‘He’s not my friend,’ said April.
‘Well, regardless, we know where he was and we’ve also checked out most of your schoolmates: Davina and Ben Osbourne, Marcus Brent, Simon Oliver, Ling Po Chan, Layla—’
‘How do you know who I hang out with?’ interrupted April, a little unsettled. ‘Have you been watching me?’
Reece smiled slightly. ‘We asked your teachers. They always know what’s going on in their school.’
April blushed.
‘After that, we widened the net to your dad’s friends - all at work or in Edinburgh; your mum’s friends - most of them were tucked away in various hairdressers’; and other possible disgruntled people who your dad may have upset in his work as a journalist, but again, our most likely suspects are either in prison or out of the country.’
‘So you have nothing? No suspects?’
‘Unfortunately, it’s quite the opposite. Most of the alibis are full of holes: “I was at home watching telly” or “I was asleep at the time”: very hard to prove, very hard to disprove. Take your own alibi, that you were with Mr Sheldon. We have other witnesses that saw you together, but we only have your word and his as to when it took place. Also, Mr Sheldon has a fast car, he could have driven up to the house, knowing you’d corroborate his story. If you want to get all Agatha Christie about it, you could be working together.’
April understood what he was saying, but she didn’t like it at all.
‘So you’re saying anyone could have done it?’
Reece smiled without humour. ‘Almost everybody has a weak alibi, April. Your friend Davina says she went shopping, Benjamin says he was “hanging out” with his friends: do you see? We check their stories as far as we can, but unless we stumble across a bloody knife when we question them, we need other evidence first.’
‘So what do I do?’ she asked, a note of desperation in her voice. ‘How can I tell who might be the killer? Who can I trust?’
DI Reece’s face was hard when he spoke. ‘Trust no one, April. It sounds melodramatic, but it’s the best advice I can give you. As I said before, I think we’re looking for one killer - that’s the logical conclusion - but then nothing in this case is straightforward. Normally I’d ask, “why would any of these suspects kill your dad? Why would they kill Isabelle or Alix?” And I’ll be honest with you, I’m drawing a blank. Nothing I can see links all of the suspects and the victims, except Ravenwood - and only then in a very vague way. None of the usual rules apply here.’
‘So what are you telling me, Mr Reece?’ asked April, a horrible creeping feeling in her stomach. Reece shook his head and sighed.
‘anyone of the people I’ve mentioned could have killed your dad,’ he said, looking her straight in the eyes. ‘And one of them probably did.’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
It was scary enough to visit the Osbourne mansion with its huge gardens and tall chimneys, but it was even more nerve-wracking when you had to pass a security checkpoint before you even got onto their property.
April pressed the intercom button and waited as a camera with a blinking red light swivelled around to look at her.
‘
Zzzzkkt
. Yes?’ said a robotic voice.
‘Uh, hi, I’m April Dunne? I’ve come to see Davina.’
‘Zzzrrt.
One moment.’
She waited again, wondering if this was such a good idea. After the success of their audacious raid on the headmaster’s office, Caro had been full of excitement about her ‘play-date’ with Davina. ‘She’s sucking you in like one of those tractor beams in
Star Wars
,’ she said. ‘It’s only a matter of time before she tries to bite you.’
That’s what I’m worried about,
thought April as the black gates to the mansion began to swing open. Her conversation with DI Reece had left her shaken. In one conversation, all her worst suspicions had been confirmed: her father had been killed by a vampire and in all probability she knew his killer personally. Could it be Davina? Benjamin? One of their friends or relatives? The sane thing to do would be to turn around and run away from this house as fast as she could, but April couldn’t do that. She was committed; she had to find out who had killed her father, even if it meant putting herself in danger. The stakes became higher than ever as April felt herself pulled deeper and deeper into this disorientating labyrinth, fearing with every twist and turn that she would find herself at the very centre. The school was still buzzing with rumours about Milo’s worsening condition. Apparently it was such big news that Caro’s Biology teacher had taken the time to explain his condition - a variety of necrotising fasciitis, caused by the
Streptococcus pyogenes
bacterium, Caro had knowledgeably informed her - so people were now paranoid it was infectious. April put one hand up to touch the birthmark behind her ear and hoped that Gabriel was wrong.
‘Bloody hell,’ muttered April as her feet crunched along the gravel drive. She felt an awfully long way from the road. To her left was a pond - well, more like a lake, really - with a little oriental bridge over it and in front of her the house loomed like a medieval palace. She couldn’t imagine what the Osbournes must have thought of her tiny house.
‘Hello!’ called a cheery voice, and Davina popped her head around the front door. ‘Sorry about that,’ she said, walking out to air-kiss April. ‘The security’s so annoying, isn’t it? But we can’t be too careful with Daddy’s company, there’s so many loonies about.’
Any demonstrators might get a surprise if they tried to protest here
, thought April as she walked inside.
‘Wow!’ she said. The hallway had a domed glass ceiling and impressive-looking art was hung all the way up the stairs. ‘It’s amazing.’
‘Do you like it? I think it’s a bit, you know, old. Mind you, it’s nothing on Daddy’s place in Gloucester, that’s like an Elizabethan nightmare, all creaky floors and horrid little windows.’ She shivered. ‘Still, it’s great for parties. You are still coming to the Winter Ball? You have to, it’s going to be full of so many of Daddy’s horrid lechy friends, we need all the glamour we can get.’
April nodded eagerly in a way she hoped looked suitably air-headed. In truth, she was dreading it, being surrounded by strangers, not knowing who was who and indeed, who they really were under their masks, but aware that some, if not all of them, were killers.
Her father’s
killers.
‘Fabulous,’ gushed Davina. ‘Come on through to the drawing room, Ling Po’s here.’
The drawing room was wide and open with high windows overlooking the terrace which was slowly dimming as the winter sun sank behind the horizon. Some interior designer had spent a fortune on the black and white upholstered Art Deco furniture and cream carpet. Even the chrome light fittings looked expensive.
‘Hi, darling,’ said Ling, trotting up and kissing April. ‘Ben’s just been teaching me how to play poker.’
Benjamin was sitting at a long dark-wood table, expertly shuffling a pack of cards.
‘Not strip poker, I hope?’ said Davina with a frown. ‘Honestly, that boy’s got a one-track mind.’
Benjamin ignored her and smiled at April. ‘Hello, April, welcome to the madhouse.’
‘It’s amazing,’ said April. ‘I was just telling Davina.’
‘April thinks it’s marvy,’ said Davina with a wicked smile that Ling returned, as if they were sharing a joke.
‘Oh, I prefer modern architecture, don’t you?’ said Ling. ‘I can’t stand all this old stuff.’
‘Philistines,’ said Benjamin, cocking a thumb at them.
‘Do you want to come for a dip, April? Dav and I are going in the hot tub in a minute.’
‘No, Ling, April’s here now,’ said Davina.
‘But you promised,’ whined the Chinese girl.
‘Well, only if April comes too,’ she said, shooting a devilish look at April.
‘Oh, I didn’t bring a costume,’ said April uncertainly.
‘It’s a hot tub, silly.’ Ling giggled. ‘You don’t need a costume.’
‘Do come, April,’ said Davina, touching her arm. ‘It’s so nice to be outside when it’s so cold.’
‘But it’s so hot inside,’ said Ling, still giggling.
‘Don’t listen to them, April,’ said Benjamin. ‘It’s freezing out there and they’re only teasing about the costumes,
aren’t
you?’
Davina pouted and held up her thumb and forefinger. ‘A little.’
‘You go and have your much-needed bath.’ Benjamin sighed. ‘I’ll look after your guest.’
‘Do you mind, April?’ asked Davina, even as she started heading for the door.
‘No, not at all, I’m fine,’ she said, although inside she was feeling quite the opposite, as if she had just walked into the lion’s den. If Gabriel was right, then she was being left alone with a vampire, a mythical killer. There were no witnesses, no one to call for help, she was completely alone. No, she was not ‘fine’ at all.
‘Go on, shoo!’ said Ben, shutting the door behind them.
He turned to April and rolled his eyes. ‘She’s going to have to learn a few more hostessing skills to have a hope of marrying into royalty.’
April forced out a laugh. ‘Is that the plan, then?’
‘Oh yes, hasn’t she told you? She’s been tracking all the eligible princes in Europe since she was old enough to play Barbie weddings. Her room is a shrine to
Tatler
and
Paris Match
.’
April frowned. Something didn’t quite fit here. The marry-into-royalty plan certainly sounded like something Davina the vacuous schoolgirl would choose as a career plan, but if Davina was in fact a devious vampire, there was a big stumbling block: she couldn’t be seen in photos. Surely as a high-profile society wife she’d be snapped by the paparazzi all the time? Yes, Gabriel had explained that the vampires’ plan was to stay in the background pulling the strings, but for a woman like Davina, that would be impossible; she’d be in
OK!
and
Hello!
all the time. Or perhaps it’s just her cover story.
Benjamin saw the look on April’s face. ‘What’s the matter? ’
‘Oh, nothing,’ said April. ‘Just not very romantic, is it?’
Ben chuckled. ‘You’ve met my sister, right? I don’t think romance is high up on her list of priorities; things like “Bentley”, “Cartier” and “couture” come much higher.’
April smiled, then remembered where she was and who she was talking to.
Be professional, April
, she scolded herself.
Infiltrate.
‘So what’s your long-term plan, Ben?’ she asked. ‘Finding yourself a nice little heiress?’
‘God no,’ he said. ‘If I ever get married it will be for love.’ His eyes twinkled mischievously at April, but then he quickly added, ‘But I want to get into politics as soon as I can, so I suppose that’s not very romantic either. I’ve been doing media training and getting experience at one of my dad’s firms. All very dull, I know, but you’ve got to know what you want in life.’
And sometimes what you want is irrelevant
, thought April ruefully. She wished she could imagine her own career in the same way, but apparently someone had other plans for her. April wondered if Benjamin would run into the same problem with photos and TV cameras as Davina, but perhaps that was what his media training was all about. Certainly in politics it was possible to stay in the shadows and still have influence, but even so, April was unsettled by these revelations. She couldn’t be sure, but she had a feeling there was something more going on here, something she was missing - but what was it? She puzzled over it as they watched Davina and Ling scamper for the hot tub on the terrace.
‘I bet it’s an amazing view,’ said April, walking over to the French windows. In the fading light, she could just make out the garden beyond the terrace and after that the park and the cemetery. It was like a slightly more stylish version of Milo’s house, although the Asprey place backed onto the Heath instead. ‘Although I wouldn’t want to have the cemetery so close. Don’t you find it a bit, well, creepy, having all those gravestones just beyond your garden wall?’
‘I suppose.’ Benjamin shrugged. ‘I guess I’ve just got used to it. Never seen any ghosts or anything either. Anyway, since you’ve been abandoned by your hostess, how about I give you the guided tour?’