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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The One You’d Never Suspect

When she entered the room on Sub-Four, Morrigan gasped. The rest of Unit 919 were hovering by a large oval table, staring in mute astonishment at Cadence’s back as she wrote feverishly on the blackboard.

Morrigan didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. All four walls of the tiny classroom were plastered with the labour of Cadence’s new obsession: indecipherable handwritten notes on torn-out notebook paper, every newspaper clipping they’d already seen plus dozens more and – most impressively – a huge, hand-drawn map of the Silver District’s Greater Circle, with the Paramour Pleasure Gardens at the centre. She thought Cadence must have copied it directly from a library book or used the Living Map as a reference, because the details were spot on.

The blackboard was a chaotic jumble of notes, names and questions such as DUSTY COAT MAN / NO RSVP and WEAPON??? and, bizarrely, DOLPHINS – IS THIS ANYTHING? ASK A DOLPHINWUN .

Morrigan frowned, wondering when Detective Blackburn had last eaten or slept. How had she managed all this in three days?

Dropping the chalk and dusting off her hands, Cadence finally noticed their arrival. ‘Oh good, you’re all here. Let’s get started.’

‘Wow,’ Hawthorne said as he slipped into a chair between Morrigan and Lam. ‘This is, um. Wow.’

‘Been busy, have you, Cadence?’ There was the hint of a laugh in Mahir’s question, but under her sharp gaze he ducked his head and hastily took a seat.

Cadence shifted her weight from foot to foot, vibrating with determined energy, and cleared her throat.

‘What do we know about the death of Dario Eugenio Rinaldi?’

With this dramatic opening, they all sat up a little straighter. Arch took out a pen and paper, ready to take notes.

‘Our victim was killed by stabbing on the tenth Saturday of Autumn of Three, approximately ten hours after marrying Modestine Evelyn Darling. The murder happened somewhere between here’ – Cadence pointed at the northern boathouse on the map of the Paramour Pleasure Gardens – ‘and here’ – her finger trailed along the canal from the boathouse, passing the Okwara, Devereaux, Choi, Beauregard and Fairchild Bridges, before stopping at Darling Bridge in the south-west – ‘between approximately ten minutes to and ten minutes after midnight. The body was found in the Rinaldi family’s golden dragon boat floating on the canal. We don’t yet know the murder weapon – or even whether it’s been found – but we can assume it was a dagger, knife, sword, knitting needle, skewer, hat pin or some other sharp object.’

Cadence began to pace, hands clasped behind her back. Unit 919 might have been watching a tennis match in slow-motion, the way their eyes stayed glued to her.

‘Those are the facts,’ she continued in an impressively sombre tone. ‘And now we venture into speculation. To solve this case, there are two important questions we must answer. The first is, who murdered Dario Rinaldi? The second—’

‘It still might actually have been the wedding planner, you know,’ Morrigan reminded her.

‘I know. Shush. We’ll come back to that. The second question might help us answer the first, which makes it just as important.’ She picked up the chalk and wrote on a clean patch of blackboard:

MYSTERY DRAGONRIDER?

‘If it wasn’t Dario Rinaldi – and it clearly wasn’t, as he was quite dead at the time – then who was the imposter riding Alights on the Water Like a Seabird in his place? Did they – or someone they know – kill Dario so they could take his saddle in the next summer tournament? Or maybe it was just a poorly timed practical joke that had nothing to do with the murder? Even so, they could have seen or heard something suspicious, something important . We must find out the mystery rider’s identity.’ She looked around owlishly at each of them, before landing on Hawthorne. ‘How much of the Winter Trials are you planning to watch?’

He grinned. ‘All of it! My Uncle Angus gave me a season ticket for my birthday.’

‘Perfect. I’m assigning this part of the investigation to you, then. You said it yourself: a dragonrider skilled enough to write that message in the sky must be competing in the Winter Trials. Think you can figure out who it was?’

‘Yeah!’ Hawthorne enthused. ‘Can I wear a disguise?’

‘Must you?’

‘Maybe just a cool hat?’

‘Fine.’

‘And a magnifying glass?’

‘What for?’

‘Dunno,’ he shrugged happily. ‘Clues. Ooh, can I have a plucky sidekick?’ Arch stuck his hand in the air and Hawthorne’s eyes lit up. ‘Perfect! You’re hired.’

‘Oh … er, actually, I was just going to ask, um …’ Arch shifted anxiously in his seat, glancing at Cadence. ‘Isn’t this all a bit … dangerous? What if the mystery dragonrider was the murderer and they see Hawthorne investigating and realise what he’s up to and—’

‘Point taken.’ Cadence sighed. ‘Hawthorne, I know it’s not your usual style, but try to be subtle , yeah? There’s no need for disguises, magnifying glasses or plucky sidekicks.’

‘How does it work, finding a new rider?’ asked Mahir. ‘Can anyone have a go?’

‘Nah, no way.’ Hawthorne shook his head vehemently. ‘Not for a dragon like Alights . She’s too valuable and much too temperamental. It could be risky to upset her with a bunch of new riders all at once. Nan reckons they’ll keep her stabled for a month or two while they make a shortlist of the best competitors, then let them try their luck in the last few weeks. The Rinaldis only need to register her rider by the final event: whoever takes her saddle on the last day of the Winter Trials will be her official partner in next summer’s tournament.’

‘Risky to leave it that late, though, isn’t it?’ Mahir pointed out. ‘Aren’t the best riders and dragons usually paired up by about halfway through the trials?’

‘I think it’ll be different this year. My guess is that some of the very best riders will put off signing any new contracts until they’ve had their chance with Alights. ’ Hawthorne shrugged. ‘Anyway, the Rinaldis don’t really have a choice. Dragons go into mourning when their riders die, just like humans, and you’ve got to leave them alone to grieve, ’cos they’re dangerous when they’re unhappy. The usual rule is that all dragons must fly at least every second Sunday of the Winter Trials to stay on the leaderboard, but Nan says the FSDA have given the Rinaldis special permission—’

‘FSDA?’ Cadence interrupted, holding up a finger.

‘Free State Dragonsport Association,’ he said, and she wrote it on the blackboard. ‘They said the Rinaldis can keep Alights stabled for up to eight weeks without penalty, and they’ll keep her ranked according to average past performance. Which means she’ll stay number one for the first two-thirds of the trials, without even flying. Heaps of people are angry about that, because it’s like giving the Rinaldis a free pass, but nobody’ll say anything.’

‘Because it would be insensitive?’ asked Arch. ‘After Dario’s death?’

Hawthorne snorted. ‘No, because they don’t have the guts. The Rinaldis are the richest and most powerful stable in dragonsport right now, and nobody wants to get on their bad side. People might have loved Dario, but his brother is famous for being a big jerk with a bad temper.’ Morrigan and Cadence shared a thoughtful look, but let Hawthorne carry on. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. They might be getting a free pass, but if they don’t find the right rider for Alights then the Rinaldis can kiss the summer tournament trophy goodbye.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Francis, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. ‘Isn’t the summer tournament a separate competition?’

‘Yeah, but the rider-and-dragon team that tops the leaderboard this winter will have a huge advantage over their competitors next summer.’

‘How?’

‘Psychologically, for starters.’ Hawthorne leaned back to look up at the ceiling as he warmed to the topic. ‘But financially, too. The higher up the leaderboard a rider is, the more endorsement deals they’ll be offered. That means sponsorship money, better kit and better training opportunities … but, more importantly, a higher profile, which gives them the ability to negotiate a bigger cut of the prize money from their stable. And for the dragon owners, it means a bigger stake in ticket sales and betting proceeds from the Trollosseum and the FSDA.’

‘So … a higher spot on the leaderboard in the Winter Trials, equals more prestige for the stable and the rider, which equals more money and better chances in the summer tournament,’ Cadence summed up.

‘ Lots more money,’ Hawthorne confirmed.

He looked quite chuffed, Morrigan noticed, at how they were all listening intently and asking so many questions. She smiled, realising they’d probably never let him go on about the politics of dragonsport for this long before and that, actually, the topic was more interesting and complex than she’d assumed.

‘So … if someone else really wanted to ride Alights on the Water in the summer tournament and get all that money and prestige for themselves …’ Lam began thoughtfully.

‘They might murder her rider just for the opportunity,’ Cadence finished, nodding. ‘But why do it at the wedding, in front of hundreds of people? And then ride Alights ? It’s all very risky.’

Nobody could answer that.

Cadence frowned, staring at the blackboard for a long moment, then clapped her hands quite suddenly. ‘Back to question one. Who killed Dario? We need to establish who our suspects are. That’ll be tricky, because Morrigan thinks there were about two hundred guests at the wedding, not to mention staff. I think we can all agree that’s an enormous pool of suspects and we need to narrow it down as quickly as possible.’

‘It could have been a gatecrasher,’ Thaddea pointed out, but Morrigan shook her head and explained about the waterfall gate.

‘Everyone inside the Greater Circle that night was there by invitation,’ she said, ‘or because they live there.’

‘So how do we narrow it down?’ asked Arch.

‘A copy of the guest list would be ideal,’ said Cadence. ‘Morrigan, you’ll get hold of that.’

Morrigan’s eyes widened slightly. ‘I will?’

‘Yeah, just have a snoop around when you return to Darling House,’ she said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Morrigan grimaced, closing her hand around the note in her pocket. ‘But in the meantime, we do have a place to start. I’ve been going over your account of everything you saw at the wedding, and I think there are some obvious candidates.’ She tossed her piece of chalk into the air and caught it with a flourish. ‘We’ll start with the wedding planner.’

By the end of their lunch hour, Unit 919 had a sizeable suspect list.

SUSPECT

MOTIVE

OPPORTUNITY

Crispin Stirling, the wedding planner

Furious at Dario and Modestine for ruining his reputation with their Gigi Grand ‘prank’. Angry at Margot for threatening to ruin his reputation and business.

Left the wedding early. Could have gone to seek out Dario.

Lord and/or Lady Devereaux (Noelle’s mum and dad)

Furious at Dario, Modestine and the Darlings because of Gigi Grand ‘prank’. Quote: ‘Someone is going to pay.’

Left the wedding early. Could have gone to seek out Dario.

Georgette Devereaux AKA Gigi Grand

Jealousy. She and Dario were having an affair and she was tired of waiting for him to leave Modestine.

Left Dario at the boathouse but could have circled back after Morrigan left.

Cosimo ‘Ogden Town Dario’ Rinaldi

Jealous of his more talented, rich and popular brother?

NOTE: Famous for being ‘a big jerk with a bad temper’.

?

Modestine Darling

Revenge. Could she have found out about Dario and Gigi somehow?

?

Laurent St James

Hates Morrigan. Enough to murder a member of her family?

NOTE: One of the worst people in the whole world, wouldn’t put anything past him.

Left the wedding early. Could have gone to seek out Dario.

‘The Vulture’

Unclear. Didn’t RSVP but came anyway even though he obviously wasn’t welcome and doesn’t normally attend events. Must have decided to come at the last minute. Why?

?

Morrigan had felt rather put out when they’d added Aunt Modestine to the list. It was possible, she supposed, that someone might murder their unfaithful husband in revenge, but she couldn’t imagine sweet, silly Aunt Modestine doing anything of the sort. Even so, Cadence insisted that until they established alibis, every suspect would remain on the list.

‘Wait, we’ve forgotten one important suspect!’ cried Anah. ‘The One You’d Never Suspect.’

Cadence squinted at her. ‘The one … Sorry, what ?’

‘You know. Like in The Teashop Triplets at the Museum , the art thief turned out to be the little girl on a school trip. And in Freddy Barnes and the Murder at Mooley Manor , the killer was the family’s Jack Russell terrier all along.’

‘ Mooley Manor? ’ said Cadence, making a face. ‘Of all the terrible Freddy Barnes mysteries, that one is famously the worst.’

‘It’s just an example of when the culprit turns out to be … you know. The One You’d Never Suspect.’

‘How do we name someone as The One We’d Never Suspect, when by their very definition we’d never suspect them?’ Mahir asked.

The question made Anah lose a bit of steam. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we write down everyone at the wedding who’d probably definitely never do murder, like … you know. Babies and grannies and things like that. The photographer. The vicar!’

‘ Babies … ? ’ Cadence whispered incredulously. Thaddea shoved her face into a bundled-up jumper, shaking with laughter.

But Morrigan was looking at Anah with interest. ‘Why wouldn’t you suspect the photographer or the vicar?’

Anah laughed. ‘Well, it’s obviously not the vicar! And you already told us the photographer was taking photos all night long which means they must have been there to take photos of the cake-cutting, which is when you and Cadence said Dario was probably killed.’

‘Why is it obviously not the vicar?’ asked Mahir.

Anah looked aghast. ‘Because they’re a vicar !’

Cadence started counting on her fingers. ‘ The Cursed Belfry, Murder in the Chapel, Murder in the Vicarage, Murder in the House Next Door to the Vicarage, Murder in the SCHOOL Next Door to the Vicarage … all books in which the vicar is the killer. Actually, I think it was the vicar’s husband in that last one, but my point stands.’

‘Those are book vicars, Cadence,’ Anah said exasperatedly. ‘Obviously a book vicar would do murder, book vicars do murder all the time! Real vicars don’t do that sort of thing. They’re not allowed.’

Mahir, Cadence and Hawthorne all opened their mouths at once (presumably to remind Anah that nobody was actually allowed to ‘do murder’), but Morrigan waved her hands in the air, shutting down the silly argument before it could take off.

‘The vicar wasn’t even at the reception,’ she said. ‘Anah, go back – what did you say about the photographer and the cake?’

‘Well, I admit I’ve only been to one wedding – Sister Brigitta took me as her guest when her cousin got married, it was lovely . The cake was really special, but after they cut into it they picked up big chunks and smooshed them into each other’s faces and took lots of photos! Apparently it’s tradition,’ she finished, looking mildly perplexed.

‘I can’t imagine Aunt Modestine agreeing to have cake smooshed in her face, tradition or not,’ said Morrigan. ‘But you’ve made me realise, Anah – of course there’ll be photos around the time of the cake-cutting, even if they were waiting for Dario to show up! The cameras were everywhere and they didn’t stop clicking all night long. If we can get hold of those photos—’

‘We can see who isn’t in them and narrow down our suspect list to whoever’s missing!’ Cadence shouted, jumping up at once. ‘Morrigan, you’re a genius!’

Morrigan grinned. ‘It was Anah who mentioned the photographer. But thanks.’

The bell rang and they all began to gather their things, buzzing with excitement. Everyone pitched in to take down the newspaper clippings and roll up the map, and as they left the classroom together, Morrigan leaned in to ask Cadence the question that had been bothering her since she’d walked in.

‘Ask a dolphinwun what , exactly?’

Cadence sighed. ‘I honestly don’t remember.’

‘I think you need a nap.’

‘Yeah.’