"You are so kind to come along with me," Josette gushed as they entered the room. "I'm sure it's here somewhere...a silver compact...could you help me look?"

"Certainly..." Mary disengaged herself, a look of determination settling over her face. She glanced about for likely hidey holes...

Josette looked about here and there, "Perhaps in the couch..." she suggested to Mary.

Mary nodded, moving to the sofa, pulling up the cushions with the efficiency of a practiced housewife. "It's your compact? How did you lose it?"

The moment Mary seemed occupied with the search, Josette backed silently out of the room, the only answer to her questions being the sound of a 'click' as Josette locked the door!

Mary whirled, her eyes widening. The cushion falling with softly back to the couch. She ran, her hands falling on the doorknob and twisting.

"Oh dear!" Josette cried through the door as she tugged from the other side. "Don't worry! I'll have someone fetch a key!" she assured Mary, the sound of her heels clicking a hasty retreat down the hall.

"Wait!" Mary's eyes went down to the doorknob. What side was the lock on?

The key was, it appeared, on the other side.

"Sugar cubes!" Mary cursed, slamming her hand against the door. She turned, surveying the room for any windows.

There were windows - and the drop outside was perhaps ten feet - into a howling blizzard.

Mary bit her lip, then ran back to the door. "Andrew! Andrew!" She beat her fists upon the door, then stood back again. She bent, peering at the doorknob. Was there =anything= on this side of the knob?

Nothing at all - and the fact that she could see clearly through the lock and into the hall suggested that Josette had taken the precaution of removing the key.

Her hand rose to her hair, plucking out a hairpin. True, she'd never done it, asides from when she'd accidentally locked the linens cabinet, but it was worth a try. She straightened it out, and began to work at the lock, still shouting out a call for her nephew or husband here and there.

Selina and Willie returned to the Great Hall mere minutes after they retired into the smoking room. Selina laid her cup and plate on a tray, and took a circuitous route around the room (exchanging politenesses with various people as she walked) until she came to Zap. "Willie says I ought to come say hello to you," she said, with the ghost of her accustomed bright and beautiful smile. "Maybe we can go sit somewhere and talk for a few minutes? Like old times?"

"Possibly a little later?" Zap inquired. He was determined that nothing was going to happen to that tape recorder until its owner took it back into her custody.

"Well, I don't know when we'll have another chance... and I don't want to upset Willie..." Selina didn't pout, but she looked as if she wanted to.

Zap looked at her thoughtfully. "Of course you wouldn't want to upset Willie," he said quietly. "Who's just instructed you to lie to me, Selina. Whatever he is to you...whoever he is...I don't suppose I'll ever find out. But I know what you told me that night. And I know you weren't lying =then.="

Selina flinched. "If you're not going to believe anything I say," she said, very quietly indeed, her head hanging, "then you might as well go ahead and tell everybody. You'll ruin me, but I guess you don't care. "

Zap flinched as though she had slapped him. "That isn't my way and you know it. If I wanted to ruin you I'd have done it already."

"Well, then, listen to me, won't you? Please?"

"You're right," she went on. "I wasn't lying then. And if you'd just *think* about it -- think about the road, think about what's out there -- you'd know what's going on, and you wouldn't *want* to hurt me any more."

She took two steps away, and then turned back. "I'll be in the smoking room," she said aloud, "if you want to come chat. I did miss you, Zap dear."

=And I you, Selina. But I don't know who you are any more....if I ever did.=

She went back into the smoking room without speaking to anyone or so much as exchanging a glance with Will. As before, she left the door wide open.

Dr. Campbell approached to Professor Marsden. "We still need to speak with Miss Belleseur about her eavesdropping." He reminded her. "If she overheard anything she shouldna have, it might prove dangerous - for her." He added quietly.

"True," Dr. Marsden said. "Let's sit her down after this gathering and ask her," she said, emphasizing the word ask. "I'd rather not confront her in front of everyone. She'd be more likely to refuse," she told Dr. Campbell.

"Now might be an opportune time." Campbell nodded in the direction as Josette and Mary left the Great Hall.

Dr. Marsden frowned, then nodded. "Very well," she said standing, giving the warm fire a wistful look. "Shall we follow them?"

"Yes, I think so." He nodded.

Dr. Marsden glanced around the Great Hall, seeing who was where, and then proceeded to follow Mary and Josette from the Hall, Dr. Campbell accompanying her.

As David and Patience stood together, near the door, they seemed to hear a muffled banging coming from down the corridor - and a female voice calling. No-one else was close enough to hear this.

"Someone is in trouble!" David said to Patience. He couldn't move fast ... but the sounds of distress were unmistakable. Equally, so, he couldn't ignore it.

He left it to his patient and quietly strong wife if she would wait, or follow him down the corridor.

Patience squeezed his hand. "Watch me, to be certain I don't get into trouble, and I'll go on ahead. Follow quick as you can." She kissed him on the cheek and moved ahead, as fast as she could and still stay in sight, to find the source of the sound.

The sound seemed to be coming from the drawing room door ...

The shouts were coming from a shaking doorknob. "Andrew!" Jiggle. Jiggle. "Andrew! Anyone!"

Patience called out once she reached the door, pitching her voice high enough to be heard, but low enough not to carry to whoever might have locked her in there. "Hello! It's Patience here... hold on one moment and I'll get you out of there."

Since the handle was jiggling, and not opening, Patience assumed it was locked. Still, she reached out to try the door herself, twisting the handle sharply.

Nothing happened.

David followed after Patience. His slow gait meant that the Missionary's wife had a fair opportunity to work on the door before he arrived on the scene.

There was no key in the lock, and no apparent means opening the door, short of breaking it down by force.

Garreth looked first for Colin. "There's something we need to speak about, privately," he said when the former Laird entered.

Colin looked at him searchingly, and then nodded. "Let's make it the smoking ... no, someone seems to be in there. Let's go through to the estate office at the end. Quinn - could you gather people together? We seem to be missing a few of our guests. Davis - if you could make sure the staff know what's going on, and are getting organised to speak to us? Then come back here."

"I'll see what I can do, Sir Colin," said Adrian .

Adrian crossed the room to the assemblage of people. In trying to take a quick head count, he lost track twice, with everybody moving around. Finally, he gave up. " St. Pierre , do you know who's missing? And, do you know where they went? Sir Colin wants everybody back here, I think."

"The Rector's wife and Miss Beleseur went off together for some girl talk, I think. Selina's in the smoking room. The Bannisters went off, too. I really don't know where... No one went off on their own, though. I think everyone is following the program."

"Well and good as that may be," said Adrian , "I still think we should try to reassemble people in here. Let's go escort Selina back, and then go looking for the others."

Josette rushed from the drawing room, up the front stair well and to Selina's room. Breathless, she glanced quickly up and down the corridor before slipping inside.

Selina's room was elaborately furnished and decorated. Her jewelry box was also locked, but less aggressively than Josette's. It had glassed-in front doors, so Josette could see inside it. Her makeup case was not locked, and contained various sorts of variously sharp and poisonous things; she probably used a rather harsh skin-bleaching solution to get the wine and the yew-juice off her hands. Her lace gloves from the night before were on the washstand in her bathroom. They were black lace and smelled strongly of soap.

Josette looked in the case, specifically looking for a wedding ring...

There was none - although there were three small ring drawers at the back where one might be hidden. But she would need the key - or else to smash the case.

There was a messy pile of old playbills, sheet music, letters, and newspaper clippings in a drawer on her writing desk, half pilling out. These seemed to contain several hand written letters.

The majority had American postmarks. There was a small bundle, tied up with a red ribbon, that all bore a New York postmark. These all bore the name Selina St Pierre - with the St Pierre crossed out and MacKenzie-Brown written in a firm (and different) hand.

It wasn't from Will at all. It was from a chorus girl they had both known in 'Take It From Here'. A girl called Mavis Tremaine - and the first letter Josette looked at made it clear that Mavis was blackmailing Selina.

"So how are you, dearest, and your lovely new husband? I hear he is rolling in it - well, perhaps you wouldn't mind helping out an old friend who is down on her luck at the moment, but always a good friend to you and your Willie."

Other letters were couched in the same vein.

Josette carelessly returned the letters to their place, then decided to risk another moment to glance over the newspaper clippings.

These were all standard review clips. If there was anything more incriminating, it was very well-hidden.

Josette stomped her foot in frustration, glancing over at the jewlery casket, no, there simply wouldn't be time...but later though...later...

Pulling the door ajar she looked and listened to see if the corridor was clear...

As they arranged the chairs, Brian turned to his Uncle, "I'm afraid that I have been very wicked. I hoped for someone to die, and they did, but the reason I hoped he was dead wasn't a real reason as he wasn't really dead, but I hoped it, so I'm bad. I am sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't really want anyone to die...if he was ok, after all."

The Rector laid a hand on his nephew's curls (a gesture Brian might well usually resent).

"I must admit, Brian, I had uncharitable thoughts about him too last night," he said quietly. "It was wrong of you to bring your rat here, and even more wrong of you to let him escape. However, I thought the Laird's reaction was ... disproportionate. I fear Mr Barfard paid a heavy price for your actions.

"Now - while you were wandering the Castle looking for Mr Barfard, did you see anything that we should know about?"

 

End of Chapter 13

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