“I appreciate it,” I said. If Tom thought I hadn’t noticed his slightly disapproving tone with the words “a young single man’s life” he was wrong, but that sort of thing was currently the least of our worries.
He looked at me, frowned, and said, “Her name is Bridget, but I’d rather not talk about it.”
Bridget, huh? “Sure.”
The bustle that took place in the bookshop for the next half an hour or so was surreal. We should not have been moving out of the way of the police; there should not have been blackened marks of fingerprint powder around and on the front door. There should not have been a dead body in the close; someone who, it seemed, was killed while trying to get inside the bookshop. There should not have been a skull carried out in a see-through bag by one of the anonymous crime scene officers. And watching the filled body bag being rolled to the ambulance might have been one of the most soul-aching moments I’d ever experienced. None of this was supposed to happen.
But it had.
She’d been so alive, complaining about her dark roots, even. Life was fleeting. You should enjoy each moment because you just never knew. Were these still clichés when they were such truths?
I tried not to cry, not because I felt like I needed to be strong, but because I felt like I needed to be smart. Something had happened the night before that must point to a killer. It was right there.
I just had to remember what it was.
SIX
Inspector Pierce remained outside a long time, watching, directing, discussing. He was definitely in charge.
Tom and Gaylord sat at the back table with Hamlet. I didn’t know what they were talking about, but I noticed they’d been looking at some old maps of Inverness that Hamlet had spread over the table the day before. Rosie sat at the front desk and Hector on the desk’s edge watching the goings-on with human-like blinks of curiosity. Edwin watched everything too, but he stood by the front window, his attention sometimes focused inside the shop with the rest of us, sometimes outside the window.
“Edwin,” I said as I approached him. “I’m so sorry for all of this.”
“Lass, you didn’t do anything wrong. None of this is your fault.”
“I know we locked the doors, but I can’t help but think that if Tom and I hadn’t come here last night, this might have not happened. Maybe we were followed, and … I don’t know.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Edwin said. “I think my secrets are becoming too unruly, Delaney.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that he might have that interpretation. “No, Edwin, it’s not because the warehouse is supposed to be a secret. We don’t know all the circumstances yet, but it’s definitely not that.”
If the secret of the warehouse had led to Mallory’s murder, then we were all at fault because of our insistence on keeping the mystery, the secret, going. I didn’t want that to be the truth.
Edwin gave a throaty harrumph and then leaned a little closer as he lowered his voice. “You know about the skull room at the university? I believe it’s part of the medical school.”
I blinked. “No.” I looked toward the stairs. Inspector Pierce had gone over to the dark side again, this time with two other investigators.
“Of course not. Why should you? There’s a room full of skulls at the university; I think the medical school professors are in charge of it. It’s not open tae the public, but there for study and research. It’s available tae visit by appointment only.”
“And a skull by the body. That’s one more reason to suspect Dr. Eban,” I said.
“Is it?” Edwin said. “Or does that feel a wee bit like a red herring?”
“The killer put the skull there to keep the police on the scent of the medical school professor, or professors? That’s possible. It does feel obvious.”
“Aye. Whatever it means, I hope the police will put together where it came from quickly. All of the skulls there have a mark on their inside designating where they’re from.”
“You’ve seen the skull room?”
“I’ve contributed two skulls.”
I blinked.
“Well, not … I acquired them from medical schools in Germany. It was … it’s a long story. Aye, I’ve seen the room. It’s spectacular.”
“Did you mention it to Inspector Pierce?”
“No. I didn’t think about it until a few minutes ago. I’ll tell him before he leaves, but if they’re any good at their jobs, they already know.” Edwin looked back toward the stairs. “He wants you and me tae go with him to the warehouse when he’s done with the other officers.”
I nodded. “Good. I’d like to look in that drawer.”
“Aye.” He squinted back toward the stairs. “I’m surprised they haven’t insisted already, but they seem methodical. Maybe they feel other things are more important.”
“You’re thinking something else?”
“Did Mallory have anything tae do with the books the other two brought in? The medical books?”
“I don’t think so. They were from Rena’s father, according to what she and Sophie said. Why?”
“Offhand, I can’t make a connection tae murder, but a couple of strange things have happened since the day they brought them in. I thought it was all coincidence, but now I wonder.” He glanced around again. “There was a call after they arrived. Someone was looking for those books specifically.”
“Sounds like a good coincidence. Hamlet says stuff like that happens all the time,” I said. “Did they want to buy them?”
“He said he was ‘interested,’ but I told him we didn’t have what he was looking for.”
“Why?”
“It was too easy, Delaney. It’s happened before, aye, but these books are extremely rare. There was a tone tae the gentleman’s voice that made me think he was searching for answers, not books—he didn’t sound like a typical customer. I began to wonder if the books had been stolen, but I haven’t done anything about it because … well, the women are your friends
