I felt stupid. Beyond stupid. I didn’t understand why I hadn’t mentioned the secret room to the police. It wasn’t that I was trying to keep the secret.
“You were upset,” Birk said. “No one else mentioned it to them, and we all knew about it. She showed us all.”
“But Edwin and I were there the moment she was taken. No one else understood the circumstances.”
Brigid and I had climbed into Birk’s car. We followed Inspector Winters toward Shelagh’s estate. The police inspectors in charge of the case were going to meet us there.
It felt like we were moving in slow motion. I wanted to be inside that library, opening that secret door, and finding Shelagh. I just knew that’s where she was. It was the only thing that made sense. It was the only way there could’ve been no trace of her leaving, other than the bloody handprint. Why the timing had been so swift.
“Now I wonder about the handprint,” I said. “As I look back on it, it seems weirdly unreal, like it was drawn there or blotted perfectly. There were no smudges to it. I didn’t process that until right now.”
“But it was blood, Delaney. It came from someone,” Brigid said.
“Was it really, though?”
“We’ll see.”
When we finally got there, Birk parked his car next to Inspector Winters’s, whom we followed inside to the library. The other officers were already there, waiting unhappily.
I walked around everyone toward the shelves in the back of the room. I found the right book immediately and pushed on it. The door clicked and swung open. The police inspectors moved me out of the way as they entered, but I followed them into the small space. Brigid craned her neck to look from the entry.
Perhaps the biggest surprise of the day was that Shelagh wasn’t there. No one was. However, there was clear evidence that someone had been. Things were in there that Shelagh wouldn’t have allowed: an empty water bottle and discarded biscuit wrappers littered the floor. There was no obvious blood, but someone had been inside this space, drinking water and eating cookies. It could have been anyone who knew about the room and had access to her house.
I held tight to the fact that there was no sign that anyone had been hurt, no visible blood.
“She could have done this herself,” one of the inspectors said.
“Or maybe not,” Inspector Winters said.
A voice sounded from the outer room of the library.
“Qu’est-ce que c’est?”
“Jacques,” I said as I looked at Inspector Winters.
We all exited the secret room and saw Jacques. He was dressed in jeans and a sweater, but he looked unkempt, as if he’d just awakened.
“What’s going on?” Jacques swept his bed-head hair back with his hand. “Did you all just let yourselves in?”
“We need to talk to you in a minute,” one of the official inspectors said. “Everyone wait right outside the door, except for Ms. Nichols.” He looked at me. “We’d like a word with you first. Please sit over there.”
I was told to call them Boyd and Harris, and they were mightily suspicious of me, even after I told them I was the one who’d brought the secret room to light. They thought my timing of doing such a noble thing, when no one was inside it anymore, seemed odd. It was hard to blame them; it was their job to be suspicious of everyone.
“We’d like to know when exactly Shelagh O’Conner showed you the room,” Boyd said, his mouth in a serious, inquisitorial line.
I told them the details. I told them I thought the other participants in the hunt had seen it too, including Jacques. They told me they’d talk to Jacques, as well as Birk and Tricia, all about it, but I couldn’t stop kicking myself. How had I not remembered the room until now?
“Can you explain why you didn’t mention this room to us before?” Boyd asked.
I sighed. “I really don’t know. I can only chalk it up to the trauma or something, but I didn’t even think about that room until today, probably because I saw a book that was kept in there. You know about the treasure hunt?”
“We do,” Boyd said.
“We’ve found the prize.” I nodded toward the hallway. “My friend Birk has it. Seeing it must have made me remember the room, because that’s where Shelagh said the book had been kept. She told me it was a secret room. Maybe my subconscious decided to keep the secret.”
As explanations went, it was pretty weak, but it was the best I could do.
They stared at me a long moment, hoping I’d say more. I thought about calling my attorney, but I really just wanted them to find Shelagh and solve the murder of Ritchie John. I’d answer whatever questions they asked even if I made myself look bad—though hopefully not guilty—along the way.
“Do you think she staged it?” I asked them.
They weren’t there to answer my questions.
“Tell us about your relationship with Ms. O’Conner,” Boyd said.
“There wasn’t one. I’d just met her.”
After a few more times of being asked the same sorts of questions, I decided that the police truly didn’t think I’d done anything criminal. I wished I could eavesdrop on their conversation with Jacques, but it wasn’t to be. They dismissed me and motioned me to leave the room, then asked Jacques to join them.
However, I turned around and walked back to them.
“Do you know for sure the handprint was blood?” I asked.
They looked at me but still weren’t in the mood to answer any of my questions.
“I mean, maybe double-check if you haven’t determined that yet. And maybe it wasn’t Shelagh’s. Just saying,” I added, because I couldn’t help myself.
“Thank you, Ms. Nichols. You may go now,” Boyd said.
Other than Jacques, no one had waited in the hallway, but I was glad to see that Brigid, Birk, and Inspector Winters were out front. It was cold outside but the sky was bright blue, currently not a cloud in sight.
“Glad they didn’t arrest you.” Brigid bounced herself away from Birk’s car.
I shook my head. “I think they just wanted a little clarification.”
“Makes sense,” Inspector Winters said.
I looked at the house and then back at Inspector Winters. “Do you think this will help find Shelagh or Ritchie’s killer?”
“I don’t know, Delaney. I hope so. The other inspectors spoke to me briefly. I also told them about the charity event.”
“Happy to welcome them to my stables,” Birk said.
“What will you do with the book?” Inspector Winters asked me.
“Birk is going to put it in his safe,” I said.
“I am,” Birk added. “However, I will make it available to the police if they want it.”
“Aye.”
Brigid moved to my side. “Now what?”
“They’ll want to talk to Birk, but I’m going back to the bookshop.”
“I’ll take you,” Inspector Winters said.
“I’ll get to work too,” Brigid said.
“I’ll take you too.”
Before we left Birk, though, Inspector Winters faced us all. “Be careful, everyone. I mean it, maybe more than I ever have. Remember, the Monster hasn’t been caught. The killer hasn’t been caught. I have no idea if all this is tied together, but each of you is a part of … something, and now you have a priceless book in your possession.”
“I’ll give it to the inspectors if you think that would be better,” Birk said.
“Ask them. But, again I want you all to be careful.”
We nodded and assured him we would.