LYING IN STATE
Bells tolled and crows circled in the night. The funeral party clung to the cliffs of Fregene, negotiating a narrow path that led from the Palazzo Otranto down to the beach. The coffin went first, carried by the faithful Klove and the top-hatted, long-nailed Ze do Caix?o, undertaker to the wealthy and notorious.
Genevieve fell in with the procession. Kate and Penelope were a little in front. This would be her last appearance in Italy, she decided. The warning issued at the Colosseum had taken and she would quit Rome, never to return. She still didn't entirely understand the personage who'd nearly killed but finally spared her. Her throat wasn't quite healed and she spoke with a froggy rasp.
Attendants held flaming torches to light the path.
If it hadn't been for the Crimson Executioner, all vampire society would have been here. As far as the world knew, he was still active, set on exterminating any elders who trespassed in his city. An actor named Travis Anderson, who had mysteriously disappeared a few years ago, had been found dead in the Colosseum but no official connection was made with the Executioner.
On the beach was a bier of driftwood. The coffin was laid on it and Klove lifted off the lid. Genevieve looked at the corpse. It was indeed Dracula, head resting on a pillow placed above his body. He still resisted corruption.
Princess Asa wailed her grief. Penelope comforted the elder.
They would wait till dawn, then fire the bier. Cremation had the advantage of demonstrating that Dracula was indeed definitively dead.
The vigil shouldn't last more than two hours.
Genevieve looked at the faces of the few mourners. Most were members of the soon-to-be-dispersed household. Kate's Italian reporter was here; she was pointedly not speaking with him.
'It must have been Commander Bond's hand,' Genevieve said. 'Guided by the Mother of Tears. He killed Dracula.'
Kate nodded. 'I don't care, as long as it wasn't me.'
Bond had survived the night of the games, but Genevieve thought he'd never be the same man again. He was on his way back to the Diogenes Club.
The Princess knelt at the foot of the bier and shrieked at the dying night. She was quite unhinged.
'Princess Asa is an elder,' Kate said.
Genevieve didn't follow.
'The Mother of Tears said only one elder remained in Rome,' Kate continued. 'You, Gene. Why didn't the Princess count?'
Genevieve looked out at the sea. 'Fregene is outside the city proper,' she said. 'Beyond the Realm of Tears?'
'In that case, why kill Dracula? He never left the palazzo, never went into the city.'
Genevieve had no answer.
'She was here, though. I saw her.'
Kate was thinking something through. She was like Charles, sparking swiftly from one thing to another, piling up evidence, filling in gaps with deductions.
Suddenly, she climbed up on the bier, exciting another wail from Asa, and pulled Dracula's right hand out of the coffin. She showed Genevieve the thickly-haired palm. A weal was scorched across it.
'Remember the silver scalpel with vampire skin burned on it?' said Kate. 'The proof that a vampire struck the killing blow with a bare hand? What happened was that Dracula was stabbed and took hold of the knife-handle himself, trying to pull it out. He couldn't keep the grip and let go, his hand falling by his side. Nobody looked at his hairy palms.'
'Kate, what do you think you're doing?' Penelope demanded.
Kate hopped down onto the sand.
'I'm catching you out, Penelope.'
Genevieve saw at once that Kate had guessed right.
Kate took Penelope's hand.
'You wore gloves, Penny,' she said. 'You're careful.'
Penelope did not deny the accusation.
'You arrange things,' Kate said. 'Receptions, parties, funerals. Other people's lives. And you arranged a murder, just as you do everything, with a touch of style, but without wanting to take too much credit.'
Genevieve stood by Kate. If Penelope attacked her friend, she was ready - no matter what she owed the Englishwoman - to save her.
Long moments passed.
'Very well,' said Penelope, coolly. 'I'll tell you what happened. I can't claim to explain anything, but...'