The Corpse with the Sapphire Eyes by Cathy Ace Page B

moved to stand behind me and gave my shoulders a squeeze. “It’s decided then. I don’t think we should say anything to anyone about what we’ve seen on the body, or our suspicions, agreed? We’re guests, just guests. It wouldn’t be a ‘normal’ thing, for us to get involved.”
    I nodded. “We don’t know who might be a suspect, so everyone has to be considered as a possible pusher or tripper. So no cats out of bags, I agree.”
    â€œI agree too,” said Siân sleepily.
    I said, “Let’s just hunt about upstairs for a few moments, please? I want to see if I can find something that might have hit him on the legs just moments before he fell. I won’t rest at all until I do. And it would be difficult to do that when everyone’s up and about, without letting on that we’re looking into David’s death.”
    About half an hour later we stood outside the door to Siân’s bedroom. I was still puzzled about the mark on the dead man’s legs—we hadn’t been able to locate anything that might have hit him or that he might have inadvertently walked into. But we’d all agreed it was impossible to judge, moving slowly in the darkness, just how far a man confident in his own home surroundings could stride in a couple of minutes.
    â€œWe’ll tackle that issue in the morning,” whispered Bud sensibly, “when we can move like normal human beings, and not naughty schoolchildren.”
    I agreed. “I suspect we shouldn’t be late for breakfast. Dilys said half past eight, so we’d better be in the dining room by 8:29 AM at the latest, okay?” We all said our goodnights.

Deg
    BUD KNOCKED AT MY DOOR at exactly 8:23 AM the next morning. Luckily, I was ready, so we walked to Siân’s room. I knocked, but there was no reply. I knocked again and called her name. I dared to open her door a crack, then stuck my head inside. There was no sign of my sister. Her bed was perfectly made, and her room was neat, though I could tell she’d unpacked. I could see right into her bathroom, so I was sure she’d left the room altogether.
    â€œMaybe she went down early,” I said to Bud.
    Almost immediately, Siân appeared, running up the stairs looking flushed and out of breath. Her hair was wet, and her spandex-clad body was entirely soaked.
    My expression, I suspected, spoke volumes, because she didn’t so much greet us as shout at us, “You two go on down. I’ll be there in five minutes. I had to have a run. Needed to clear my head.”
    I heard myself tut just like my mother. “Of course you did, Siân. Can’t stop still for a minute, can you?”
    â€œHa!” she called as she swung past us and into her room. “Still as active as a bump on a log, is she, Bud?” Then she shut the door, and I fumed as Bud and I made our way down the stairs toward what I hoped would be a hearty breakfast.
    â€œShe seems a good deal more chipper this morning. But don’t let what she said get to you,” whispered Bud as we entered the dining room.
    â€œI won’t. I’ll eat my way through it,” I whispered back.
    And, thank goodness, Dilys Jones’s spread was obviously going to give me the chance to do just that. Mair was already seated at the table, nibbling toast, when we arrived. She greeted us warmly and informed us that Alice Cadwallader always breakfasted in her apartment, and that we should help ourselves from the dishes on the sideboards. She also warned us that Dilys cleared everything away promptly at 9:15 AM so we’d better have all we wanted before then.
    A little hesitantly, Bud and I began to open silver-domed dishes to see what was on offer. I was pleased for Bud to see that scrambled eggs were available, and I was delighted for myself that the second lid I opened was to a warming dish laden with perfectly cooked, glistening black pudding and chunks