Page 50 of The Bridesmaid
I frown. ‘Locard is like … the grandfather of forensics. He wrotePolice and Scientific Methods.’
‘That one skipped me by.’
‘I loved the early forensic cases, as a kid,’ I tell him. ‘Locard was hired to investigate the Lindbergh baby kidnapping. The way he analyzed the trace evidence was fascinating.Wherever he steps, whatever he touches, whatever he leaves, even unconsciously, will serve as a silent witness against him.’ I nod happily. ‘I was pretty much obsessed with death and science from a young age,’ I explain, in answer to Fitzwilliam’s puzzled expression.
‘What makes a kid love forensics?’
I crinkle my nose in thought. ‘I guess … I didn’t grow up with the most reliable of people. Forensics don’t lie. They don’t let you down, or change their mind, or stand you up. They’re justthere. The most truthful constant there is, if you spend the time to look for them.’
There’s a look on Fitzwilliam’s face like grudging respect.
‘The point is, I think Simone wrote this entry,’ I say. ‘Like a clue. To tell us we’re in the right place. The only trouble is, I don’t know what she meant by it.’
‘Why did she write Violet Locard, instead of Edmund Locard?’ asks Fitzwilliam. ‘Was she trying to obscure the name?’
‘Maybe …’ I dig in my pack and pull out my forensic light.‘Ultra violet,’ I say.‘Ultra-violet light.’
I snap on the purplish beam. Almost at once I see it. The top corner of the log book. A clear splotch. Deliberate. Forming a shape, glowing green.
‘UV paint. There,’ I breathe, as a shape reveals itself. ‘You see that?’
Fitzwilliam comes to look. ‘It’s … an arrow,’ he says. ‘Only detectable under UV light.’
‘Simone’s clue,’ I say. ‘The arrow points to the back of the caves.’ I shine the light in that direction and my heart lifts. It’s another arrow.
‘That way!’ I point.
Fitzwilliam is standing perfectly still. ‘You hear that?’ he asks. ‘I think that’s an engine sound. In the distance. It’s not sunset,’ he frowns. ‘Maybe the workers are arriving early. We’d better be fast.’
‘Fast and careful,’ I agree.
Fitzwilliam and I move past the spa rooms; shining pods ofblack stone laid at intervals on the volcanic floor of the lava tunnel. Carved into the doorways are the various treatments involving mud and water from the nearby hot springs.
Toward the back is a jagged rope, with ‘No Access’ written across it.
‘Somewhere the Kensingtons don’t want us to see?’ I suggest. ‘Let’s take a look.’
Chapter Thirty-Nine
ADRIANNA
The other bridesmaids have peeled away to explore the house, leaving me alone with Silky.
‘Why do you always do this, Silks?’ I demand. ‘Why do you have to keep making things awkward?’
‘Whyis Petra your bridesmaid?’ Silky plants two skinny arms on bony hips. Her black bangs are still plastered to her pale forehead with sweat, I notice, though it isn’t hot inside the house, and her red lipstick is slightly smudged.
I sigh.‘I’m really sorry,’ I say. ‘I didn’t know my dad would appoint her, Iswear.’
‘You’re such a coward.’ Silky looks straight ahead, through the floor-to-ceiling plantation-style doors at the end of the grand library. The sky and sea are framed by Ophelia’s choice of navy drapes and dark-gold tie-backs.
‘Silky,’ I say, attempting to pull some bridal authority into my tone. ‘I’m sorry your court case against the school didn’t go how you wanted. But …’
‘It’s fine,’ Silky says, sounding surprisingly genuine. ‘Petra won. I lost. I’m moving on.’ She sounds less sincere now. ‘And … your kidnap certainly sucked all the oxygen out of the case.’
I look away, not sure how to manage my emotions.
‘Sorry,’ she adds. ‘I didn’t mean that.’
