by Amanda Quick
Delbridge hated having been obliged to introduce the viper to his tailor, let alone invite him to an occasional social affair such as the party tonight, but there was no help for it. Allowing Lancing to hover on the fringes of his upper-class world was the price of doing business with the Midnight Monster.
Delbridge looked at him. “What went wrong here tonight? The plan to get rid of Miss Stubton was simple and straightforward. You were to escort her back to her town house after the party tonight and get rid of her there. Why the devil did you kill her right here in my house? Don’t you realize the risk you took?”
Molly Stubton had been a strikingly beautiful woman. Her smoldering sensuality combined with her skills in the bedroom had made her useful as a seductress. Delbridge had employed her to learn the secrets of some of his rivals. She had performed her role brilliantly. Lately, however, she had become difficult. She had begun making annoying demands, even going so far as to hint at blackmail. The time had come to get rid of her but Lancing had bungled the business.
Lancing raised one shoulder in a graceful shrug. “For some reason she came up here. I suspect she planned to meet one of the guests. I followed her to see what she was about. When she saw me her fear was as thick as perfume.” Lancing’s mouth curved in a reminiscent smile. “She guessed what was to come. There was no way she would have agreed to let me escort her home. I had no choice but to silence her immediately.”
“Even if you felt you had to act on the spot, there are neater methods,” Delbridge pointed out. “Why the devil did you cut her throat and leave her here? What if one of the other guests had come into the gallery, discovered the body and rushed downstairs to sound the alarm? I would have had no choice but to summon the police.”
“There was a great deal of blood,” Lancing said, still smiling. “It utterly ruined my coat and splashed my trousers. I went to one of the bedrooms to clean up and change my clothes.”
Suspicion surged through Delbridge. “You brought a second set of clothes with you tonight?”
“Of course. I always carry a change of clothing when I know I will be amusing myself with one of my little entertainments.”
In other words he had planned all along to kill Molly here in the mansion, not in her town house. The beast had no doubt savored the thrill of getting away with murder in a house full of gentlemen who considered themselves his social superiors. Delbridge suppressed a sigh. Hulsey was right, Lancing was neither entirely sane nor entirely controllable. The thing was, he was extremely useful.
“How long did it take you to clean yourself and put your clothing to rights?” Delbridge asked, striving for patience.
Lancing gave another delicate shrug. “Twenty minutes perhaps.”
Delbridge set his back teeth very tightly together. “Yet you did not come to tell me that the crystal was gone and that the two guards were unconscious until three-thirty.”
“Nancy Palgrave came looking for me.” Lancing smirked. “When I left the bedroom, I found her on the first-floor landing. Naturally I invited her into one of the bedrooms. What else could a gentleman do under the circumstances?”
That probably ought to count as another one of Lancing’s weaknesses, Delbridge thought. The hunt and the kill aroused him sexually. Finding an attractive woman waiting for him would have been too much temptation for him to resist.
More time had been lost because it had been impossible to attend to the crisis until the last of the guests had departed. In addition it had been necessary to wait until the staff that had been hired for the evening had also left. He had then sent his housekeeper and her husband, the only two servants who actually lived in the mansion, to their beds. They had served him faithfully for years; both knew better than to question his orders.
A thought occurred to him. He paused in his pacing and frowned.
“Perhaps the stone was stolen earlier in the evening before you followed Miss Stubton up here,” he suggested.
“Perhaps.” Lancing was unconcerned, as usual, with minor details.
“Are you certain you can tell me nothing about the thief?” Delbridge asked for what must have been the third or fourth time.
Lancing went to stand in front of the cabinet that had held the crystal. “I’ve explained to you that I can only detect the spore left by intense emotions. Fear. Rage. Passion. That sort of thing. I don’t sense any of those here.”
“But the thief must have experienced some very strong emotion when he removed the crystal and inhaled the vapor,” Delbridge insisted. “Shock? Fear? Something.”
Lancing cradled the lock in one long-fingered hand. “I told you, this is too murky to read. A lot of people have touched it in recent days, including you.” He paused, suddenly and uncharacteristically thoughtful. “But now that I concentrate I believe I can sense a fresh whisper of power clinging to it.”
Delbridge felt the surge of energy around Lancing when the killer unleashed his paranormal senses to examine the lock. Although he was braced for the experience, it was nevertheless unnerving. A distinct chill went down his spine. Even Hulsey, whose talents lay in the scientific realm, must have sensed the killer’s dark aura. He took a hasty step back.
“Not emotion?” Delbridge prodded.
“No, just a trace of energy,” Lancing said. “Odd. I’ve never before picked up that sort of spore. Whoever he was, he must be very strong, indeed.”
“Another hunter perhaps?”
“I don’t know.” Lancing appeared intrigued. “But where there is that much power, there is a capacity for violence. Whoever he is, he is dangerous.”
“As dangerous as you?” Delbridge asked softly.
Lancing smiled his beatific smile. “No one is as dangerous as I am, Delbridge. You know that.”
Hulsey cleared his throat. “Excuse me, your lordship, but there are a couple of logical explanations for the lack of the sort of spore that Mr. Lancing is sensitive to.”
Delbridge and Lancing both looked at him. "Well?” Delbridge prompted, impatient as always with the scientist.
“The vapor would have exploded in the thief’s face at the instant he picked up the pouch that held the crystal,” Hulsey said. “He might not have been touching the cabinet or the shelf at that point, if you see what I mean. Just the pouch.”
Lancing nodded. “Makes sense. If he didn’t have physical contact with the cabinet after he triggered, the trap he wouldn’t have left his spore.”
Delbridge frowned. “Regardless of whether or not he left any traces of his emotional state at the time of the theft, he would have succumbed to the effects of the vapor shortly thereafter. Ten minutes or fifteen minutes at most.”
“Time enough to get out of the mansion,” Lancing said.
“But he wouldn’t have been able to travel far.”
“Might have had some help,” Lancing suggested. “A companion, perhaps, who was able to get him away from this place.”
“Bloody hell,” Delbridge muttered. The thought that there might have been a second man was extremely worrisome.
Hulsey coughed in a diffident sort of way. He looked at Delbridge. “If I might remind you, sir, once the drug took hold, the thief would have become a grave threat to a companion.”
“Yes, yes, I understand,” Delbridge said brusquely. “He likely would have attacked anyone who happened to be in the vicinity, just as Bloomfield and Ivington are reported to have done.” He slapped a hand against a nearby statue, frustrated. “Bloody hell, he should be dead by now, just as the other two are. His body must be out there in the woods somewhere.”
“If there was someone else with the thief,” Lancing said, smiling again, “and if that other man had the presence of mind to kill his associate when the madness struck, it’s entirely possible that he left the body in the woods and took the crystal.”
Delbridge and Hulsey both stared at him.
Lancing swept out a hand in a small arc. “It is what I would have done, had I been the second man.”
&nb
sp; “No doubt,” Delbridge said dryly.
“Hell,” Lancing continued with an air of good cheer, “if I had been the second man, I probably would have killed my associate once we had the crystal, regardless of whether or not he showed signs of madness. Why share such a valuable item?”
Delbridge resisted the urge to pick up a vase and hurl it against the wall. He had to recover the damned crystal, and he had to do it quickly. He had already sent word to the leader of the Third Circle that he had found the relic. A demonstration of its power was scheduled to take place in a few days. If all went well when he presented the aurora stone to the members, he would be formally inducted into the Order. Without it, he would be denied admission.
He had to find the crystal. He had worked too hard, invested too much time and money, taken too many risks to fail now.
Lancing angled his sculpted chin at the body. “Shall I get rid of her?”
Delbridge frowned. “We don’t have time to dig a grave right now. In any event, it is pouring rain. The ground will be too muddy.”
Hulsey looked troubled. “Surely you don’t intend to leave the body there on the floor.”
Delbridge swung around on his heel and studied his collection of stone sarcophagi. “We will put her in one of those. She will keep safely enough until we can bury her out in the woods. The servants know better than to enter this gallery unless they are instructed to do so by me.”
In point of fact, the servants never entered the museum willingly. None of them possessed any measurable paranormal talents, but Delbridge knew that every individual was endowed with some degree of sensitivity, whether or not he or she was aware of it. That sensitivity manifested itself in the forms of dreams and intuition. The contents of the museum, massed together as they were, generated enough disturbing energy to affect even the most insensitive people to some degree. Earlier tonight it had amused him to watch his guests try to conceal their distaste for the relics.
There was a grinding, grating, stone-on-stone rumble when Lancing shoved aside the heavy lid of the sarcophagus. He looked at Hulsey and smiled.
“Give me a hand with the body,” he said.
Hulsey started violently. Lancing rarely spoke to him directly. It unnerved him. He pushed his spectacles higher on his nose and then, with great reluctance, he stepped forward.
Lancing strolled toward the dead woman. His path took him near the ancient altar. Absently he reached out to touch it. Delbridge took note of the small action. He’d seen Lancing touch other relics in the gallery in that same affectionate manner, as though he were stroking a cat. Unlike most who entered the museum, the Monster relished the dark energy given off by the relics.
In that way, we are alike, Delbridge thought. It gave him an uncomfortable chill. He did not care for the notion that he had anything in common with such a low-born individual.
Lancing halted abruptly, his hand still resting on the altar.
“What is it?” Delbridge asked quickly. “Do you sense something?”
“Fear.” Lancing mouthed the word as though it were the rarest of spices. “A woman’s fear.”
Delbridge scowled. “Molly’s fear of you?”
“No. She tasted much different.” Lancing moved his fingertips across the stone surface. “This woman was not in mindless, hysterical panic as Molly was. She was still in control. Nevertheless she was very frightened.”
“You’re certain the person was a female?” Delbridge asked sharply.
“Oh, yes.” Lancing was practically crooning now. “This is a woman’s sweet fear.”
Delbridge hesitated. “Perhaps you sense one of the prostitutes who were in this house tonight. They accompanied my guests on the tour.”
“So did I,” Lancing reminded him. “None of the women were frightened, not as this woman was. Believe me when I assure you that I would most certainly have noticed.”
“What the devil happened in here?” Delbridge asked, bewildered.
“Don’t you understand?” Lancing asked, eyes heating with a feral lust. “There were, indeed, two thieves here tonight. The second one was a female.”
“A woman came here to steal my crystal?” Delbridge was dumbfounded. “Surely no female would have the courage, let alone the skill, to risk breaking into my mansion.”
Hulsey frowned again. “Do not forget, she had the assistance of a man.”
“Why would he bring a woman along?” Delbridge demanded, baffled. “It makes no sense. She would only put him at greater risk of discovery.”
Hulsey took off his spectacles and began to polish them, very thoughtful now. “Perhaps he needed her.”
“For what purpose?” Delbridge shot back.
“According to my research into the subject, almost all those who have been known to possess a talent for accessing the power of crystals have been female,” Hulsey said, falling into his lecturing tones. “It may have been that the man brought this particular woman with him tonight to help him find the stone.”
“It was the man who left that fresh trace of energy on the cabinet,” Lancing said, very certain. “Presumably he will now be either dead or trapped in the madness of a nightmare.”
Hulsey put his spectacles back on his nose and adjusted them with his forefinger. He fixed Delbridge with a steady stare. “It appears you will be searching for a woman.”
“But we know nothing about her,” Delbridge said plaintively.
“That is not entirely true, sir.” Hulsey knitted his bushy brows. “We know that it is quite likely that she can work crystal energy.”
A SHORT TIME LATER Delbridge stood with Hulsey in the kitchen. It was still raining, but the heavy clouds were starting to lighten to a dull gray as dawn arrived.
He looked down at Paddon and Shuttle, the two guards he had hired for the evening. Both were sprawled on the canvas that covered the floor.
Delbridge had rarely had occasion to visit this particular room of the mansion. He was a gentleman; gentlemen did not concern themselves with the running of their households. This morning he was vaguely surprised by the amount of grease stains on the canvas. It made him wonder about the cleanliness of the food his housekeeper served him.
“The intruders must have drugged them,” he said to Hulsey. “It is the only explanation.”
Hulsey, noticeably calmer now that Lancing was no longer around, prodded one of the guards with the toe of his shoe. “Perhaps.”
“We can only hope that the effects eventually wear off. If they die on us we may never get any answers. Hulsey, we must recover that crystal.”
“I assure you, I am as concerned as you are, sir.”
“As you damn well should be. It cost me a fortune to set you up in that laboratory. If I don’t get that crystal back, I won’t have any reason to continue financing your experiments, now will I?”
Hulsey flinched. Delbridge took some satisfaction from that reaction. Hulsey’s weaknesses were as glaring as Lancing’s. The only thing that mattered to the scientist was his research.
“We will find it, sir,” Hulsey said quickly.
“We have only a few days until I will be required to deliver the stone to the leader of the Third Circle. If I fail in the task I will not be given a second chance to apply for membership. The leader was damnably clear about that.”
“I understand, sir.”
Frustration welled up inside Delbridge again. “I have come so far. Taken so many risks. Months of planning. Two high-ranking gentlemen dead. The crystal in my hands at last.” He knotted his fingers into a fist. “And now it is gone.”
Hulsey did not respond. He was studying the two men on the floor.
“I think Mr. Shuttle is stirring,” he said.
Delbridge looked down. Sure enough, Shuttle was moving, opening his eyes.
Paddon’s eyes popped open too. He stared blankly at the ceiling.
“Interesting,” Hulsey said. “I do not know of any drug that allows a sleeper to awaken quite like this. It is as if both men
were instructed to open their eyes precisely at dawn.”
Shuttle and Paddon sat up and looked around, taking in the sight of the large iron cooking range, wooden tub, zinc basin, long table and racks of knives as though they had never seen the like before.
“What the devil?” Paddon muttered.
“Get to your feet, both of you,” Delbridge ordered.
Shuttle and Paddon climbed heavily to their feet. They looked like what they were, a pair of tough, violent men from the streets who made their living selling their services as bodyguards and enforcers. Neither was particularly intelligent. Delbridge had believed that to be an asset when he had employed them. Now he was having second thoughts.
“What in blazes happened out in the gardens?” he demanded.
“Nothing in particular, sir,” Shuttle said, running one beefy hand through his hair. “Quiet night. No trouble at all.” He frowned. “Don’t remember coming in here, though.”
“Must have popped in to ask the cook for coffee to help us stay awake,” Paddon said. But he looked and sounded rattled.
“Neither of you walked into the kitchen of your own accord,” Delbridge said. “We found both of you asleep at your posts. While you were napping, a pair of intruders made off with a particularly valuable artifact. You were hired to make sure that sort of thing did not happen while I was entertaining my guests. What do you have to say for yourselves?”
The two stared at him, dumbfounded. Then Paddon scowled.
“We just told you, yer lordship, nothing happened. Don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”
Delbridge looked at Hulsey for guidance.
Hulsey fixed his attention on Paddon. “What is the last thing you remember before you woke up a moment ago?”
Paddon shrugged. “I was walking through the garden, making my rounds. I remember thinking that we’d likely have rain before morning and then—” He stopped, shaking his head. “Then I woke up here.”
