“But he wasn’t worth it. King of Skin is part of the entertainment at these dos. We all turn up to see what he’ll say about other people. We expect him to have a go at us. It’s part of the game. You have to be able to take some, to hear some. Look, Jack and I both vouch for each other. We were together, when we heard King of Skin had been murdered. Haven’t left each other’s side since we got here. So we are each other’s alibi.”
“Yes,” I said. “But as a wise woman once said, ‘You would say that, wouldn’t you?’”
“I’m cold,” said Springheel Jack. “I’m so cold . . . It’s close, and it’s getting closer.”
His eyes had gone fey again. The Bride looked at him worriedly.
“Come with me, dear, and I’ll find you a nice large brandy to warm you up.”
She led him away, into the crowd. I looked at Hadleigh.
“Could you really have kept them in if they’d wanted out?” I said.
“Oh, I think so,” said Hadleigh. “Is it my turn now? I can’t vouch for my whereabouts as I have no idea where I was when King of Skin was murdered. I have no alibi. But you must know; I wouldn’t need a weapon to kill someone. Or I could have made him disappear. Sent him somewhere awful, to suffer for his many sins, and no-one would ever have known a thing about it.”
“Do you do that a lot?” I said, somewhat creeped out.
“When necessary,” said Hadleigh Oblivion.
“You’re really not helping your case,” I said. “What better way to hide your intent than a deliberately clumsy attack?”
“I have no weapons on me,” Hadleigh said easily. “I don’t feel the need for such things. Search me if you like. You won’t find anything. I guarantee it.”
But I was still thinking about the rose he had withered by breathing it in. And how King of Skin’s faces had withered away . . . “You knew about King of Skin’s other skins,” I said. “No-one else did. And he said he knew the price you paid, to gain access to the Deep School. What kind of price was that? What did you do, that you couldn’t tell your brothers? Did King of Skin know something that you couldn’t afford anyone else to know?”
“He knew nothing,” said Hadleigh. “The only people who know anything about the Deep School are those who’ve been there. And we never talk.”
I was getting ready to pursue the point when another great cry went up. A man, crying out in shock and horror. The immortals were already falling back, scattering like panicked birds, from something that had happened on the other side of the room. I forced my way through them, to find Springheel Jack kneeling by the still-and-lifeless body of the Bride. He was holding her in his arms, rocking her back and forth like a sleeping child, his face gaunt with horror and loss. The Bride’s eyes were wide open and staring. She looked like a broken doll. I could see a jagged wound in her side, soaked with blood. Jack looked at me.
“Why didn’t you listen to me? Why didn’t you let us go? None of this would have happened if you’d let us go!”
I looked quickly around. No-one had a knife or any other weapon in hand, and no-one looked particularly guilty. Most of them looked shocked, unable to believe that a second murder of an immortal could have happened in a place where they should have felt safe. I could see the same thought start to appear in several faces—the need to get out of this dangerous place.
“Everyone please move to the back of the ballroom!” I said loudly. “Back up to the door. Hadleigh is there; the Detective Inspectre. He’ll keep you safe. And, no, it couldn’t have been him because I was talking with him when the murder happened. Now move back, keep an eye on whom you’re with, and leave me to get on with the investigation. Shut up and move!”
They moved. I turned my back on them, to concentrate on Springheel Jack and the Bride. He was crying now, great racking sobs that shook his whole body. The Bride looked
“Yes,” I said. “But as a wise woman once said, ‘You would say that, wouldn’t you?’”
“I’m cold,” said Springheel Jack. “I’m so cold . . . It’s close, and it’s getting closer.”
His eyes had gone fey again. The Bride looked at him worriedly.
“Come with me, dear, and I’ll find you a nice large brandy to warm you up.”
She led him away, into the crowd. I looked at Hadleigh.
“Could you really have kept them in if they’d wanted out?” I said.
“Oh, I think so,” said Hadleigh. “Is it my turn now? I can’t vouch for my whereabouts as I have no idea where I was when King of Skin was murdered. I have no alibi. But you must know; I wouldn’t need a weapon to kill someone. Or I could have made him disappear. Sent him somewhere awful, to suffer for his many sins, and no-one would ever have known a thing about it.”
“Do you do that a lot?” I said, somewhat creeped out.
“When necessary,” said Hadleigh Oblivion.
“You’re really not helping your case,” I said. “What better way to hide your intent than a deliberately clumsy attack?”
“I have no weapons on me,” Hadleigh said easily. “I don’t feel the need for such things. Search me if you like. You won’t find anything. I guarantee it.”
But I was still thinking about the rose he had withered by breathing it in. And how King of Skin’s faces had withered away . . . “You knew about King of Skin’s other skins,” I said. “No-one else did. And he said he knew the price you paid, to gain access to the Deep School. What kind of price was that? What did you do, that you couldn’t tell your brothers? Did King of Skin know something that you couldn’t afford anyone else to know?”
“He knew nothing,” said Hadleigh. “The only people who know anything about the Deep School are those who’ve been there. And we never talk.”
I was getting ready to pursue the point when another great cry went up. A man, crying out in shock and horror. The immortals were already falling back, scattering like panicked birds, from something that had happened on the other side of the room. I forced my way through them, to find Springheel Jack kneeling by the still-and-lifeless body of the Bride. He was holding her in his arms, rocking her back and forth like a sleeping child, his face gaunt with horror and loss. The Bride’s eyes were wide open and staring. She looked like a broken doll. I could see a jagged wound in her side, soaked with blood. Jack looked at me.
“Why didn’t you listen to me? Why didn’t you let us go? None of this would have happened if you’d let us go!”
I looked quickly around. No-one had a knife or any other weapon in hand, and no-one looked particularly guilty. Most of them looked shocked, unable to believe that a second murder of an immortal could have happened in a place where they should have felt safe. I could see the same thought start to appear in several faces—the need to get out of this dangerous place.
“Everyone please move to the back of the ballroom!” I said loudly. “Back up to the door. Hadleigh is there; the Detective Inspectre. He’ll keep you safe. And, no, it couldn’t have been him because I was talking with him when the murder happened. Now move back, keep an eye on whom you’re with, and leave me to get on with the investigation. Shut up and move!”
They moved. I turned my back on them, to concentrate on Springheel Jack and the Bride. He was crying now, great racking sobs that shook his whole body. The Bride looked
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