Chapter 7: The Pocketed Fork

Rupert showed me his empty hands and then tried to hide his sleeves.

"I was looking at the engraving," he said.

"You can look without picking anything up."

He put his hands on the table.

I didn't want to spend the night supervising a grown man beside a candlestick.

Rosamund watched me from across the room.

"There's a study," she said.

"You might prefer to speak where the chairs don't keep arriving."

A high-backed chair slid through the dining room door behind her.

It stopped at the table, leaving just enough room for a thin young ghost to sit.

The ghost looked at the waiting place and remained standing.

Rupert counted the chairs again.

"How many rooms are in this place?"

"Fewer than the guests," Rosamund said.

Elaine's silver cake fork had disappeared from beside her plate.

I looked toward her handbag.

She closed it before meeting my eyes.

"The set is incomplete," she said.

"It will be if anyone takes pieces away."

She lifted her cup and didn't answer.

I wanted to search the bag.

I also knew I couldn't make every adult safe by deciding their choices for them.

"Return anything you haven't been offered," I said.

"You've both seen what happens."

Pippa followed me into the study with a covered dish of bread.

She asked before bringing it through the door.

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