Roger wanted Penny; that was obvious to anyone with an eye or an ear. What would he be prepared to do to get her? And then, there was Sylvia. Could she have acquired a taste for the good life, travelling with Diana? Could she be running some scheme to grab some of that good life for herself?
Bringing up the rear, as the least likely suspect and therefore not to be ruled out: Walter himself. Besieged on so many sides. If he decided someone else’s death would make his little world safer and more secure … he was quite capable of ordering any number of things done. Especially if he thought Khan was after his wife … Or could it be that Walter had never really wanted his son to come home? Had there been some terrible, unspoken insult, never forgiven by either side? Could Walter have killed his own son for daring to come home again?
Was that why Jeeves was here? An ex-soldier, maybe even an assassin, posing as a butler; hiding in plain sight? No one else knew him from before … Could Walter have sent the death threats himself, to justify Jeeves’ presence?
Everyone at Belcourt Manor had motives for murder, but none for killing the Colonel. Unless he just … got in the way. No one had expected him to turn up here when they were making their plans. Perhaps someone just saw him as an obstacle to be removed. But the manner of the Colonel’s death still disturbed me. Why saw the man’s head off? There seemed every indication it had been done after he was murdered. There had to be a reason. Sawing a man’s head off is hard work. Takes a fair amount of time, too. The Colonel must have been drugged first, to keep him from fighting back. There was no other way an experienced man like the Colonel could have been taken down … There was no shortage of opportunities for someone to drop a little something into all the food and drink available. The Colonel couldn’t have refused any of the seasonable fair, for fear of raising suspicions.
There was a knock at the door. Solid, authoritative, even peremptory. So I just sat there on the end of my bed, letting them wait, until I finally said, ‘Come in.’ The door swung open immediately, and Alexander Khan strode in, acting like he owned the place and was already thinking of evicting me. I’d thought he’d be my first visitor, given that he was the most likely person to be on his own, because there was no way Melanie was going to leave Walter on his own. Khan closed the door carefully behind him, and then looked quickly round my room, as though he wanted to make sure I hadn’t been given a better room than him. He took his time before he looked at me, and when he did, it was almost defiantly.
‘We need to talk,’ he said.
‘What’s the matter?’ I said. ‘Annoyed you can’t be with Melanie?’
‘That is not what I came here to talk about!’ said Khan.
‘You knew who the Colonel was, knew what he was, from your time at Black Heir,’ I said.
‘I’d heard of the Colonel, of course, but I never knew he was Walter’s son until he turned up here,’ said Khan. ‘I never met him before in my life. But he knew me. He made a point of talking to me, away from everyone else. Told me he knew why I’d had to leave Black Heir.’
‘Because you stole alien technology from their vaults,’ I said. ‘To buy your way into Walter’s company.’
‘I was never a thief!’ said Khan. ‘I was Prometheus, stealing fire from alien gods to give to Humanity! It wasn’t fair for Black Heir to keep all those wonders locked up, benefiting nobody!’ He stopped and looked at me for a moment. ‘How did you know … Did your father tell you?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I never knew him. But I did read the Colonel’s files on everyone here, before I set out.’
I’ve always been able to lie convincingly, without benefit of rehearsal. Part of the job. Part of staying alive.
‘Of course you know,’ said Khan, his shoulders slumping just a little. ‘Everyone knows. Even Black Heir.’
‘They know you stole from them?’
‘Of course! They knew what I was going to do before I did it. They encouraged me … In return, I gave them some of my shares in Walter’s company. Outside money that they could use to fund things they weren’t officially supposed to do. You really think I could have stayed alive all these years, if Black Heir had still wanted my head?’ He stopped again, looked at me squarely. ‘Did you ever work with Black Heir, on any of your missions for the Colonel?’
‘You know I can’t talk about that,’ I said. ‘Why are you still so concerned about Black Heir? You don’t work for them any more.’
‘You’re never really free of them,’ said Khan. ‘Look! This isn’t what I came here to talk about!’
‘So talk,’ I said. ‘Who do you think killed the Colonel?’
‘James was never the target,’ said Khan. ‘Walter was always the real target. I think James just overheard something he wasn’t supposed to, or got in the way.’
‘Spit it out,’ I said. ‘Who do you think wanted Walter dead?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ said Khan. ‘It’s Roger! Has to be Roger. Because he wants Penny, and he thinks she is only turning him down because her Daddy disapproves. Behind that boyish facade, Roger is a very dangerous and single-minded young man.’
I let that accusation hang on the air for a while and considered Khan thoughtfully. ‘Are you sure you’re not just saying that because Roger isn’t going to give you the money you want from him?’ I said finally.
‘You have been keeping your eyes and ears open,’ said Khan. ‘Watch Roger. That’s all I’ve got to say.’
‘And you and Melanie?’ I said. ‘Just good friends?’
‘Can’t stand the woman,’ Khan said briskly. ‘But she is my best way to influence Walter, so … I will do whatever I have to do, to keep the company from going under.’
He turned quickly, hauled the door open and left my room, not quite slamming the door behind him. He’d said rather more than he’d probably meant to, in return for as little as I could give him. A useful enough first conversation. No real surprises, and a few things confirmed.
I sat on the edge of my bed, leaning forward just a bit as I listened to Khan walk quickly back down the corridor to his room. He didn’t stop along the way, to talk to anyone else. I heard his door shut. There was a pause, and then I heard more footsteps, moving slowly and steadily up and down the corridor. Which was odd, because I hadn’t heard a door open. The footsteps went this way and that, stopping at one door after another, but no one knocked, or opened a door. And then the footsteps just … stopped. I couldn’t hear anything. I got up off the bed and moved quietly over to my door. I opened it slowly, not making a breath of sound, and looked out into the corridor. There was no one there. The whole length of the corridor was completely empty. Someone had walked up and down and then just … disappeared. I sniffed at the air and couldn’t smell anything. Which was odd. I closed my door and went back to sit on my bed.
I’d barely had time to settle down and start thinking again, when I heard new footsteps approach my door. There was a quick, impatient knock, and then the door flew open before I even had a chance to invite anyone in. Penny came tripping into my room, beaming happily, only just remembering to shut the door behind her. I started to get up, and she immediately waved for me to sit down again. So I did.
Penny paced restlessly back and forth before me, speaking so impatiently that the words all but tumbled over each other. She had a lot she wanted to say. ‘I waited as long as I could!’ she said. ‘But I just had to come and talk to you! Isn’t this exciting? I mean; an actual murder! And terribly sad, of course, because your friend is dead, after all. Don’t think I don’t feel that, because I do, but … This is just the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me! So; I’m just bursting with theories and suspicions, and I had to talk to someone about them, and you’re the only one here who isn’t a suspect.’
‘You couldn’t talk to Roger?’ I said, just to make a point.
‘Don’t be silly, darling. Roger has many good qualities, though I’d never tell him that to his face, but a fully functioning brain isn’t one of them. If he ever needs anything difficult or distasteful doing, he has people to do that for him. And as for spotting a murderer, unless the killer was wearing a black and white striped jersey, a black domino mask, and a hat with Killer! written on it, Roger wouldn’t recognize him.’