Page 26 of Disturbing the Dead
“Good point. That’d make it easier. Get him in there or come in while he’s there.”
“Which would not be difficult.” McCreadie pauses as footsteps pass the closed door. Then he continues, “Sir Alastair could have gone in to check something for tonight’s event or he could have been taken in to check something. And if the murder was not premeditated, then the killer decided to use what was at hand to hide the body.”
“The staff said Sir Alastair locked the door after they removed the artifacts, but that it was unlocked when the footmen went to get the mummy. So Sir Alastair locks it, and either is surprised in there by his killer or taken there by his killer. You haven’t seen the artifact room yet, have you?”
“I was waiting for you before we searched the house. We should start there, though.”
We rise from our chairs and head into the hall.
“We will need a guide for the house,” McCreadie says as we walk. “Did any of the staff strike you as particularly suitable for such a task? Excellent knowledge of the house and unlikely to break down emotionally?”
“I can help you,” a voice says before I can answer. It’s a small voice, hesitant, and we turn to see Michael hovering in a doorway.
“I know the house better than most of the servants,” Michael says. “And I… I have not broken down yet. Phoebe is very upset, understandably, and I thought it best if I leave her with my mother. I liked Sir Alastair a great deal, but he is not my father.” He meets our eyes, one after the other, with a look that is almost challenging, as if expecting to see something there.
“All right,” I say carefully.
“He is not,” he says as he moves closer. “You may hear that he is, and that is a lie. People think that because my mother and Lady Christie were schoolmates, and I look as if I have English blood, and we all lived together… They draw conclusions.”
His jaw sets, and I realize he isn’t disavowing Sir Alastair as his dad, but as his biological father.
“My father was in the British diplomatic service,” Michael says. “He was English. He died when I was three, and then my mother went to work for Lady Christie.”
“Understood,” I say. “If we hear anything to the contrary, we will ignore it as rumor.”
That’s not entirely true. If it’s mentioned in any credible way that affects the investigation, we’d need to confirm it, but I also understand how lurid minds would concoct such a story. Two female friends have children around the same age? One is a brown-skinned governess with a son who seems half white? Clearly the children share a father, and then they’re all living together, and what a deliciously naughty bit of speculation is that?
“I can show you about the house, if you would like,” Michael says. “Or I can tell you which of the servants would know it best, though even they do not know all the hidey-holes.”
I smile. “Grown-ups never know all the hidey-holes. If you feel quite up to it, we would appreciate your services. Could we begin in the artifact room?”
NINE
The first thing I do is confirm that the door on the artifact room will lock from the inside. The lock would hearken back to a time when it’d likely been a guest bedroom, a very dreary and windowless chamber in the back hall, the sort you give to someone you don’t want to stay very long. The fact that it can also be locked from the outside might seem a little concerning, but many such rooms can, this being an era where guests often stay for weeks, and they might wish to lock their room when they are out.
The interior lock is important because it gave the killer time to mummify their victim. Sir Alastair had the only key, and so if he was within, being mummified, no one could wander in and disturb his killer. Then the killer had to leave the door unlocked, so the staff could remove the mummy, and we’d all have the horrific moment of watching Sir Alastair unwrapped.
We speculated earlier that the killer might not have known about the party and wrapped Sir Alastair to hide him. I no longer believe that. In retrospect, the wrapping job was too poorly done to disguise the body for long. That’s why we’d had no trouble unwrapping him. The chance that his killer just happened to hide him in the mummy wrapping while the staff was bustling about preparing for a mummy-unwrapping party? Slim to none.
The killer didn’t want to hide the body. They wanted drama. Sir Alastair’s dead body found in the bandages of the mummy he’d taken from Egypt. He’d been planning to unwrap some poor stranger, and instead, the corpse was his.
We’re going to need to return to the artifact room for a more thorough search. For now, McCreadie has an officer stand guard with orders that no one—even family—is to be admitted. It’s a crime scene, and even if police don’t fully recognize the implications of that yet, they understand that McCreadie works differently, and they like him enough to allow it.
Michael takes us on a quick tour of the house. This is mostly for us to understand the layout. We don’t know whether our killer is part of the household, but if not, then we need to see all the possible exits.
We are also looking for something. A very important literal missing piece.
The remains that had originally been in those wrappings.
We conducted a quick search in the artifact room, which was the most likely place to stash it. But with all the artifacts on display for the party, there hadn’t been many places to hide a desiccated corpse.
That leads to a problem. A rather large one. Killing and then mummifying Sir Alastair in a locked room would have been easily done. Getting the mummified remains out? With a house full of staff bustling about for a party?
“I don’t know how it would be accomplished,” McCreadie says as we walk while we talk. “But certainly not out the front door.”
“Then why not find a way to hide it in the artifact room? Taking it is a huge risk. So why? Is there a black market for mummified corpses?”
“A black…?”
