Page 89 of Murder on the Upper East Side

Hannah drew in a sharp breath. ‘Unless Mr Harris figured it out. When we were talking earlier, maybe an hour ago, he was agitated. He kept glancing around. I think… I think Mr Harris knew who killed Madison, and the killer lured him up to the roof.’

The killer.Oliver.

‘Then pushed him off to keep him silent,’ Theo finished.

One thing was bothering her. ‘Whoever pushed him knew how to get around the officer at the base of the stairs. How many people know about the staff stairwell?’

Theo frowned. ‘A few. Bash and Edward of course. Elle, Beatrice, you and me.’

‘Or anyone who saw us use it tonight,’ Hannah finished. ‘Fuck.That could be literally anyone.’

Theo grimaced. ‘Guess so. Anyone who located it could have told Harris about it. They both could have snuck up to the roof unseen. Then…’ Theo made a small pushing motion with his hands.

Hannah blanched. ‘Did the Beaumonts ever renovate up there? Or was the little wall still mostly for show?’

‘They haven’t changed a thing,’ Theo said. ‘It’s just like it was the last time we were all up there together, senior year.’

Hannah nodded. The day Tyler Marsden had hopped up on the wall to show off. If Mr Harris was pushed with enough force… he would have gone over, easily. Her stomach sloshed again.

From the far side of the lounge, Detective Wellesley’s voice carried above the crowd, hushing the low buzz of conversation.

‘Oliver Morgan, we need to speak to you immediately regarding the murders of Madison DuPont and Paul Harris.’

‘What?’ Oliver’s voice was strained. ‘Am I a suspect?’

‘We have a few urgent questions for you. Your co-operation is appreciated.’

‘Do I need a lawyer?’ Oliver asked, taking two steps back. ‘What exactly is going on right now?’

Detective Crews appeared beside them then. Atsome point while Hannah had been talking to Theo, he must have come back in from the sidewalk. The detective had Oliver’s phone, the unmistakable Gucci x CASETiFY Collab holographic snakeskin case, sealed in a plastic evidence bag. He handed it to his partner, then flashed Oliver a warrant.

‘Please hold still,’ he directed.

‘Oh my god,’ Hannah heard Oliver mumble as, methodically, Detective Crews began to pat him down, beginning with the shoulders of his emerald green tux jacket, then moving to his arms, then to his torso. ‘What the hell is going on? I’m notarmed, for god’s sake.’

Hannah shoved forward, transfixed.

‘What’s this?’ The detective paused with his hands on Oliver’s sides, beneath his jacket. ‘Inside the interior right breast pocket.’

Oliver shook his head. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. Frankly, I didn’t know this tux even had inside pockets.’

‘It certainly does.’ The detective’s gloved hand emerged holding a black remote small enough and thin enough to easily palm. Or conceal. ‘Recognise this?’

‘What the fuck?’ Oliver’s voice pitched to a near-shout. ‘What is that?’

Hannah’s heart stuttered. A sleek black remote in a club that eschewed devices. But one thing in the Lenox Club appeared to be modern; she’d noticed it hours ago. The lighting system.

‘Edward?’ Detective Wellesley glanced around the lounge, one hand in the air, beckoning.

Somehow, the killer had switched off all the lights in the club at once, pitching them into darkness, then brought the lights up as Madison collapsed in the hall. If this remote was what she thought it was, it wasn’t circumstantial. This was hard evidence, right in Oliver’s pocket.

Edward elbowed his way through the crowd to the front. Detective Crews had sealed the remote in a second evidence bag. He held it out for Edward to see. ‘This belong to the club?’

Edward nodded. ‘It controls the lights. We keep it at the reception desk.’

The club erupted in gasps. Somewhere over to Hannah’s right, Alice St Clair slumped to the floor, and one of the waitstaff rushed to get her a glass of water. ‘What the fuuuuuck?’ Hannah heard Tyler Marsden say from the opposite end of the lounge, and she turned just in time to see Alex kick the side of the fireplace. A bundle of greenery fell from the mantel to the floor. Ami stood with her back to the wall, looking pale.

Just then, Elle surged forward, towards Oliver. ‘You worthless piece of shit,’ she hissed.