willie. I don't."

He kissed her forehead. "I know. And I'm going to look after you, Seelie. I promise."

"Just -- be nice, Willie. These aren't bad people. If we're nice, they'll be nice back. Maybe nicer than if we try to drive bargains."

"Hey..." He pulled back slightly and gave her a crooked grin. "I've been nice. I've been charming!"

That earned him a glare. "I saw. You better keep off that French wench, Willie!"

"We need to keep her off-balance. And interested in helping us. She may have overheard your comedian friend."

"What? Willie, you -- oo!" Her glare turned even more intense, before she turned her face away. "Oh, all right. I guess it's turn and turn about, considering Douglas . Don't you enjoy it too much, though, or I'll maybe think I need a new manager."

"This isn't about turnabout. This is about keeping our heads above water. I'm a good dancer, Seelie, and so are you, but none of us bargained on murder." She shook her head mutely, her eyes frightened again. "Trust me. You have to trust me. If we turn on each other... we've got nothing."

She searched his face for a long minute; the wariness in her posture gradually faded. "Yes, Willie. Yes, I trust you. Let me talk to Zap, all right?"

He nodded. "I think you should. Just remember... I admitted nothing. Whatever he tells you... that's the real deal."

"Right."

He smiled. "You and I, we're sharp enough to outdance any killer. You're a great actress, and a great gal."

She smiled at him gratefully. "Work to do. C'mon, we have to get back out there." She stood up, collected plate and cup, and went back into the hall. He followed her, and took a place on the wall.

Eversham led his sister in -- and they were still a sedate pair, saying little. Eversham offered to get her a slice of pie and tea, after sitting her down on a sofa, but she declined. The Earl himself went to the fire for a smoke.

"Anyone have any idea how soon we might quit this place?" he said.

"When the storm gives over and we can get a message to the police on the mainland, I suppose," responded Oswald Skeffington-Nottle. "By then we must hope to have a murderer for them ... "

Josette set down her brandy and made her way over to Mary Roberts, "Mrs. Roberts? Mary isn't it? I wonder if you would be so kind as to help me? I left something in the drawing room and...under the circumstances I'd rather not go alone..."

Mary rose, touching her husband's shoulder briefly before turning to the woman before her. "Of course... Under the circumstances, I can't think anyone would want to be alone." She took the woman's arm, and allowed herself to be lead to the drawing room.

Miss Tawney arrived somewhat tardily, having been occupied when the screams occurred and having had to ask one of the servants what had occurred. When she did arrive she was lugging her tape recorder and case, which she deposited in an out-of-the-way corner before helping herself to tea and cake.

Zap noticed her do so, and settled himself with tea and cake where he could watch the room and listen, and most importantly keep an eye on Miss Tawney's tape recorder.

Dr. Campbell approached her. "Miss Tawney, I was wondering if you could play that recording back for us? The one you made of the funeral march at supper last evening?" He requested.

Miss Tawney looked anxious for a moment as Dr. Campbell made his request, but then said, "Mr. MacKenzie's fiddle solos, you mean? Or the piper?"

"The piper, I believe." Campbell answered. "I want to hear what occurred during supper, when the lights went out."

"Ah yes, piping for the," Miss Tawney's sharp nose wrinkled slightly in distaste, "pudding. Not very traditional." She bent over and quickly sorted through the tapes in her case to find the one that was wanted. "Do you wish to play it now?"

"Would you be kind enough to set it up?" Campbell requested. "First, there is something I need to discuss with Professor Marsden."

"Very well." Miss Tawney nodded, then began to thread the requested tape through the machine.

Willie, leaning against the far wall with a second cup of coffee, leaned forward slightly to hear whatever came out of the tape...

There were a couple of other tapes lying near the machine as Mabel Tawney carefully threaded the first - the one that the doctor wished to hear.

It appeared that Miss Tawney had been doing rather a lot of recording ...


 

End of Chapter 12

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