“Not all of us,” I said. “It may be a business of lepers, but I’ve still got most of my fingers.”
“You said you knew what had happened,” she said, ignoring my humor. Most women, royal or not, did that.
“It’s not complicated. Someone wanted to kill Thomas Gillian in a very public way, which meant they had a point to make. Since you provided the murder weapon, that point may also have involved making you look bad. The victim got in the middle of it by sheer dumb luck.”
“Surely you don’t think I had anything to do with it.” It was the obligatory denial, and she was a good enough performer that it sounded genuine. Which it might have been.
“I try not to think anything,” I said. “I let the evidence think for me. Right now the evidence leads us to you. Hopefully it’ll lead us further.”
“And what ‘evidence’ might that be?”
I nodded toward the tray of apples, in plain sight on the sideboard. “The murder weapon. He wasn’t killed with a sword or knife. Mind if I look them over?”
“Certainly.”
I went to the tray. In the time she’d been alone with the apples, she could’ve done anything to them, including replace them all. But it didn’t mean an examination would tell me nothing.
I picked up a knife from a nearby place setting. Immediately Kay stiffened and moved closer. I realized he was getting into position to protect the queen and gave him a wry smile.
Unable to grasp the knife in my puffy right hand, I used my left to awkwardly turn several of the apples. I looked for any discoloration that might show where the poison had been added. I found none. The killer apparently trusted that blind luck would have Gillian pick up the lone poisoned apple. “Are they all here?” I asked.
“As far as I know.” She indicated herself and her maids. “We certainly haven’t eaten any of them.”
“Are these apples special?”
“In what way?”
“Can you find others like them anywhere besides the royal orchard?”
Surprised, she said, “I suppose one could. I’m no gardener, but I’m not aware that they’re any rare variety.”
I leaned down and sniffed. The same aroma I’d smelled from the late Sir Patrice was barely present. I looked more closely at the nearest apple and at last found what I sought: a tiny bump, easily missed, on the bottom near the calyx indention. I picked up the fruit with a napkin and said, “Look at this.”
When Jennifer started to move, Kay stepped in front of her and said, “Hand me the knife first.”
I did. Then Kay and Jennifer crowded close. “What is it?” Kay asked.
I transferred the fruit to the palm of my injured hand and tapped the bump with my fingernail. It fell off and revealed a hole no larger in diameter than a sewing needle. “A bit of wax to seal the hole. Do you still have the one that killed Patrice on you?”
Kay nodded and produced it, still wrapped in my handkerchief. I quickly found an identical wax seal in the same spot. “That’s where the poison was injected into them, and then sealed.”
Jennifer looked at me with either admiration or wariness; it was hard to tell. “So every apple was poisoned this way?”
“Let’s see.” Now that I knew what I sought, it only took moments to inspect them all. Roughly half of them were poisoned, and piled so that the lethal ones were on top.
Her breathtaking face creased with confusion. “But Mr. LaCrosse, they were with me the whole time. This could not have been done quickly; when would the killer have had an opportunity?”
I shrugged. “We’ll know that when we catch him. Or her.”
“I don’t care for your manner, sir,” the queen snapped.
“Neither do I. I grieve over it on warm summer evenings. But may I give you some advice? No one’s accused you of anything yet, and when you jump at every innuendo, it just makes you look guilty. You might want to put on a thicker skin until we get this straightened out.”
Her eyes opened wide, then narrowed, and the contempt that shot from them was enough to wither a cornfield. I understood Kay’s reluctance to confront her. She straightened her back and raised her chin, which made her seem far taller than she was. With regal disdain she told Kay, “I would appreciate it if you’d show this person out of my chambers.”
I pocketed Patrice’s apple. “I apologize if candor offends you, Your Majesty. If you think of anything that might help us, I hope your low opinion of me won’t make you keep it to yourself.” I made another perfect courtly bow. By the time I rose, Rebecca had scurried across the room and again held the door for us.
Halfway down the stairs to the main hall, Kay stopped, leaned against the stone wall, and sighed. He put away the dagger, then unlocked the disk to release the big loop of slack. “At least our heads are still attached. Thank you for not mentioning Elliot.”
“No promises the next time.” I raised my hands and extended the cuffs.
He shook his head. “No. Not yet.”
The manacles had me both angry and a touch claustrophobic. “Come on, you saw the other apples. I couldn’t have poisoned them, too.”
“‘Too’? Are you admitting you poisoned the first one?” he teased.
“Stop that. You know I didn’t do it. Now get these things off me.”
“It’s for your own good, Eddie, seriously. If you’re seen without those before we find the real killer, the folks who think you’re guilty may decide to dispense their own justice.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I said, adding in my head, and I won’t let the drawbridge hit me on my way out.
“Not with that, you won’t.” He nodded at my injured hand. I could neither straighten nor curl my fingers now, and my knuckles were hidden under puffy, darkening skin. “Guess Iris was right. That’ll sure hurt by tonight.”
I couldn’t argue; it sure hurt right now. “All right, so I’m still your prisoner. So tell me: how much can we trust what Queen Jennifer told us?”
“I’ve never known her to lie.”
“You’ve never known her to murder anyone before, either.”
He chuckled deep in his chest. “If you’re going to suspect everyone even after you’ve questioned them, how are we going to make any progress? I’d like to solve this before we’re both too old to enjoy it.”
Yet again I wanted to smack him, but under the circumstances it still seemed like a bad move. So I took a deep breath, calmed down, and said, “Okay, you’re right, I don’t really think she had anything to do with it, but I do think she knows more than she’s telling. But keeping secrets isn’t a crime.”
When we hit the banquet room again, it was worse than before. As soon as they saw me, the guests’ murmuring escalated to shouts and catcalls. One of the courtiers, a white-haired fellow with eyebrows like caterpillars, bellowed, “Sir Robert, I demand you speak with us!”
“Great,” Kay muttered. “You stay here,” he told me, and strode over to the man. “Yes, Lord Shortridge, what can I do for you?”
“You can let us out of here for one thing. It’s past sunset, and I for one did not come prepared for an overnight stay. Why, I don’t even have the proper toiletries for my skin.” Then he pointed a long finger at me. “And we all know he’s the murderer, yet you keep him leashed at your side as if he were your favorite foxhound!”
The nobles chimed in with their agreement. Across the room, Gillian still watched me with his cold, implacable eyes. Agravaine was nowhere to be seen.
“I’m glad you’re all so sure of things,” Kay said. “But as long as Marcus Drake rules Grand Bruan, we’ll approach this based on the law of the land. That law says a man must be assumed innocent until proven guilty.” He looked disdainfully at the glass in Shortridge’s hand. “And I don’t think that proof will be found in the bottom of a wine bottle.”
“You’re using the king’s law to protect a killer!” someone cried.
“Queen Jennifer can render justice in this case,” Shortridge said. “She has the royal rank, and the full support of the nobles.” The crowd chimed in its agreement. “We demand you convene a trial, followed by that man’s execution.”