Page 13 of Murder on the Upper East Side

Edward pulled her none too gently to the narrow staircase leading to the club’s second floor, which housed ten guest rooms. On the evening of the gala, the rooms had been kept deliberately empty to preserve the function’s privacy.

‘You can’t be serious,’ Hannah said, voice rising.‘Why am I to be interviewedfirst? What did you and Bashsayto them?’

‘Don’t act so surprised,’ Edward hissed. ‘Three weeks ago, you publish an article lambasting your former classmates, and oh, it just happens to drop the same day Henry announces his run for mayor.’

‘That was a complete coincidence,’ she snapped, allowing herself to be guided up the stairs. It had been ten years since she’d been inside the Lenox Club, and during the few parties she’d attended here as Bash Beaumont’s guest, she’d never set foot inside the guest rooms. She was vexed – but also mildly curious. It would be a great detail for her follow-up article, although with Madison’s death, she imagined the shape of the piece might shift a bit.

‘Sure,’ Edward replied, unconvinced, his voice louder now that they’d left the other guests behind.

‘Itwas,’ Hannah insisted. ‘Not that I’d expect you to know anything about journalism, butCulture Vaultwriters don’t choose their publication dates – or write their own headlines. Besides, I found out about Winslow’s mayoral run at the same moment as everyone else. What do the detectives think, that Winslow’s team called me up and gave me a tip?’

‘I have no idea,’ Edward snarled, tugging her roughly to the end of the hall and fitting a heavy brass key in the lock of the door to the Caraway Room, the club’s corner suite. ‘But Idoknow you’ve had it in for the Upper East Siders for years, and your grievances against Madison go way back. Everyonesaw your heated exchange minutes before she died. You probably slipped something into her drink.’

‘Oh please.’ Hannah glared. ‘Elle was the last person to speak to Madison, not me. If I’d dosed her drink right there in front of the lecterns, don’t you think someone would have seen?’

‘You’re wrong about Elle,’ he snapped, twisting the key hard. ‘She was Madison’s best friend. And as for the rest – tell it to the detectives.’

With that, Edward flung the door wide. The room before them wasn’t large for a hotel suite; the club was built on quality and tradition, not opulence and scale. An oil portrait of the room’s namesake, former club member Reginald G. Caraway, hung above the bed. Directly across was a working fireplace, and a tasteful selection of heirloom antiques appeared throughout. Today’s edition ofThe New York Timeswas folded neatly on the nightstand. What did not appear in the Caraway Room said as much about the Lenox Club as what did – no phone, no USB ports on the base of the lamps, no massive flat screen TV, or a television of any kind.

In a recessed space between the bedroom and bath was a large mahogany desk and two deep leather chairs. Already seated were Detectives Wellesley and Crews, their hands folded on the neat desktop, which contained only a fountain pen in a brass holder, three sheets ofLCmonogrammed stationery and a leather-bound room service menu.

Edward stepped back into the hall and shut thedoor with a thud, and Hannah flinched in spite of herself.

‘Thank you for speaking with us,’ Detective Crews said, unfolding his hands and placing them in his lap. Detective Wellesley rose and crossed to the aisle beside the bed, where a wooden chair with an oxblood red seat cushion had been positioned. She slid it awkwardly across the rug, then placed it on the opposite side of the desk, for Hannah.

‘Please, have a seat.’

Seeing no other choice, Hannah sat.

‘As we mentioned downstairs,’ Detective Wellesley said, ‘the Lenox Club has been placed on lockdown while we conduct our interviews. No one may enter or depart until we’ve concluded taking statements.’

Hannah didn’t recall the use of the word ‘lockdown’ in the detectives’ introductory address to the gala crowd, but the image of the butler securing the front door and the uniformed officer taking up a post there was burned on her brain.

‘With that in mind, we’ll keep our conversation as brief as possible,’ Detective Crews said. ‘Let’s begin.’

He switched on a recording device and placed it on the desk between them. Hannah supposed the police got a waiver when it came to the no-devices policy.

‘This is Detective Randall Crews of the NYPD. It is Friday, 12 June 2026, at ten minutes after nine pm, and we are in the Caraway Room of the Lenox Club, located at 32 East 73rd Street. I am here with HannahIrene Miller and my colleague Detective Raina Wellesley. This interview is being recorded on audio only. Ms Miller, can you please state your name for the record? And can you confirm that you are here voluntarily and willing to speak with us?’

Hannah’s eyebrows arched. Had she agreed to speak with the detectives voluntarily? She supposed she had given her tacit consent by allowing Edward Beaumont to bring her up here, and by staying in the room when he left, when she could have simply followed him back into the hall. Nevertheless, it wasn’t too late to change her mind.

‘Am I a suspect?’ she asked.

‘At the moment, we are simply taking statements from those in attendance at the club tonight,’ Detective Wellesley said.

Hannah chewed on the inside of her lip. She could refuse to speak to them until she had a lawyer present; the detectives had done their best to wave aside the concerns raised by the crowd downstairs, but she knew her rights. But asking for a lawyer would cast all the more suspicion on her, when she was clearly already in their sights. Why else would they have called her up first?

She thought it through. Sure, Edward and the ‘one percenters’ had seen her article as a personal affront, and possible motive for murder, but New York’s finest were not among the one per cent. And yes, she’dtechnicallyhad opportunity to poison Madison’s drink, but so had Elle, and Bash, and the severalclassmates Madison had spoken to after the welcome address – and Henry Alcott Winslow for that matter, before he slipped out. Not to mention anyone Madison might have encountered in the ladies’ room.

If she agreed to speak now, voluntarily, she could make them see all that, get the heat off herself. Diverting their suspicions at the start of the night might be her best play. If the interview went off course, she’d simply walk out.

‘Fine. My name is Hannah Irene Miller, and I’m willing to speak voluntarily.’

‘Ms Miller—’

‘Please call me Hannah.’

‘Hannah,’ Detective Crews continued, ‘you were a scholarship student at Prescott Academy during the 2016 to 2017 school year. Is that correct?’