Martin sat there clutching his quarry. He was still holding the wooden Interregnum puzzle box – it didn’t seem as though he’d put it down since the King had died. The thirteen-year-old was treating it like a comfort blanket.
Jon did not know why the boy had fixated on the box, at least until he said, ‘I got him this.’
The mystery gifter, solved. It was unfortunate that it was no longer the biggest mystery of the day. ‘What a fabulous present, sir.’
Martin nodded. ‘I knew he’d like it. It has Christmas smells inside it, you know?’
Jon smiled. The King had loved the smell of roast potatoes and garlic. ‘Why didn’t you come forward to say that you got this for the King, Martin? Why stay silent?’
The boy was regretful, it was clear to see. After all, the King had died not knowing who had given him his favourite present. ‘I knew he’d solve the puzzle box quickly – he always does. I wanted him to have a bigger puzzle to solve. I would have told him eventually. It was a dumb idea.’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Jon said. ‘I think it was very thoughtful.’
‘Hmmm,’ Martin said, clearly not agreeing.
‘The name of the puzzle – Interregnum – means “between reign,” yes? It’s a little coincidental, don’t you think? We appear to be in a period of interregnum right now?’
Martin’s eyes grew wide. ‘I swear the puzzle came like this. I didn’t do this. I couldn’t kill him. I just thought he would find it funny – he’s always joking about how old he is. So . . . I just . . . ’
‘No, no, no, I know,’ Jon said. The boy was thirteen, but a Royal version of thirteen. That made him younger than his age in some aspects, and older in others. ‘I’m not saying that. I’m just saying it is a bit odd, isn’t it?’ It was a bit odd, and Jon had to admit he’d thought of the mystery gifter and the murderer as a probable culprit. Now though, looking down at the small boy, he saw that was not possible. ‘Let us move on to something else, hmm? Did you see your grandfather this morning?’
‘No,’ Martin said, a little too quickly. He realised what he had done. ‘I mean, not for one of these official private things that the rest of my family got. He grabbed me as I was going past his office after all the audiences, that’s all.’
‘And what did you say?’
‘Happy Christmas.’
Martin sniffed and ran a cuff under his nose. ‘Do you know who did it?’
Jon shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not.’
‘But I’m the last one you’re talking to. And you still don’t know?’
The boy was giving voice to Jon’s exact fear. He really didn’t know. Even after all he’d heard, Jon could not extract an exact motive, an exact cause and effect, to the King’s murder. He saw them all much as he had when he’d first inspected the timetable Maud had drawn up for him. He both saw them all as capable, as well as none of them.
Martin seemed to hear this, although Jon had said none of this aloud. ‘Then what now?’ He was sure the young Prince was not intending to unnerve him, but he had nonetheless. And all he had to do was tell the truth – what now? indeed.
‘I think it was Aunt Emeline,’ Martin said.
‘What? Why would you think that?’
‘I think she’s angry that Matthew’s going to be king. I get why she is. It should be her, right? I heard her last night, in the drawing room with Grandad. She was very angry about something, started threatening that she would expose something. Before I could listen for what though, my dad went into the drawing room and ruined it all. He started talking about his stupid business. Ride+. Total Bust, more like. You know that he’s going bankrupt?’
‘What?’ Martin had intended to shift the focus onto Emeline, but this revelation shifted it to Crockley. ‘Your father just told me how great his business is doing.’
‘Well, he would, wouldn’t he?’
Emeline was angry with the King, holding something over him, and Thomas Crockley was going bankrupt, no doubt in desperate need of money. ‘Maybe you should be the detective instead, Martin.’
‘Just like Enola!’ Martin said.
‘Is there anything,’ Jon said, ‘anything at all, that you saw today, that was suspicious?’
Martin thought but didn’t say anything.
‘I am thinking that maybe you were the most travelled Royal this morning. Were you exploring the castle?’
‘It’s boring around here. Mum didn’t let me bring my PS5. Me and Wilson were just playing around. You know, stupid kid stuff.’
Wilson the cat – Jon hadn’t seen him in a while, same for Churchill. It was easy for them to get consumed by the castle, sometimes disappearing, being left to their own devices for days at a time. He hoped that wherever they were, they were safe.
‘I saw you coming out of the pantry.’
Martin’s eyes grew to saucers.
‘Martin?’
‘Uh . . . yes . . . I suppose . . . ’ The boy seemed to be grasping for some kind of innocent explanation, but it was too late. Jon was highly interested.
‘Did you go to the pantry for a specific reason?’
‘Excuse me.’ They both jumped. Matthew was standing at the study door. Jon did not know how long he had been there. They hadn’t heard the door opening. ‘I’m very sorry for interrupting.’
Martin set his eyes back on Jon and clutched Interregnum hard. His last connection to his grandfather.
‘It’s alright, sir,’ Jon said. ‘We were just finished anyway.’ They were anything but finished, and yet Jon provided a supportive nod to Martin. Martin smiled to him.
Matthew smiled sadly and quickly, and then it was gone. ‘I just . . . Jon, there’s a situation developing in the drawing room.’
‘What is it?’
‘You might need to come and see. Right now.’