'Worth a try,' said Fisher, 'but if he knew of any, he'd have told us by now. Unless he's the murderer, in which case he'd only lie anyway.'
'This is true,' said Hawk. 'Let's check Blackstone's room anyway, just for the hell of it.'
Fisher groaned wearily, and followed him down the hall and back into Blackstone's room. They moved slowly round the walls, tapping every foot or so and listening for a hollow sound. They didn't find one. They tried the floor, in case there was a trapdoor, and even had a good look at the ceiling, but to no avail. They stood together by the door and glared about them. Hawk shook his head irritably.
'If there is a secret passage here, it must be bloody well hidden.'
'Secret passages usually are,' said Fisher dryly. 'If they weren't, they wouldn't be secret, would they?'
'You're so sharp you'll cut yourself one of these days,' said Hawk. He took one last look round the room, and then frowned suddenly. 'Wait a minute; Something's wrong.'
Fisher looked round the room, but couldn't see anything out of place. 'What do you mean, wrong?'
'I don't know. Something here isn't quite the way I remember it.' He glared about him, trying to work out what had changed. And then he looked down at Blackstone's body, and the answer came to him. 'The wineglass! It's gone!'
He got down on his knees beside Blackstone's body. The wine stain on the carpet was still there, but the glass Blackstone had been drinking from was gone. Hawk peered under the bed in case the glass had rolled away, but there was no sign of it.
'Was it there the first time we checked this room?' asked Fisher.
'I don't know. I didn't look. Did you see it?'
'No. I didn't look either. I wouldn't have noticed it was gone now if you hadn't spotted it.'
Hawk straightened up slowly. 'Well, at least that tells us something.'
'Like what?' said Fisher.
'It tells us the wineglass was important,' said Hawk. 'If it wasn't, why bother to remove it? In some way, that wineglass must have played an important part in Blackstone's death.'
'The wine wasn't poisoned,' said Fisher. 'Gaunt told us that.'
'Yeah,' said Hawk. 'He also said he was going to take a sample of the wine so that he could run some tests on it. We'd better check that he did.'
'If he didn't, we're in bother.'
'Right.' Hawk scowled fiercely. 'Why should the wine be important? I'm missing something, Isobel, I can feel it. It's important, and I'm missing it.'
Fisher waited patiently as Hawk concentrated, trying to grasp the elusive thought, but in the end he just shook his head.
'No. Whatever it is, I can't see it. Not yet, anyway. Let's go downstairs. I want to check the lower rooms as well, before I talk to Gaunt about the wine sample.'
'And if he didn't take one?'
'Burn that bridge when we come to it.' Hawk looked down at the two bodies lying side by side on the floor. 'I've got a bad feeling about this, Isobel. I don't think our murderer is finished with us yet.'
Hawk thought furiously as he and Fisher made their way down the stairs and into the hall. He'd gone about as far as he could on his own. If he was going to get any further, he had to have more information from Gaunt and his guests, and that meant more cooperation on their part. Some would cooperate, some might, and some wouldn't. In theory, he could order them to do anything and they were legally obliged to obey him, but in reality he had to be very careful about what orders he gave. Most of his suspects were important people in Haven. They had a great deal of clout, if they chose to use it. Hawk worried his lower lip between his teeth. If and when he felt able to accuse someone, he'd better have overwhelming evidence to back him up. Nothing else would do.
Unfortunately, evidence was in very short supply at the moment. All he had were endless theories, none of which seemed to lead anywhere. He couldn't be sure of anything anymore. He stopped suddenly at the foot of the stairs, and looked down the hall at the closed front door. Fisher stopped beside him and looked at him curiously.
'Hawk, what is it?'
'I just had an intriguing thought,' said Hawk. 'We've been assuming that no one could get in or out of this house because of the isolation spell. Right?'
'Right.'
'How do we know there is an isolation spell?'
'Gaunt said so. And besides, we felt the effects when he cast it.'
Hawk shook his head. 'Gaunt has said a lot of things. We felt a spell being cast, all right, but how do we know it was an isolation spell? Could have been anything. You go into the parlor and talk to Gaunt a minute. Keep him occupied. I'm going to open that front door and see if we really are isolated from the outside world.'
Fisher nodded reluctantly. 'All right. But you be careful, Hawk.'
Hawk grinned, and set off down the hall as Fisher went into the parlor. The hall was large and gloomy, and the shadows seemed very dark. His footsteps echoed loudly on the quiet. He finally came to a halt before the closed front door, and looked it over carefully. It looked normal enough. He reached out his left hand and gently pressed his fingers to the wood. It felt strangely cold to the touch, and seemed almost to pulse under his fingertips. Hawk snatched his hand away and rubbed his fingers together. They were still cold. Hawk braced himself, and took a firm hold of the door handle. It seemed to stir in his hand, and he tightened his grip. He turned the handle all the way round, and then eased the door open a crack. The hall was suddenly very cold. Hawk opened the door a little wider and looked out. And outside the door there was nothing; nothing at all.
Hawk clung desperately to the door. It was like standing on a narrow ledge and looking out over a bottomless drop. No matter where he looked there was only the dark, as though the house were falling on and on into an endless night. A cold wind blew from nowhere, searing his bare face and hands. Hawk swallowed sickly, and with a great effort tore his eyes away from the dark. He stepped back, and slammed the door shut. He moved quickly away from the door and leaned against the nearest wall while he got his breath back. His hands and face were numb from the cold, but feeling quickly returned as the summer heat inside the house drove the cold out of him. He smiled slightly. If nothing else, he had established that the house was very definitely isolated from the outside world. He wondered how Fisher was getting on.
When Fisher had entered the parlor, the assembled guests met her with a frosty silence. They were sitting together in a group, having apparently discovered that there was comfort as well as safety in numbers. They made an ill-assorted group, with some fully dressed and some still in their nightclothes. (Catherine Blackstone was once again sitting by the empty fireplace. She'd regained some of her composure, but her face was still very pale and her eyes were red and swollen. She held a handkerchief in one hand as though she'd forgotten it was there. Stalker sat beside her, drinking thirstily from a newly filled glass of wine. Lord and Lady Hightower sat together, staring into the empty fireplace, both lost in their own thoughts. Visage had pulled her chair up next to Dorimant's, and she leaned tiredly against him, his arm round her shoulders. The young witch looked frightened and confused, while Dorimant looked stubbornly protective. Gaunt was sitting nearest the door, and stood up as Fisher entered.
'Well, Captain Fisher, what have you found?'
'Nothing particularly helpful, sir sorcerer. Judging from the extent of his wounds, it seems likely Edward Bowman was attacked by a madman or an animal. Or by someone who wanted it to look like an animal attack.'
Gaunt raised an eyebrow. 'Why should anyone want to do that?'
'Beats me,' said Fisher. 'Nothing in this case seems to make sense.'
'Some things never do, girl,' said Stalker. 'You learn that as you get older.'
Fisher looked at him sharply. There had been something in his voice, something; bitter. Stalker finished off the last of the wine and stared moodily into the empty glass. Fisher turned back to Gaunt.
'Earlier on this evening. Hawk asked you to run some tests on the wine Blackstone was drinking just before his death,' she said quietly. 'Did you take a sample to test?'
'I'm afraid not,' said Gaunt. 'I was going to do it first thing in the morning.'
'Damn.'
'Is there a problem, Captain Fisher?'
'You could say that. Someone has removed the wineglass from Blackstone's room.'
