Page 65 of Murder on the Upper East Side

Ethan shrugged, casting a last glance at Bash, then dutifully headed towards the door.

Madison walked to a chair near the bar cart and stared at its occupant until she got up and scurried to the opposite end of the roof. There were no other empty seats, so Hannah perched on the wall. She was at an awkward angle, slightly behind Madison, but Madison left her chair positioned as it was, so that Hannah had to crane forward to talk to her.

‘He’s sulking,’ Beatrice said from behind the bar cart, tilting her chin to Bash. He’d succeeded in lighting the fire pit and was now sitting on the deep sofa, his back to them, sipping a whiskey neat and staring into the flames.

‘Is he really failing seminar?’ Hannah asked.

‘Not yet, but he will be if he keeps this up. Throwingparties when he should be writing. Harris gave him a tome of notes, and he hasn’t touched his draft since.’

Madison flapped one slender hand in the air. ‘Revisions aren’t due until Monday. There’s plenty of time.’

Beatrice laughed. ‘Maybe for you. I tried to talk him out of all this’ – she motioned around the roof – ‘but he was dead set on tonight.’

‘Wouldn’t you be?’ Madison asked. ‘Richard took Edward to the Riviera and left Bash behind.’

‘To work on his paper,’ Beatrice replied. ‘So he can graduate?’

Madison shook her head, red hair tumbling around her shoulders. ‘You know it’s never that simple with Richard. Speaking of…’ She leaned forward, peering at the beverage selection. ‘I’ll have the Sancerre rosé.’

Beatrice selected a glass from beneath the cart and poured. ‘Hannah?’

‘No thanks.’ Her parents would be waiting up, and besides, she felt a little unsteady up here on the roof.

As Beatrice and Madison continued their analysis of Bash’s precarious position in the senior class, Hannah slipped her phone from her bag. Three more texts from Grace, all about the housing questionnaire they were supposed to be filling out together. They’d both gotten into UPenn, as expected, but while Grace had immediately accepted her spot and paid the deposit, Hannah was no more decided than she had been a few weeks ago. Because she’d also gotten into NYU.

Just then, Ethan reappeared, a pair of luxe spa slippers in hand. TheLCmonogram had been embroidered across the toes in gold thread. ‘My lady.’

Hannah switched off her phone. Gratefully, she kicked off her heels and slid them on. ‘That’s so much better. Thank you.’

Ethan nodded, sinking down on the wall beside her. Conspiratorially, he looked between Madison, Hannah and Beatrice. ‘I found something in Bash’s room.’

‘Bash’s room?’ Hannah asked. The Beaumonts owned a vast penthouse several blocks north, on East 81st Street; they didn’t live at the club.

‘When Richard travels, Bash likes to stay in the MacAllister Room,’ Beatrice explained. ‘Chef Bernard feeds him, and it’s better than banging around that whole penthouse by himself.’

‘Of course,’ Hannah said, although a week alone in a fabulous Upper East Side penthouse didn’t sound half bad.

‘Anyway,’ Madison cut in. ‘Don’t leave us hanging, Ethan. What did you find?’

He leaned in and dropped his voice. ‘There’s an oil portrait on a stand beside the bed. I looked beneath the cover. It’s a nude… ofElle.’

Madison stiffened, and Hannah glanced at Beatrice, gauging her reaction. Their conversation from a few weeks ago was still fresh in her mind:You asked about Bash, and it’s not exactly a secret. He’s in love with Elle. Obviously.

Beatrice’s face gave nothing away. A pair of juniorsstepped up to the bar cart, and she turned to pour two glasses of white. When they’d gone, Beatrice shrugged. ‘Over winter break, Elle and I posed for an accomplished oil painter, Verna Reese. She’s a friend of my mother’s.’

‘Okay…’ Ethan said, not so patiently anticipating the rest of the story.

‘Okay, what? I knowyouhave no interest in the female form, but Verna’s nudes are beautiful. Mine’s in my bedroom. I suppose Elle gave hers to Bash.’

Madison stood, chair skidding back on the flagstone. ‘Excuse me.’

Hannah and the others watched as she walked briskly over to the fire pit, then flung herself onto the sofa, beside Bash. Ethan stood and took Madison’s chair, leaving Hannah on the wall alone once again.

Hannah leaned forward, but it was impossible to hear what they were saying. To effectively eavesdrop, something that certainly wasn’t beneath her, she’d need to get closer.

‘What are you doing?’ Beatrice hissed, watching Hannah stand and begin to cross the deck.

Hannah ignored her, and, slippers padding silently against the flagstone, she walked to the sofa where Bash and Madison were sitting. The sofa was angled to face the fire, and she crouched down behind it, unseen.