Page 113 of Diamonds

Wait.

Chester.Tabbit.

C.T.

Could it be…?

“Chet, what’s your middle name?”

Chet twists his lips.“That’s a bit of a personal question, Mr.Hathaway.Whyever would you be asking?”

“I think you know why,” I say.

Alissa grabs my arm.“What does this have to do with anything?”

“Just answer the damned question, Chet.”

His eyebrows bounce once, twice.“It’s Aristotle, Mr.Hathaway.My middle name is Aristotle.”

“Chester Aristotle Tabbit.”I reach into my wallet and pull out the folded-up riddle that led us to May’s head.I gesture to the three letters at the bottom of the note, the ones that were erased but left enough of a mark to be deciphered.“C.A.T.We thought this was an additional hint, that we were supposed to look for a statue of a cat or something, but it wasn’t.”

“It wasn’t?”Chet asks.

“No.It was a signature.You signed this riddle with your initials but then thought better of it.You erased it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr.Hathaway.”

“Yes you fuckingdo.” I push the piece of paper into his grinning mug.“You got this note to me.Probably when I pushed you up against the wall last weekend.You would have had pretty easy access to the inner pocket of my jacket.”

Chet cocks his head.“I suppose stranger things have happened.”

Alissa gasps.“Oh my God.”She reaches into her purse, pulls out the small manila envelope with the playing cards in it.“Did you put these in my purse as well?When I left it open in the hospital?”

“You fucking creep.You followed my girlfriend to the place where she works?”

Chet lifts a bony finger.“You seem to be confused.I don’t leave this desk under any circumstances during my shifts here at Aces.How could I possibly place a few playing cards into a woman’s purse?”He focuses his gaze on Alissa.“You came straight here that very day, and I was here.”

She points at him.“You don’t know which day that was.I didn’t say.”

“It’s my job to know what day it was, Miss Wonder.”

“No.”I place my hands on Chet’s pink desk, lean over him—no easy feat since he’s at least six foot seven.“You slipped up.First by writing your initials on this riddle, and then by revealing just now you knew which day the cards were left in Alissa’s purse.You’re on our side.You want Rouge to go down for what she’s done just as much as we do.”I dig into my pocket, fish out the ruby-encrusted key.“I bet you know where this goes, too.”

Chet widens his eyes.“Looks like you found your way down the river of tears, Mr.Hathaway.”He checks his watch.“Took you long enough, didn’t it?Your father has been dead for well over a decade.”

“Did he set this plan in motion with you?”

Chet darts his gaze around the room.“I have no interest in the schemes of a failed politician.With all due respect to the Hathaway legacy, of course.”

“Bullshit.”I slam my fists onto Chet’s tiny desk, making it shake.“He somehow got his hands on this key.You helped him do it.And then, when I was taking far too long to figure out his riddle, you slipped me a new one.You knew that if we knew what was going on with May?—”

“May?”

I roll my eyes.“The Seven of Spades.But stop playing dumb.You knew that once we found out what happened to May, it would light a fire under us.Finally get us to finish the work my father started right before he was poisoned.”

“It was my impression that your father died of a heart attack.”

“Once again, shut the fuck up.He was poisoned by Rouge, or one of her minions.He knew his days were numbered, so he set up a trail of breadcrumbs for me to follow.”