Chapter 8

Paul Lewis was an experienced executive used to dealing with the ups and downs of the business world. Standing in the parlor, he could have been an icon for the British upper class with his elegant tailored clothes complimenting his silvery hair, lean frame and sharp, angular features. One could say that he had an interesting face but certainly not a handsome one. His droopy lips and weak chin added to his generally dour facial expression. But his face was exempted from any further insignificance by his eyes. They were blue with a deceptively mild outlook.

The others looked at him expectantly. As they waited, he berated himself mentally for losing his temper. Something he had not done in nearly a decade. The implication was more than clear. He had a good, if not great, motive to want Adam Claymore silenced one way or another. Well, he thought, you have extricated yourself out of worse situations than this before. Pretend you're in front of a board of inquiry and turn on the charm. His face was then transformed. His eyes sparked with a measured intensity. He was the hunting hawk readying for flight as the hunter and never the prey.

"I know what you're all thinking. I can see it in your eyes." Lewis adopted a conciliatory tone. He looked at all of them making certain of direct eye contact with each one. "When that article came out, my company was very vulnerable, very, very vulnerable. Admittedly, I might have wished Claymore dead when first he wrote it. I'm sure I wasn't the only one. My company was not having financial problems to the degree reported. I truly believe that whoever his source was at the time gave him bad information. Once the true financial picture became known, we recovered very easily."

"Your company surely received some negative publicity. It was very bad timing." Levinson noted.

Lewis visibly relaxed his stance. "Of course, bad publicity is never good. Bad publicity during unfortunate times can be fatal. But, again, we sailed through it all. Sails at full all the way."

Emily Moss raised her hand. Mr. McAdoo nodded at her. "Did you recognize his face or his name?"

" I did not know he would be here. I have never met him face to face but I did remember his name," Lewis answered. "He was a reporter and I assumed he was one and the same person."

"Once ye were here, did ye ever speak with the, um, deceased?" asked Mr. Maclemore.

"No. Besides, I arrived just as the bus was leaving. You all should remember that," replied Lewis. "Was I not asleep on the bus, Mr. Wright?"

"Were you?" Severus arched a brow and stared back at Lewis.

Lewis was the first to blink. "Yes, I was asleep the whole time."

"I remember you were delayed. What kept you?" Timmons asked.

"That should be obvious now that you know my background." Lewis answered. "I had some last minute things to deal with. This IS supposed to be my vacation."

"We are running over schedule, ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Claymore's room still needs to be investigated." Mr. McAdoo informed them. "Please, let us allow Sir Renville to ask his questions. You will all have ample time to ask your questions after the room investigation. Sir Renville, please continue."

"Thank you, Mr. McAdoo." Sir Renville paused and read his list. Then he turned to Hermione. "Ms. Stevens, please describe to us your activities from the time you left the rooftop and going forward from there."

"I was one of the first to leave the roof," Hermione began. She crossed her legs at the ankles and sat up straight. Her gaze never left Sir Renville. "Beside me on the stairs were Mr. Ironside, Mr. Wright and Mr. Claymore. I passed straight down the hallway past the main stairs, the Library and the Study. My assigned room was the Chevy Chase room and I went in there."

"Did you see anyone in the hallways? Pass anyone?" Sir Renville asked.

"No. Definitely not."

"Did you notice if the Library door was open or closed?"

Hermione bit her lower lip in concentration. "Open. Yes, it was open wide and -"

"How can you be so sure the door was open? I could never remember something like that." Ms. Danforth interrupted in her best breathy girlish voice.

"I pay attention to details, Ms. Danforth. That IS why we are all here, isn't it?" Hermione replied coolly. "It's not hard to keep one's mind on what's important."

Ms. Danforth sniffed loudly dismissing Hermione's answer. "Dear girl, is THAT what you were doing on the bus?"

Hermione could not take back the sharp glare she sent towards the odious Ms. Danforth. She could only hope to impale the wretched woman on it permanently. "You are so very observant, Ms. Danforth. I'm sure you noticed how much I enjoyed the trip. The company was delightful I assure you." She flashed several bone-melting smiles towards Levinson and Timmons. "As I was saying, the door to the Library was open."

"What did you do once you were in your assigned room?" Sir Renville continued his questioning.

"I came in and looked around. The wall frieze is fascinating, Sir Renville. I found the business card and news article on the table." Hermione said. "I was reading them when Mr. Maclemore arrived."

"Do you confirm Mr. Maclemore's statement that you were both in the room the whole time?"

"Yes. We stayed and discussed the clues for a while. Then we heard Lady Renville's scream. We both left the room and headed for the Red Room."

Severus watched Ms. Stevens under hooded eyes. The woman was fascinating! Before his eyes, she alternated personas - demure, sophisticated, caustic, shrewd, flirtatious, calculating. Ms. Stevens was turning out to be quite a mystery herself. One thing he was certain of - she was not speaking in her normal tone of voice or manner of voice. The differences in her personas made that obvious. Plus, she was young, perhaps mid twenties. Her skin had the glowing tautness of youth that no form of cosmetic miracles or magical charms could emulate. Now, she would never make a boring wife would she asked his little voice. He ignored it as best he could but it was only a halfhearted effort.

"Very well, thank you, Ms. Stevens." Sir Renville consulted his list once more. "Mr. Moss, I do apologize. I did not mean to skip you. Please tell us your movements from the time you left the rooftop and forwards from there."

John Moss looked pensive. "I'm afraid I'm not going to be much help. My assignment was the Blue Room which is almost at the foot of the rooftop stairs. I came down with my wife and Paul. They went ahead to their room while I ducked into my room."

"What did you do once you were in the Blue Room, was it?"

"Yes, the Blue Room. I was tired from all the walking and the bus trip. I have a slight heart condition you see. I tire very easily these days." Mr. Moss squeezed his wife's hand. She patted him on the arm in encouragement and support. In truth, Mr. Moss had the pallor of someone recovering from a long illness. Under his salt and pepper hair, his face was wan and grave. Were he of average height, his thin frame would have seemed average. But Mr. Moss was over six feet. His height only exaggerated his gaunt appearance. His voice, on the other hand, was firm and strong. "There was a sofa in the room. A bit short for me but comfortable. I laid down and closed my eyes for a few minutes. The next thing I remember was hearing Lady Renville."

"After you heard my wife what did you do?"

"It was like waking up after someone had dumped water on your face. I was wide awake." Mr. Moss explained. "Mr. Timmons and I left the Blue Room -"

"Together?" Severus asked loudly.

"Yes. In fact, Mr. Timmons opened the door and I went out first."

"Please continue, Mr. Moss." said Mr. McAdoo.

"We kind of stood there looking as the others spilled into the hallway. We were all trying to figure out where the screaming was coming from."

"Could you tell who was in the hallway with you?" Sir Renville peered closely at Mr. Moss.

"Besides me and Mr. Timmons, I remember seeing Mr. Ironside, Mr. Maclemore, Ms. Stevens and Mr. Wright walking by. And Emily was standing outside her room waiting for me."

"Do you remember anyone else?"

"Not distinctly, no. The rest of them were probably close to the Red Room already." Mr. Moss said. "I think my room was the farthest from the Red Room."

"What did you do then?"

"I and Mr. Timmons went towards Emily." Mr. Moss smiled at his wife. "Mr. Timmons went a bit ahead of us. Then we were all there in the Red Room with you, sir, on the floor."

"We now come to you, Mr. Timmons. Please describe your movements from the time that you left the rooftop."

"All right." Mr. Timmons brought himself to absolute attention. "You lot already know most of it. I left the room and passed by the Blue Room. One could hardly miss it. Since Mr. McAdoo indicated we had about ten minutes I thought to go to the gentlemen's room. I went through a few hallways but I couldn't find it. Somehow I found myself by the main staircase. Fortunately, Lady Renville was there and I asked directions."

"Hard to believe a military man would lose his bearings so easily." murmured Mr. Ironside. While he did not shout the statement, he did not whisper it either.

"If you don't know what you're talking about, I suggest you shut your trap." Timmons said sharply. " I wasn't paying careful enough attention during the tour. After a while all the hallways look alike. But you obviously know your way around quite well, Ironside. The Study is just opposite the Library isn't it?

Sir Renville cleared his throat. "After you spoke with Lady Renville, what did you do?"

Timmons let out a long sigh. "I came back from the gentlemen's and went straight to the Blue Room."

"Yes, Mr. Levinson mentioned seeing you enter the room. Thank you, Mr. Timmons." said Sir Renville. "Now -"

"Wait, I'd like to know what Mr. Timmons was so preoccupied with that he lost his way." said Hermione.

"Well, Diana, when we were on the bus, I'm sure you remember me saying something about a big contract that I had just landed. I was lost in planning the details in my head." Timmons answered. "I know this is supposed to be my vacation but business always comes first."

"Hmm. I suppose." Hermione tried to remember exactly what Timmons had been prattling on about on the bus. Unfortunately, her thoughts during that time were on Mr. Wright and how his arching eyebrow reminded her of someone in her distant past.

"I think we'll have your answers next, Mr. Ironside." Sir Renville announced.

"What was my route?" Ironside began his version of events. "We, Wright and I, followed Ms. Stevens down the stairs. We quickly got to the Study. Mrs. Moss saw us joking around by the door. I opened the door and went in first then Wright. We closed the door and looked around. We, I mean I, found the scrapbook of your time on the military panel, Sir Renville. The same panel that served as judge over Mr. Timmon's trial. That and the bit about Wright's lawsuit against you."

Ironside aimed a playful smirk towards Mr. Wright who shook his head ruefully. There were audible gasps in the room. Timmons was practically quivering in anticipation. Sir Renville looked quizzically at his wife then at Mr. Wright. "If you please, Mr. Wright. What lawsuit?"

"About a year ago, I represented a client who worked at a company in which you had a sizable investment." Severus rose up to his full height and addressed the room. "My client was terminated without cause. We brought suit against said company. In the best interest of all parties, we settled out of court."

"Who was your client?" asked Timmons.

"I am not in a position to reveal that information."

"Convenient."

"It is not relevant to this."

"Did you know the Renvilles personally?" This came from Mr. Lewis.

"No. To me they are only names on a list long forgotten." Severus lifted his chin and fairly dared anyone to contradict him.

"How is she, your client, now?" asked Ms. Stevens. "Was the settlement to her liking?"

Severus moved towards her and looked down at her. "My client is content."

"Complete-ly?" Hermione cocked an eyebrow up at him returning Severus' steady gaze. He could almost see the smile she barely had in check.

"Enough for her purposes. But everyone is different, Ms. Stevens."

Sir Renville was rubbing his chin deep in thought. "I agree with Mr. Wright. I do not know Mr. Wright personally at all. This information is not relevant. Mr. McAdoo, what say you?"

"I agree." Mr. McAdoo nodded. It seemed to him that Mr. Wright and Ms. Stevens were more than ready to move to an entirely different topic having to do with natural mysteries not manmade ones. Their body language was rather obvious he thought. He hid his grin behind his hand and disguised his chuckle in a cough. Severus retreated back to his seat.

"Mr. Wright please continue and tell us what you and Mr. Ironside did after finding the clues?" asked Sir Renville.

"We both stayed in the Study the entire time discussing the scrapbook. Then we heard the scream. We ran outside at the same time as everyone else. We made our way to the Red Room and found Mr. Levinson, Mr. Lewis and Ms. McFadden already there. And from there, everyone knows what happened."

"That brings us to Ms. Danforth." Sir Renville looked at her. "Please describe your movements."

Ms. Danforth tossed her hair back and signed dramatically. It was not a natural action for her and that was readily apparent. "I came down from the roof. My assigned room was the Armory. I went straight there."

"Who was with you and what did you do?"

"I didn't know who it was at first."

"Excuse me? How could you not know?"

"The door was locked, Sir Renville. I checked my note and it definitely said the Armory."

"What did you do then?"

"I knocked and knocked. Finally I gave up and just stood there. What else could I do?"

"Oswald and I came upon Ms. Danforth. We unlocked the door for her." Mr. McAdoo informed them all.

"Yes, they did and about time, too." She pouted a bit. "To make a long story short, I found Adam in the Armory reading something. I asked him why he hadn't let me in and he responded that he hadn't heard me knocking. I was knocking and knocking I tell you."

"What was Claymore reading?" asked Severus.

"I don't know. He didn't share it with me."

Upon hearing this Severus' mind went to pure analytical mode. No one else seems to have made a comment about it so it's unlikely that Claymore shared that knowledge. Very likely the article is still at St. Michaels. He began to plan another trip to St. Michael's Mount.

"Please continue, Ms. Danforth. What happened next?" Sir Renville quizzed.

"I busied myself looking about the room. Pretty soon, we heard Lady Renville scream. We ran outside to see what was going on. I stood outside the Red Room talking with Mr. Wright for a while." Ms. Danforth smiled coyly at Severus. "That's all. End of my story."

Hermione could not restrain herself. A question had popped into her mind and she had to have it answered. She raised her hand all the way into the air. She almost seemed to bounce in her seat in her eagerness. Severus was strongly reminded of a previous noteworthy student. He absentmindedly wondered what had ever happened to Hermione Granger. People had drifted apart after the war. Moving their own lives forward but you're still stuck in the same rut. He shook his head slightly and forced himself to stay in the moment instead of listening to errant, foolish voices.

Hermione burst out with her question not waiting for Mr. McAdoo to notice her. "Based on what you said, you were one of the last people to see Claymore alive. Was he acting differently?"

"From what?" Ms. Danforth looked at Hermione with a blank look on her face.

"Well, you were chatting him up at the Chymorvah and if I'm not mistaken on the ferry, too." Hermione's expression made her words a statement of fact not conjecture. "So was he different?"

Ms. Danforth was silent for a time seemingly lost in thought. "Not that I could tell. He barely spoke to me. In fact, I was looking for him on the rooftop but he was gone before me."

"Mr. Renville do you have any further questions?" Mr. McAdoo asked. He pulled out a pocket watch, flipped it open then closed it again with a satisfying click.

"No, Mr. McAdoo, not at this time. I would like a few moments to gather my notes and impressions." Sir Renville replied.

"Now, I believe is a good time to call for a short break then. Oswald, please escort Sir and Lady Renville to a guest suite." Mr. McAdoo called out. "Everyone, please gather outside Mr. Claymore's room at number 458 in twenty minutes. We will commence the room investigation then. Thank you everyone for cooperating."