Chapter 7

Eleven pairs of eyes stared back at Mr. McAdoo. His words were clear enough. One was gone. Eleven were left. Mr. McAdoo watched each one for their reaction. He could clearly see that the murder on the heels of the purloined charter unbalanced many of them. Some were slack jawed with disbelief. Others were looking at their fellow detectives with suspicion and mistrust.

"Sir Renville and Lady Renville are expected any minute now. Would any of you like to ask me some questions? I'll answer as best I can." asked Mr. McAdoo.

"Mr. McAdoo, how and when was the body discovered last night?" asked Mr. Lewis.

"It was not exactly last night, Mr. Lewis. Several attempted wake up calls went unanswered this morning. When Mr. Claymore did not attend breakfast, Mrs. Welborn and a bellboy checked on him." Mr. McAdoo informed the group. "We estimate that the death was sometime in the night. Our best guess was sometime between 11pm and 2am."

"How can you be so sure of the time?" Emily Moss asked.

"By the degree of rigor mortis of the body. Seeing that it is breakfast I shall not be graphic. However, a report of the state of the body will be handed out to you upon inspection of Mr. Claymore's room."

"Can you tell us what was the cause of death?" asked Mr. Levinson.

"From what we can surmise, death was by strangulation." said Mr. McAdoo. This bit of news was greeted with silence. Many of the diners had forgotten their breakfasts altogether.

"Was there any other signs of trauma to the body other than the signs of strangulation?" The question was asked in such a clinical and authoritative manner that many eyes were drawn to the questioner - Ms. Stevens. The questioner ignored the looks and kept her concentration on Mr. McAdoo whom she was regarding with intense scrutiny.

To his credit, McAdoo withstood her gaze with aplomb. Had he but known that that same studied regard had often reduced erstwhile confident wizards and witches to reveal their deepest and darkest thoughts perhaps he would not have fared as well.

Ms. Stevens added. "Was there a sign of a struggle?"

"The room is a mess. I can only assume that there was some struggle."

Throughout the questioning, Severus kept a close eye on Ms. Stevens. Ah, the real Ms. Stevens is being revealed. Whether he liked this new revelation he wasn't quite sure yet. But what did pique his curiosity was the almost unholy brightness that made her eyes shine like emeralds in the sunshine. Her face was transformed. She was enjoying all this he could tell. He had labeled her shy at the beach. But now, he was wont to think her reticence masked a natural confidence. Her questioning revealed an incisive mind and if the scene at the beach was any indication a skillful actress. A small voice was raising the alarm in his head. It would not do for him to turn his back on her. That would not do at all. Well, it was time he tested her mettle.

Hermione took a sip of water before proceeding. "Was murder the motive or was it a botched robbery or an argument gone too far?"

"A crime of passion, Ms. Stevens? Hardly." Severus scoffed at her.

"It's a good a motive as any, Mr. Wright." Hermione said.

"A woman could not have strangled a man of Claymore's size and height." said Severus. "Unless they were in the act and even then a knife to the ribs would be easier to accomplish than strangulation or smothering with a pillow, at least for a woman."

"It could have been a man as much as a woman." Hermione shot back at him.

"He was bisexual !?" asked the horrified Ms. Danforth.

"Oh, please, Claymore was so straight he could have given lessons to a ruler. Trust me, I know." Mr. Ironside put in. He had regained his appetite and was finishing his haddock.

"Just how well did you know him, Ironside?" asked Mr. Levinson. "You seemed rather chummy with him at the luncheon."

"We sat at the same table that's all." replied Mr. Ironside. "But, if you're looking for chummy, I suggest you ask Mr. Timmons there. And while we're at it, perhaps, Major Timmons could enlighten us on how well he knows Sir Renville."

That tidbit of information set tongues wagging all around. Many swiveled in their seats to look at Mr. Timmons and await his answer.

"You are not laying this on me, nancy boy. The first time I met Claymore was here." Timmons sneered. "As for how I know Renville that is no one else's business but my own. I will say, however, that I harbor no personal ill will towards him."

"You have no negative feelings towards the man responsible for you being cashiered out of the service?" Severus asked the question dispassionately with the expectation of an emotional answer. He was not disappointed.

Timmons stood up so suddenly that his chair fell to the floor. He leaned on the table and looked daggers at Snape who was sitting just one table away. "You and Ironside are in on this! You're both trying to frame me!"

"Hardly. You have not answered the question."

"What do you want me to say? Anything I say will count against me."

"Then I can only conclude that you are a -"

"Don't say it, Wright!" His face was red and contorted with rage.

"- being less than honest." Severus finished neatly.

"It was a military trial fair and above board. Renville was doing his job being on the judges' panel." Timmons huffed and crossed his arms across his chest. "I have nothing against a man doing his job."

"What were the charges against you?" asked Hermione. She was impressed with Mr. Wright. To her mind, he was slyly slicing away at Mr. Timmons layer by layer allowing Timmons enough rope to hang himself. Perhaps, he was a barrister in real life. Whatever he was, there was more to him than met her eye. She could usually read people at a glance but Mr. Wright was defying description at the moment.

"Unethical conduct befitting an officer. I was supposedly pushing the recruits too harshly during training maneuvers." Timmons admitted. "If you don't push them to the limit, how will they ever know their true capabilities?"

"So, how are you enjoying civilian life?" Severus asked.

"Very well, thank you. If you must know I freelance as a security officer for people of note." Timmons declared almost smugly. "I do not lack for job offers."

Any further questioning was halted as Sir Renville and Lady Renville appeared at the doorway. Seeing Timmons on his feet, Sir Renville made eye contact. Mr. Timmons nodded back. The action was neither friendly nor hostile just a simple acknowledgment of recognition.

Mr. McAdoo also nodded at the Renvilles. "Everyone, please finish your breakfast and gather in the large parlor room. Thank you."

Fifteen minutes later, they were all scattered about the parlor. Some standing, some sitting while others leaned against any available furniture or wall. Sir Renville held their attention standing in the middle of the room. The only visible reminder of his attack was a small gauze bandage affixed to his right forehead.

"One of you is a thief and, more than likely, a murderer. I will not rest until the charter is recovered and the guilty is uncovered you all may be assured of that." Sir Renville's voice was strong and clear. "Whoever did this reprehensible deed will be found and punished."

"Mystery Event Planners in complete agreement with you, Sir Anthony." assured Mr. McAdoo. "How do you propose to go about the questioning?"

"I have a list of questions that I will be asking each person. I must say that I am not duly concerned with the murder here at the hotel, Mr. McAdoo, only what happened at St. Michael's." said Sir Renville.

"I understand completely. I ask that each guest here not interrupt the questioning. If you have a question, please wait and raise your hand. I will then call on you." Mr. McAdoo surveyed all the detectives. "Please proceed, Sir Renville."

"Let me begin with Mrs. Emily Moss." Sir Renville turned to the pair who were seated to his left. "Mrs. Moss, please tell us your actions from the time you left the rooftop to the time that you arrived at the Red Room."

Mrs. Moss sat on the sofa with her notebook on her lap. She folded her hands atop her notebook and was lost in thought for a moment. Her husband had an arm protectively about her. "As I remember, I left the rooftop with John and Paul, I mean, Mr. Lewis. Shortly after we got down the stairs, John went into the Blue Room." Beside her, John Moss nodded his head. "Then Mr. Lewis and I went on past the main staircase. We turned left into the hallway where our assigned rooms were. I went into the Green Room and he to the Yellow Room. I was in the Green Room until I heard Lady Renville's scream."

"Did you pass anyone win the hallway on your way to your room?"

"Yes." Mrs. Moss glanced quickly at Mr. Lewis. "We were just about to turn into the other hallway and we saw Mr. Wright and Mr. Ironside standing by a closed door. I think it was the Study."

"What were Mr. Wright and Mr. Ironside doing?"

"Just standing there talking. They were debating on who should open the door and get in first. I said something like they were wasting valuable time and should stop playing games."

"Did you see them go into the Study?"

"I don't remember," Mrs. Moss paused. "Wait, I didn't see them actually go in because Paul and I had already turned left. I assume that they did."

"The Study is opposite the Library. Did you know that?"

"Yes. I remember from the tour where it was."

"Did you pass anyone else on the way to your assigned room?"

"No. I think Mr. Lewis and I were the first ones in the corridor."

"All right. What did you do in the Green Room?"

"There didn't seem to be anything to do but wait. I found a magazine and read it. After a while, Mr. Levinson came in."

"Do you remember how long you waited?"

"I'd say about ten minutes. I was reading a long article on Ms. Stevens and I was just about finished with it."

At this new information, Ms. Danforth raised her hand. Mr. McAdoo nodded towards her.

From the opposite side of the room, Ms. Danforth asked her question. "What was the article about?"

Mrs. Moss shot an almost apologetic look at Hermione who was seated in a high-backed armchair by the fireplace. Hermione shrugged tacitly accepting Mrs. Moss' silent apology. "The article was about Ms. Stevens' rise to business prominence. There were allegations about the source of her business' funding and how she rose quickly through the ranks at the couture house of Galtierri. Typical gossip, you know, lots of pictures and few real facts."

Hermione was startled but managed to keep her face neutral throughout Mrs. Moss' reply. Hermione knew Ms. Stevens' biography of course. Her opinion of Mystery Event Planners went up a few notches when she realized how authentic and thorough the whole event was becoming.

She remembered the business card of Mr. Wright that was in her possession. Her eyes darted to him. Mr. Wright was seated on a love seat opposite her. He was looking remarkably self composed. But he chanced to look in her direction for a moment. In that moment, Hermione caught his questioning look. She tried to stare back at him but her could not hold his scorching gaze for long. She looked at the next person to ask a question - Mr. Ironside.

"Mrs. Moss, you said that you were alone in the Yellow Room for ten minutes or more." Mr. Ironside continued after Mrs. Moss nodded in agreement. "Well, truth be told, the rooms were not that far away from the rooftop stairs. Wright and I were at the study in less than two minutes. How come it took Levinson, here, so long to get to the Green Room?"

Standing behind Hermione, Mr. Levinson did not wait to be recognized before responding. "I was delayed because I was asking Oswald about directions to the Green Room. I mean the rest of you left the rooftop at a run. I think I was the last one down."

Oswald, standing by the door, confirmed Mr. Levinson's answer. "Aye, he did ask me for directions."

Severus raised his hand and was promptly recognized. He turned to look at the architect. "In all likelihood, you were the last one off the rooftop. Did you see anyone on your way to the Yellow Room?"

Levinson's eyes had a faraway look as his mind drifted back. "Let's see. I walked down the stairs from the roof. I saw Mr. Timmons going into a room on the left. The door said the Blue Room. I got to the main hallway and turned left. I found the Green Room on my left."

"You saw no one else?" Severus asked.

"No, no one." answered Levinson.

"What are you insinuating Wright?" Timmons asked crossly.

Severus said his next words slowly and with some emphasis. "I insinuate nothing. I imply even less."

"Everyone, please stay calm." advised Mr. McAdoo. "Sir Renville, please continue with your questioning."

"Mr. Lewis, please tell us your movements from the time that you left the rooftop."

"Like Emily said we came down the corridor. She went to Green and I to Yellow. A few minutes later I heard Sir Renville and Lady Renville talking in the corridor." said Mr. Lewis. "I didn't intend to overhear. I couldn't help it."

Mr. McAdoo cleared his throat. "Lady Renville could you enlighten the rest of us as to the subject of your conversation with your husband?"

"Well, Anthony and I were discussing one of your guests, Mr. McAdoo." replied Lady Renville.

"Which of my guests?"

"Mr. Timmons."

"I see. What about Mr. Timmons?"

Lady Renville bit her lower lip nervously. "You see, we, rather my husband, knew Mr. Timmons. My husband being a military officer served on a commission panel that tried several military cases some time ago. One of the cases, he passed judgment on was a case against Mr. Timmons. The charge was unethical conduct and the panel found Mr. Timmons guilty. I believe Mr. Timmons was discharged because of that decision."

"Did you recognize Mr. Timmons?"

Sir Renville looked at McAdoo and answered. "No, not at first. He does look different now. It was only after Portia had seen the list of names that she asked me about the name. It was during the tour that I recognized him."

"So, did you worry when you saw his name and recognized him?"

"We were only curious at the coincidence, Mr. McAdoo." said Lady Renville

"Did Mr. Timmons approach either of you?"

"No, not at -." began Sir Renville.

"Yes he did," interjected Lady Renville.

"He did?" McAdoo could not hide the surprise in his voice.

"It was perfectly innocent!" Mr. Timmons protested loudly.

"I was on my way to the lower parlor when Mr. Timmons asked me where the facilities were." said Lady Renville.

"When was this? You never told me." said Sir Renville.

"It was right after you left to go back to the Red Room. I had passed the Yellow and Green rooms and was just about to go down the main staircase." explained Lady Renville. "I actually collided with Mr. Timmons."

"You then gave directions to Mr. Timmons?"

"Yes, Mr. McAdoo." Lady Renville confirmed. "Oh, before I forget. Mr. Maclemore also asked for directions from me. I directed him to the Chevy Chase room."

"So you were not in contact with Mr. Timmons outside of the inquiry in the hallway? Is that right?"

"Yes."

Mr. McAdoo probed further. "Did he at any time allude to the trial to either you or Sir Renville."

Lady Renville shook her head.

"As I said perfectly innocent." Mr. Timmons insisted.

"It is of no consequence now. I'd like to continue questioning Mr. Lewis then." Sir Renville looked at Mr. Lewis. "Please describe any further events while you were in the Yellow Room and until you arrived at the Red Room."

"After I overheard your conversation, I waited and looked through the bookshelves. Then Ms. McFadden came in." replied Mr. Lewis. "I came across a book on the history of Mont St. Michel. I showed it to Ms. McFadden."

"There are several volumes on that topic in that room. Was the book important?"

"Did you know that the book was written by a John Moss?" Mr. Lewis looked at Mr. Moss. "The dedication was made to Emily. I think it's fair to say that the author is the same as the John Moss sitting over there."

"I wrote that so long ago before we got married." said Mr. Moss smiled fondly at his wife before addressing the group. "I did graduate studies at the Sorbonne in Paris. I studied Mont St Michel for my thesis. I do write the occasional book when time permits."

Ms. McFadden standing by the fireplace raised her hand. "Are you now doing research on St. Michael's Mount?"

"No but I would love to." answered Mr. Moss. "I think it has an even richer history than its sister house."

"Mr. Lewis, please continue," said Mr. McAdoo.

"Ms. McFadden and I waited there until we heard Lady Renville's scream. Then we rushed out and went to the Red Room with everyone else."

"Ms. McFadden, please describe your route from the rooftop to the Yellow Room." said Sir Renville.

"I came down the stairs a bit behind the rest." said Ms. McFadden.

"Why is that?"

"I was drawing a map in my notebook." Ms. McFadden raised the notebook up as if to show it to everyone. "I was trying to mark doors and such on it as I went along. I was going slow and people passed me by."

"Who passed you by?"

"I remember Ms. Danforth was quite ahead of me on the stairs. I was near the Blue Room when Bruce went by. Then I turned left down the corridor to the Yellow Room."

"Did you pass by anyone else or see anyone else?"

"No, Sir Renville. None that I can recall."

Sir Renville turned to look at Bruce Maclemore. "Mr. Maclemore, please describe your route from the roof to your assigned room.

"Hmm, I did pass Cynthia. I remember that clearly." Mr. Maclemore rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Then I saw Lady Renville by the staircase and asked her for directions like she said. I went straight down past the Study and went into the Chevy Chase Room which was my assigned room. Ms. Stevens was already there."

"Did you pass anyone else or see anyone else?"

"Well, there was Mr. Timmons. He was walking down the hall past the Study when I approached Lady Renville. He must have been on his way to the facilities like he said." Mr. Maclemore postulated.

"Did either you or Ms. Stevens leave the Chevy Chase Room?"

"No, no. We were too busy looking at the clues."

"Clues?" Mr. Levinson asked eagerly.

"Aye. There was Mr. Wright's business card. Turns out he's a QC, silks and all. Then there was an article about Lewis International nearing bankruptcy and -" Mr. Maclemore answered.

"That article is a blatant lie!" said Mr. Lewis. His eyes flashed and his body rigid with anger. "My firm was in the middle of a restructuring phase. Of course, we had to sell off some assets at a loss. But the company was never in any danger. Who wrote that piece of slander?"

"It was from the Chronicle, Mr. Lewis." Hermione informed the group at large. "The byline was by Adam Claymore."