Page 31 of Disturbing the Dead
“It was… Er, so, I apologize in advance. I only read enough to figure out what it was. It seems Lady Inglis wanted to woo you back with, er, detailed descriptions of what you were, umm, missing. After your breakup.”
Another of those strangled noises.
“I really didn’t read more than a line or two,” I say quickly, without looking back at him. “And I’m sorry I saw that much. I hated reading your mail, however inadvertently, and I hated holding on to it, but I couldn’t figure out how to return it without you realizing Catriona had it. Super awkward. So I’m leaping on a vaguely adjacent conversation to confess and promise it back.”
I turn back to the tunnel, and we walk in silence until Gray says, “Yes, this is exceptionally embarrassing. For both of us. I am sorry you had to find that. But you may dispose of it.”
“I really should give it back—”
“I would rather you didn’t. I will be happier not knowing what was in it… and what parts you might have read.”
“Nothing scandalous. I could just tell more was coming and closed it fast.”
“Hmm. Well, still, if you would burn it, I would appreciate that. It would only be the reminder of a mistake…” He inhales. “Let us leave it at that, as I am certain you are as eager to drop this conversation as I am.”
“Yep.”
“Burn it. Please.”
“Done. And, would you look at that. We’ve reached the spot where we found Mr. Awad. Never thought we’d get here, did you?”
He lets out a soft chuckle. “It was a very long walk.”
“Shit!” I turn toward him. “Mr. Awad said he ducked into another passageway and then presumably the killer hid in this one to ambush him. That means the one where Mr. Awad hid would be the way we just came.”
“We passed one a few feet back.”
We retreat to it, and I bend with the lantern, remembering at the last second that this flips up my skirts at the back, and I need to adjust. There are clear footprints in the silt and soil. The central part of the tunnel is too rocky to show prints, but the dirt is softer here because no one comes into this short passage, which is collapsed after about two meters.
Gray sketches the footprint while I do some makeshift measurements using tape I commandeered from a sewing kit. That’s all we find in here. A few footprints, some clear and some scuffed, matching Selim’s story that he ducked in here to spook the children.
“The presumed killer was loaded down with a bundle of bones,” I say. “Did he have a light?”
Gray takes the lantern and extinguishes it, plunging us into blackness. “I would say yes.”
“He had a light, and Mr. Awad must have had at least a match. We’ll need to ask. Mr. Awad would have put his light out. Can you ignite that again please and walk down the tunnel? I want to test what I’d see.”
“Pass me matches, and I will light it again.”
When I don’t answer, Gray says, “I am teasing, Mallory.” He lights the lantern. “I saw you put down the matches after you lit it. You need to take them with you, in case it goes out.”
He backs down the hall. I stand where it seems Selim did, according to the footprints. The problem with our test, of course, is that we don’t know what kind of light the intruder had or how they were carrying it, but it wouldn’t have been anything larger than a lantern, and Gray gamely emulates how he might hold that with an armful of bundled body parts.
He carries the lantern in the hand closest to me. That would be the left hand, and odds are the person was right-handed, but it provides maximum illumination from my angle.
At maximum illumination, with the lantern in his left hand, angled to shine brightest, all I can see is Gray’s sleeve, left shoulder and left hip. Even when I try to look up toward his face, the shadows hide it. I have an impression of a dark-clothed figure carrying an armload of something. As Selim said, I could better describe that armload than the figure itself. I couldn’t guess at gender, skin color, hair color, or anything else.
We try the experiment with the lantern in his other hand, in case the reduced illumination actually makes it easier to see more of Gray. It doesn’t. I take the lantern and test it with Gray watching.
“I can tell you are in a dress,” he says, “and that it is greenish blue. If you had your crinolines on, I would be able to tell you were a woman by the shape.”
“But not a maid wearing lesser skirts. Or a lady who’d removed them.”
“Yes. And if you were wearing a cloak, the only part of you I might see is your hand. We will have to ask Mr. Awad about that.”
“Right. Seeing the hand would suggest skin tone and possibly sex. Unless it’s gloved.”
“Which could still suggest sex, depending on the glove. Otherwise, his claim that he saw mostly the bundle of supposed sticks is supported by the evidence.”
