"No," Lucifer whispered. "We don't need it-all we need to get Sweetie free is that volume of Aesop's Fables."
Phyllida frowned, but shuffled past the halberd and out of the room.
As they filed into the dining room with the big table in the center and bookcases all around, Appleby waved the ladies to one side and the men to the other. Phyllida hesitated; Lucifer squeezed her fingers, then let her go. His last words ringing in her mind, she made for the bookcase by the corner window. Ironic that in this house of bookcases, the one that housed the vital volume was the one Appleby had passed most often, the one by the window with the faulty latch. Phyllida started searching along the shelves; Flick searched the bookcase beside her.
Appleby retreated to a corner of the room, pulling a chair from the table and pushing Sweetie onto it. He had a wall of bookcases at his back, the door at some distance, and Mrs. Hemmings was the closest person-no threat.
Once they were all settled, Lucifer asked, in a mildly conversational tone, "How did Horatio die?"
"It was an accident. I never meant to kill him. I didn't even know he was in the house. I didn't hear him come downstairs and along the hall-his feet were bare, so there was no sound. He was suddenly there, in the doorway, asking what the devil I was doing. He'd seen me searching. I rose and walked toward him. He was a fair size and in reasonable health-I didn't think I could strangle him. He stood there and watched me come. Then I saw the letter knife on the table." He paused, then said, "It's surprisingly easy if you know how."
"Why did you try to kill Phyllida?" Sir Jasper turned, frowning, then forced himself to continue searching.
"Miss Tallent?" There was laughter in Appleby's voice. "That was such a farce, with her stumbling on the body and then Cynster coming in and the halberd falling. I was so strung up I nearly laughed aloud. I saw her notice the hat, but then she bolted. When I left the house, hat and identity still concealed, I knew that no matter what happened, no matter what hurdles appeared, I was meant, in the end, to have that painting. I'd be able to live like I was meant to live-in reasonable comfort, like a gentleman."
"So why go after Phyllida?" Jonas asked.
"She came back for the hat."
Phyllida turned to stare at Appleby. He smiled, tightly. "I was in the hall when you asked Bristleford about the hat. You hadn't forgotten it-you weren't going to forget it."
"But I didn't know whose it was."
"I could hardly rely on your faulty memory continuing faulty. You'd seen me often enough wearing the wretched thing-it was the only hat I had. Of course, with Cynster here to fill your eyes and your mind, you were distracted enough not to remember, but you might have at any time."
Lucifer caught Phyllida's eye and frowned-she shut her lips on the information that she'd never noticed Appleby enough to remember his hat. She turned back to the bookshelves.
"I'd got rid of the hat immediately, of course. I stuffed it in a hedge at the back of Ballyclose. Later, I got to thinking, so I went back to find it and burn it, but it was gone. I assumed some tramp had taken it. I thought I was safe, or would be once I ensured Miss Tallent didn't remember whose hat it was."
"So you tried to shoot her."
"Yes." Appleby's voice tensed. "Then I tried to strangle her. All that did was make Cynster keep a closer watch on her, but I hoped it was also frightening her enough to keep her from remembering me. I tried to get at her again during the Ballyclose ball-I suspected she might search Cedric's hats. My plan didn't work, but then… she got me to walk out onto the terrace and around the corner with her, asking after Cedric… I could hardly believe my luck. I almost strangled her and hid the body in the bushes, but people might have seen us leave the ballroom together. Then Cynster arrived. I had to watch her walk away again."
Phyllida glanced, briefly, at Lucifer.
"Then she found the hat. Worse, she took it to Cedric. If I didn't act immediately, I'd be found out. So I wrote the note from Molly, knocked Phyllida out, and set the fire.
"The hat burned, Phyllida didn't." Appleby's tone was terse. "I gave up trying to kill her. At least the hat was gone-she had no proof to connect me with anything. But you'd put locks on this house, and there was still the possibility that suspicion would turn my way. I obviously had to act boldly and decisively to bring my search to a rapid and successful conclusion. The fete gave me the perfect opportunity. So here we are."
After a moment, Lucifer said, "You meant to take a hostage."
"Of course. It was the only way to get the job done-too risky to search a shelf or two at a time. I want that volume of Aesop's Fables in my hands before nightfall."
Phyllida's tongue burned with the need to ask why. She glanced at Flick, and saw the identical thought in her eyes. They both drew breath, then turned their attention back to the shelves and continued pretending to search.
Silence fell, broken only by the steady shuffle and thump as books were hauled out, then returned to their places. After some minutes, Phyllida glanced across the room. Lucifer caught her eye; he nodded.
Phyllida moved across the bookcase as if starting on the next shelf, and slid out the brown, buckram-covered tome whose spine bore the title Aesop's Fables in simple gold lettering. She weighed the book in her hand, then opened the cover-she could see where Lucifer had lifted a corner of the front cover paper. She pressed her fingers into the thick cover; there was a softness behind the paper. Lucifer had said he'd checked; she trusted he'd known what he'd been doing.
Shutting the book, she marveled that such an innocent-looking thing could be responsible for three deaths. For depriving Lucius Appleby of his sanity. Certainly his humanity. It had nearly accounted for her, too.
Straightening her shoulders, she lifted her head and looked across the room at Appleby. "I believe this"-she held out the book-"is the volume you seek."
Appleby nearly stepped forward, nearly stepped away from Sweetie, but at the last he pulled back. He couldn't read the title. He stared at the book hungrily, then licked his lips. He flicked a glance at Lucifer and Demon. "Everyone stay still." Appleby tugged Sweetie to her feet, then locked his arm about her shoulders as before, the knife in his right hand. He nodded at Phyllida. "Hand the book to Mrs. Hemmings, then retreat to where you are now. Everyone else, stay where you are."
Phyllida did as he asked. Mrs. Hemmings turned to Appleby. He beckoned her forward with the knife. "Give the book to Miss Sweet."
Mrs. Hemmings approached cautiously, then pressed the book into her old friend's trembling hands. "There, now."