A Murder in Time (45 page)

Harcourt was right: Gabriel did not look well. His complexion had a pale gray cast, his eyes sunken and bloodshot. As he entered the drawing room, he shot Kendra a sullen look, as though blaming her for his uncle's summons. Then he ignored her.

“Sir? You wished to speak with me?”

“Miss Donovan and I shall need to ask you a few questions. Please sit down, my boy.”

Kendra watched as Gabriel flicked a hungry glance at the decanters on the side table. Then he swallowed hard and obeyed the command by slouching on the sofa opposite Kendra and the Duke.

“Where were you yesterday afternoon?” she asked abruptly.

He gave her a baleful look. “Who are
you
to question your betters, Miss Donovan?”

“
I
am giving Miss Donovan the authority to conduct these interviews, Gabriel,” Aldridge said sharply.

“I apologize, Your Grace. But this is quite preposterous! Do you really believe I am responsible for the dead whores? That is what this is about, is it not? 'Tis madness!”

Kendra eyed him. “Why don't you want to answer the question?”

“Because it is none of your damn business!”

“Gabriel!”

Gabriel surged to his feet. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and began to pace. Kendra recognized nervous energy mixed with anger. And something else.
Desperation.

“I went grouse hunting,” he said.

“We were told you left the hunt early.”

He glared at Kendra. “I was unwell.”

“You returned to the castle?”

“Yes.”

“What time?”

“I did not observe the time.”

“Early afternoon? Late afternoon?”

“Bloody hell, I don't know. Late afternoon, I suppose.”

“Did you leave the hunt and come immediately back to the castle?” Gabriel's sudden stillness had Kendra narrowing her eyes at him. “Don't lie. We'll find out the truth.”

He scowled. Then gave a jerky shrug. “I did not return immediately. I went to the lake.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

The Duke gave a sigh. “Gabe, what did you do at the lake?”

Gabriel raked a hand through his hair, leaving it even more disheveled. He shot Kendra another dirty look as he paced. “Not a bloody thing! 'Tis a pleasant spot for reflection.”

That pleasant spot was a crime scene a week ago
, Kendra thought. She regarded him for a moment, then, coming to a decision, she stood. “What about the previous Sunday night when you said you went to the cockfight. Where did you really go?”

“I went to the cockfight!”

She moved in closer, until she was only a foot away from him, her eyes trained on his. He crossed his arms, an instinctive gesture, Kendra knew, against her invading his space. It was a technique favored by law enforcement during interrogations. It gave the interviewer the upper hand, a position of dominance, and it put the suspect on edge, made him more likely to talk.

She shook her head, and inched in closer. “No. I don't think so.” She could see the sweat filming his brow. “You may have gone there, but you didn't stay there. Where did you go?”

He backed up, bumped against a cabinet. His chin jutted out belligerently, and he glared at her. “I didn't kill that whore!”

“Then tell us where you went.”

“How dare you speak to me like this?”

“Gabe—” the Duke tried.

“Tell me where you went that night,” Kendra persisted, crowding Gabriel.

He said nothing, only looked at her with glittery eyes.

“You don't like women very much, do you, Gabriel?”

He kept silent.

“What's that about anyway?” she goaded. “Something to do with your mother probably? You have mommy issues, Gabriel?”

His reaction was instantaneous. He turned bright red; his eyes bugged out of his head. “How dare you!”

Hot button
, she thought, satisfied. Kendra leaned in, intentionally provocative. “I guess that's a yes. What, did she not love you enough? Or did she love you too much? Was she too controlling? You said it yourself. Women have their place.”

“You—”

“My dear . . .” the Duke said uncertainly.

She ignored him, pressing, “Your mother controlled your life, didn't she? That's it. I'll bet she had you on a strict schedule. When to wake up—”

“Shut up!”

“—when to eat, when to sleep. I'll bet she even chose what clothes you wore.”

“Shut up!”

“Gabriel!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Kendra saw the Duke rise, but she kept her attention fixed on Gabriel. “You're looking a little red, Gabriel. You know what I think? I think you don't want anyone to know the truth—that you actually hated her.”

His breath was coming out in furious puffs. His mouth twisted with rage. His hands, now down at his side, were clenching and unclenching.

“What did she do to you?” Kendra kept up the pressure. “Did she punish you when you didn't do exactly what she said?”

“Damn you! Shut up!
Shut up!
”

“Gabriel—” That was from Aldridge, a low warning.

“Was that why you called her a manipulative bitch? Do you hate women, Gabriel? Do you hate women like you hated your mother?”

“No!”

Something seemed to snap inside him. She saw it in his face, in his burning eyes. Belatedly, a warning bell rang inside her head and she took a hasty step back, but it was already too late. He launched himself at her, his hands finding her neck.

“Shut up! Shut up!”

Kendra stumbled backward, completely unprepared for the attack. The back of her knees hit the sofa, and she fell down, with Gabriel crashing on top of her, his hands like a vise at her throat, squeezing. She bucked and twisted, her fingers trying to pry his hands away, her nails scoring bloody grooves into his flesh. Through the loud buzzing in her ears, she thought she heard the Duke shout. Above her, Gabriel's face loomed red and sweaty.

Monstrous.

Lungs burning, she abandoned her attempt to peel away his hands. Instead, she brought her own hands up to his face, positioning her thumbs against his eyes and digging down viciously.

He howled and reared back, releasing her and rolling onto the floor. He pressed his palms to his eyes, momentarily blinded.

“Jesus Christ!”
Kendra gasped for air, her chest heaving. She caught sight of the Duke standing, his face pale, his blue eyes pinpricks of shock. He was holding a beautiful old vase like a club. One more second and she suspected Gabriel would've been nursing a headache in addition to gouged eyes. Holding a hand to her throat, she got shakily to her feet. Her chest felt as tight as if she'd run a marathon.

“My God!” the Duke whispered, his gaze moving from her throat—which was already showing bruises—to Gabriel.
“My God . . .”

Kendra bent over at the waist, hands on her knees, drawing in great gulps of air.

“Miss Donovan, are you—?”

“Yeah. I'm fine. Just give me a second. A minute. Maybe a
year.
”

She looked across at Gabriel. He was curled up on the floor, his hands against his eyes. Blood oozed from the scratches she'd inflicted.

As she stared, he slowly began to lower his hands. Sanity, she could see, was returning. His eyes were demonic red, the white cornea obliterated from burst blood vessels.

“I didn't . . . oh, my God, I . . . didn't mean to . . .” Horror filled his face. He looked at Aldridge. “Your Grace . . .
Duke
, I do not . . . I do not know what came over me! I
swear!
”

The Duke stared at him with matching horror. Carefully, he set the vase he held on a nearby table. His hands, Kendra noticed, were shaking, almost as much as hers. He looked at her. “Miss Donovan, are you all right?”

“Yeah . . . no lasting damage.” Her voice was only a little hoarse.

His gaze fell to her throat. Fury sharpened his features and he wheeled around to confront his nephew, who was getting to his feet. “Dear God in Heaven, Gabriel! You nearly killed her! What kind of monster are you?”

The flush had receded, leaving Gabriel's face ashen. In contrast, his red eyes stood out, looking even more fiendish.

“I-I beg of you . . . I did not intend harm!”

“You put your hands on her throat! You throttled her! And you have the utter audacity, the bloody
gall
, to tell me that you
did not intend harm!
” Aldridge yelled, staring at his nephew as if he'd never seen him before. “Dear God, Gabriel, did you kill those women?”

Gabriel looked like he was going to cry. “No. I . . . I . . .
no!
”

“How can I believe that? You
attacked
Miss Donovan!”

“I don't know . . . I didn't intend . . .” He shook his head miserably. His fingers trembled as he ran them through his hair.

Kendra felt nauseous. She laid a hand on the Duke's arm. “Enough. Let him go.”

The Duke shot her an astonished look. “I'm thinking of calling the bailiff!”

Panic crossed Gabriel's face. “I swear to you—”

“Let him go,” she repeated. “I'm fine.”

She didn't know who looked more stunned at the dismissal—Gabriel or the Duke.

“Miss Donovan—”

“Please.”

Aldridge frowned. “I am not certain—”

“Please.”

He sighed. “Very well, Miss Donovan. But only because you insist. Gabriel—leave. Go to your room. And stay there.”

Gabriel hesitated only for a second, then he moved toward the door, his gait like that of an old man, measured but unsteady. The aftereffects of an adrenaline rush, she knew—she was feeling the same jittery nerves.

Gabriel opened the door and paused, glancing back at them. He looked as though he wanted to say something, his face twisting, but in the end he simply shook his head and left the room.

The silence was profound.

Aldridge sank down on the sofa as though his legs could no longer support him.

Kendra glanced over at the decanters that Gabriel had been coveting earlier. “I think I could use a drink. Do you want one?”

Aldridge stared at her like she was crazy. “Gabriel attacked you, Miss Donovan!”

“Yeah. I was there.” Screw the sherry, she thought, and selected the more hard-core scotch. She splashed the amber liquid in two glasses, surveyed it in the soft light of the room, then added some more—what the hell? She brought a glass to the Duke.

“Cheers,” she said, taking a hearty swallow. The alcohol burned its way down her tender throat and lit a merry fire in her belly.

“How can you be so calm about this?”

“I'm not calm.” She sat facing the Duke, and lifted one hand. It was trembling violently. “Adrenaline's a bitch.”

He stared at her for a full minute, then shook his head. “Miss Donovan, I don't know what to make of you.”

When she said nothing, he lifted the glass to his lips and tossed back a healthy portion of the scotch. “God. Gabriel . . . I cannot believe it. I simply cannot believe that he attacked you!”

“I deliberately pushed him.”

“There's no excuse for what he did!”

“No. He's definitely got problems. I didn't anticipate his reaction to become so . . . physical.”

“Miss Donovan, this is not amusing! He most likely killed those women! He most certainly would have killed you. I still believe I should send for Mr. Hilliard. Alec . . . Alec will be devastated.”

She took another swallow of scotch. “Gabriel isn't our killer.”

He stared at her, bewildered. “You are now sitting there with bruises on your throat because he tried to
throttle
you!”

“I told you. I pushed his buttons, and he lost control. The unsub wouldn't have lost control so easily. I would've had to apply a lot more pressure than I did just now.”

“You do not believe Gabriel killed those women?”

“I believe if Gabriel
had
killed those women, it would have been in a frenzy. That's not what we're dealing with.” She thought of the calculated cutting of the torso.

Aldridge rubbed a shaking hand over his face. “Dear God. This is incredible.”

“I don't think he's responsible for the murders, but I think he's hiding something.”

“What?”

“I don't know.” She frowned. “I'd like to find out.”

“You truly do not believe he's responsible for the murders?”

“No. I do not.”

“Gabriel just tried to kill you, yet here you are, professing his innocence.”

“Not his innocence,” she stated carefully. “I just don't think he's our killer.”

“You are one hundred percent certain of your hypothesis?”

Kendra considered that. “Not one hundred percent,” she conceded finally. “I'm ninety-nine percent certain. That's pretty good odds.”

“And the other one percent?”

“I could be wrong.”

43

Because she needed to think, Kendra went up to the battlements on the central tower. She welcomed the cool night air against her skin. Above her, the moon was a waxing gibbous. Without the artificial backsplash of a city to mute them, the stars were a billion brilliant speckles scattered across the night sky. The heavens were, she knew, brighter now, the planets and stars closer to earth. Two centuries closer in the expanding universe. She understood why Aldridge had set up his enormous telescope here on the roof.

Absently she massaged her bruised throat. She could still feel Gabriel's hands on her, squeezing, could still see his face contorted above her in mindless rage. She was more than a little annoyed with herself for not having anticipated the attack. She'd known Gabriel was unstable. She'd pushed and pushed until he'd lost control.