Ty said, "That's when Lance said he'd take care of it. He was exhausted. He didn't want to be awake. He was in a mood to be very rude to somebody. I told him, 'Kick his b.u.t.t down the stairs if you have to.' He went straight to the door."

I looked up at Genord. He told me, "I stayed with him. Just in case. I wasn't alert enough. Something did happen. And it was over before I could react."

I nodded. "Go ahead. Nicks?"

Genord moved Nicks into position at the door, returned to his own place.

"Freeze," I told them. "Genord. Is this where everybody was? Exactly. Ty? Were you still looking up the hall?"

Genord nodded. Ty told me, "No. I was looking over my shoulder like this. But I couldn't see anything. Lance or Gerris."

I didn't have to bend or squat to see that he was right. You had to be two giant steps to his right even to spot the tail of Nicks' skirts.

"But you saw it all?" I asked Genord. I was down to the unexpected eyewitness.

He nodded. "The man was in shadow, though. And I was turned toward Master Ty when Lancelyn squawked."

"But you got a look at the visitor when you answered the door, didn't you?"

"I'd recognize him if I ever saw him again."

"Did you recognize him then?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm wondering if he might not have been here for the betrothal party. Possibly as one of Gresser's serving crew."

"I see where you're going. I don't think that's possible. Though if you a.s.sume that the a.s.sa.s.sin was a shapechanger, he could have been here before in a different guise. But didn't you lock all of them up?" Genord seemed to be enjoying himself now. Was he fond of being the center of attention?

Block observed, "Evidently the guy wasn't out to kill just anybody. Otherwise, he would've sliced you up when you opened the door. And he must not have wanted in all that badly or he would've just made his entrance over you and Ty. He's already made one kill. He'd have nothing to lose by another."

I snapped, "He say anything to you?"

Genord appeared rattled again. "Uh. Yeah. Let's see." Genord's snooty accent evaporated. He closed his eyes. After a deep breath he uncorked a string of rude demands for the return of a missing girlfriend. I frowned. So did everyone else. Genord stumbled. "Uh. That's what it sounded like to me. I was puzzled. That was one reason I deferred to Lancelyn. I couldn't imagine that the man had come to the wrong house." There is no other residence near the Weider mansion.

I exchanged glances with Block. The puzzle was growing bigger. I said, "I mean did he say anything after he hit Lance. But before you answer that, tell me, are you saying that this killer was accusing Lance of stealing his woman?"

"No." Genord appeared to be surprised by the question. "Not exactly. Well, he didn't use any names. But he must've meant Lacelyn because he kept accusing Lancelyn directly. Then he did what he did and I think he was completely stricken by it afterward. I think he panicked and ran away."

Ty said, "There couldn't have been any girl, Genord. And you know it. I didn't hear what was said but I know a girl couldn't possibly have been the real problem. Lance told you why himself, Garrett."

"Yeah. His thing for Kittyjo." Not to mention that only a psychic killer could have counted on Lance answering the door if he had a quarrel with Lance. "What was this guy wearing, Genord?"

"What?"

"He wasn't naked, was he? Give me an overall impression. Upscale? Down? Neat? Rumpled? Threadbare? How was his grooming?"

Genord paused. He didn't seem to have thought about his much. "Uh...Almost military? Yeah. That's what I'd call it. His manner was crisp. Like the training sergeants we all recall so fondly."

He could have been describing himself.

He was recovering fast, turning almost c.o.c.ky again. A changeable guy, Gerris Genord.

Block asked, "Did you notice an armband? Or medals. Or anything else that might connect him to a freecorps or a rightsist group?"

"I didn't see anything to connect him to anybody or anything but death. But he stayed in the shadows."

I took a couple of steps to the side, looked up toward the door. I told Block, "Colonel, let's you and me walk through this ourselves."

Block looked puzzled but his instincts had been right when he had asked for a re-creation.

Genord frowned, troubled again.

I said, "I'll play the killer. You go be Genord. Genord, get out of the way. Nicks, you be Lance again. Ty, don't move at all. All right?"

"Not a muscle."

"Ahem," Tinnie said. "What're you trying to prove?"

"I'm trying to understand what happened. Something isn't right. This doesn't make sense."

Genord glowered.

I checked the layout. The players were in place. I stepped outside-without closing the door, so the bogeyman couldn't get me without somebody noticing-then walked through the murder with Gerris Genord directing. Reluctantly. Then we did it again so I could see things from Lance's viewpoint. Then I told everybody, "Go back to the dining room."

Tinnie tarried. I winked. She went but not without a frown.

Block asked, "You got something?"

"Maybe. It all may hinge on what could turn out to be a stupid question."

"Seemed to me...I had a gut feeling...But a lot of times murder just doesn't make sense."

This one might not make sense even if it was right. "I think it happened pretty much the way we walked through. n.o.body contradicted anybody."

"But?"

"The question. What was Gerris Genord doing awake and answering the door in the middle of the night?"

"s.h.i.t. You're right. I never thought of that."

"You felt it. Or you wouldn't have had a hunch. You didn't see it because Genord is supposed to answer the door."

68.

"Sorry. Just family right now," I told Tinnie. "Nicks, you qualify." I considered before telling Gilbey, "And you."

He was irked because I'd thought about it.

"Let's go to yonder corner. Drag over some chairs." I dragged one for myself. I gathered them in a circle, knee to knee.

"What is it, Garrett?" Max Weider was experiencing a resurrection of will. Maybe he thought something was getting accomplished. I hoped I could maintain the illusion.

"Some of you may think this is a stupid question. But the answer could be critical. Can anybody tell me why Genord would be answering the door in the middle of the night? Even I'm not superhuman enough to stay on the job all day and all night, too."

Ty chuckled weakly. He said nothing. In normal times he would've spoken just to remind us he was there.

His eyes went cold when the substance of my question connected. "I didn't think of that. Gerris is always just there."

"You don't have a night porter? Somebody like that?"

"No."

"Let's take it a step further, then. How do we know there was anybody at the door? We just have Genord's word."

"s.h.i.t," Ty growled. "I never thought of that even when I was there. But Genord wouldn't-"

Max snapped, "Why was Genord up in the middle of the night?"

n.o.body told me maybe I was good at what I do. n.o.body said, hey, Garrett, maybe you're onto something. I suggested, "Why don't we ask Genord?"

Gilbey muttered, "I'd hate to pick which one I didn't like the most, Lance or Genord, but under the circ.u.mstances-"

"Take it easy. We don't know Genord is telling stories." I didn't want to lynch the majordomo. Yet. But I sure didn't buy the tale he'd told.

Max raised a hand, glaring. Hard Max was back. "Get him, Garrett."

"I'll do it," Gilbey said. He was right. In normal times he'd summon Genord.

Manvil stayed a step behind Genord as they approached. Genord looked worried. He felt the string running out.

I said, "I've got a problem with this thing, Genord. It goes right back to that guy at the door. n.o.body saw him but you. Ty says he never heard the guy. But you said he was shouting."

"Maybe I was so scared it just seemed like he was shouting." Genord shrugged. "I can't tell you anything else."

"Sure you can. You can tell us what you were doing up in the middle of the night. You can tell us why you were at the front door when Ty and Lance came into the great hall."

Genord shuffled his feet. He looked for a way out. He didn't answer me.

"They took you by surprise, didn't they? They couldn't help but notice you. Sooner or later somebody would ask you what you were doing. You panicked. You didn't think. You just did the first d.a.m.ned thing that popped into your head. And that was something really stupid. Which you compounded by making up an incredibly stupid story."

"I just answered the d.a.m.ned door!"

"Sure. You heard the knock all the way up to your room on the fourth floor. Come on, Genord. You're not that clever. It's obvious you were sneaking in after being someplace you shouldn't have been. Unless you were waiting for somebody. Or maybe you really were squabbling with somebody. Somebody who didn't get out of the way fast enough when Lance came up and maybe recognized him..." That couldn't be quite right. But it might be close. "Colonel Block."

"Uhm?"

"You did have somebody watching the house, didn't you?"

"The s.h.i.thead supposed to be out there wasn't. He sneaked off, he claims to get something to eat."

"But don't your men operate in pairs?"

"The other now former Guardsman wandered away even earlier. He hasn't turned up yet."

"You kept a few too many Watchmen on the payroll."

"Evidently. Though the first s.h.i.thead did yell as soon as he found out something happened. Give him that. He did the right thing even though he knew his b.u.t.t was in a sling."

Genord relaxed visibly while Block delivered his bad news. Not a soul missed that. I asked, "Anybody got a silver coin? And a knife?"

69.

Gerris Genord was no shapeshifter. But he was a villain. I had no doubt about that. He refused to talk, though. Block predicted, "He will. Eventually." A regular sibyl, he was.

I suggested, "Check his room, Gilbey. See if there's anything there to tell why he'd blow such a cush job."

Block's men took Genord away. He went silently but with defiant pride. I asked, "Anybody know that man well?"

Young, old, male, female, human, or otherwise, none of the staff knew a thing. That this betrayal came hard on the heels of the other tragedies suggested treacheries of incalculable depths.

"Did he have any particular friends?"

n.o.body even heard of Gerris Genord, suddenly. He'd never had a friend. Gerris Genord? Is that some tropical disease?

Gilbey returned. "I've got something I want you to see, Garrett."

"What?"

"We didn't know Gerris well at all."

"The man was a pig-" I started, but then intuited, "He was fanatically neat, wasn't he?"