A Question of Holmes (Charlotte Holmes #4)(61)

“Yes,” he said slowly, like she was an idiot. “That’s why it’s ridiculous that one showed up here. Jesus Christ, we had nothing to do with this!”

The seams were beginning to show. It was the middle of the night. They were clearly lying about what they’d been doing. We’d interrupted a fight, or something worse.

“You act like you know everything, Theo,” Anwen said, standing. She cinched her dressing gown: an extravagant blue silk shot through with gold thread. “You were never like this before!”

“Before what,” he said, staring up at her. On the table, his hand seized into a fist.

“Before you started dating Matilda,” she said, taking a half step back. Her words came out in short bursts. She was scared. It was clear that my and Watson’s presence was the only reason she felt safe enough to speak. “Before you let her change you. You’d known her, what, two days? And suddenly you were calling her lady and letting her—letting her eat our food, and follow us around!”

“She was my girlfriend,” Theo thundered. Beside him, Rupert shuddered and sank into himself.

“No,” Anwen said tightly. “She was someone you could perform for. She acted like she had all this depth. Like she was some big, posh mystery. Well, I’m sorry—that was an act, Theo. She had secrets, but they weren’t the ones you thought.”

Tell me a secret, Matilda had said in the video, lolling across the lawn on a blanket. Drawling her words extravagantly, drawing every eye, and then laughing it off the moment before she became ridiculous. And Theo, just days ago in the auditorium, staring at me, haunted. You’ve had this invitation to you. Like you want me to tell you all my secrets. At the time, it had made me furious.

Now I thought I understood it.

“What’s yours, Anwen?” I asked into the silence. Beside me, I heard Watson suck in a breath.

She remembered I was there, then, her head whipping to the aside. Her long, wavy hair was all in snarls and knots. “I don’t owe it to anyone,” she said. “But—”

“Tell Rupert,” Theo said, shoving back and standing. “I don’t care.” He made for the stairs.

Like a child trying to tune out his parents’ fighting, Rupert was staring fixedly at the orchid in the middle of the table. “Anwen grew up in care,” he said. “In foster homes. Didn’t you? You and your twin sister.”

She had her arms wrapped around herself, the sleeves of her silk robe hiding her hands.

“You never stayed anyplace long. Bounced around Wales. Cardiff, mostly. Right? No. I know I’m right. You got top marks. Maybe you were determined to get yourself out. Maybe you were just naturally gifted, or it was some combination of both. But your sister got in trouble. Shoplifting, things like that. I’ve seen the records.”

At the foot of the stairs, Theo ducked his head.

At the table, Rupert softly fingered one of the orchid petals. “You never mentioned her,” he said. “Last summer. This summer. I kept waiting for you to mention her, but you didn’t.”

“She got pregnant,” she whispered. “Had the baby.” Theo took a step forward, searching her face.

Rupert nodded to himself. “Figured it was something like that.”

“Why didn’t you tell us any of this?” Theo asked.

She barked out a laugh. “Like you’d listen,” she said. “I tried to tell you. So many times! But you never wanted to hear it. Next to Matilda, I was boring to you, and all the while I was dealing with real things, Theo, not just . . . fucking posh-people problems! Do you know last Boxing Day, when you called me losing your mind over that phone call—”

Rupert sat up straighter. This was news to him.

“—that was someone just fucking with you, Theo, someone who called you with a dummy number and pretended to be your dead ex-girlfriend, my sister and I were being thrown out of our foster home? The baby was too loud. The baby was too much. Those assholes. I ended up . . .”

“Calling me for help,” Rupert said.

Anwen turned to him gratefully. “And you didn’t ask me why. Just put us up in a hotel until I got ahold of my caseworker, and we got another placement.” Her pale face hardened. “But you found out anyway.”

“My father did,” he said. “It was his money. He had someone look into it, when I asked.”

Rupert Davies. The only boy at this program with a Moriarty connection. It would have been as easy as snapping his fingers to get that information.

“It isn’t your fault.” She reached out to touch his shoulder, but he shied away.

Theo groaned. “I’m sorry, Anwen,” he said, and there was bitter irony in his voice. “I’m sorry you didn’t think you could trust us. But what does this have to do with Matilda?”

“Everything,” she murmured. “Everything.”

And just like that, I had my solution.

There was a hammering at the stairwell door. “Police! Open up!”

The three of them looked wildly at each other. Rupert stood and backed up against the wall, and Theo shivered in his T-shirt, and only Anwen had the presence of mind to look at me.

I tried very hard not to smile.

The second text I’d sent had been received. DI Sadiq really did have impeccable timing.