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“And do you think Anne was right about something else too, that LaRusse’s drink has affected his
judgment? It is indeed perplexing that a skilled artist might gaze upon the face of one person and yet
paint another. And his behavior is erratic in other ways too. The grand speeches he made last night,
the mood shifts I witnessed today, the fact he slapped the girl. It doesn’t add up to a stable
personality.”
“Dorinda claims that the lead content of white paint drives people mad,” Rayley said. “But of course
LaRusse doesn’t mix paint – she does it for him when she mixes her own. And she takes great care
with the stuff, for I watched her. We climbed to the top of the turret to make sure we had proper
ventilation during the process.”
“Strange,” Trevor said. “Poison in the paint and poison in the roses, alcohol – and a man whose
behavior is notably erratic. Emotional young girls, their distraught families, and, I’d venture to say,
more than one John Paul running about the place. You know, a younger man who resents LaRusse’s
control over the group and his way with the ladies, who might be eager to dethrone him. Even after
less than a day here at Hever, we’ve stumbled across any number of people who might want to
destroy LaRusse, and any number of ways they might do it.”
“Well, if he’s being poisoned, he isn’t likely getting it through the food,” Rayley said. “You saw the
way they fell upon our offerings last night, even that single jug of dreadful ale. ‘To share and share
alike’ is the motto of the colony and half the time they didn’t even use glasses or spoons. It would be
very hard to administer a toxin to one diner in that room without taking the lot of them down.”
“So if Anne is right, which she most likely is, LaRusse is drinking to excess,” said Trevor. “But I’ll
wager it isn’t the local brew. If you’ll recall, he made a great show of eschewing the jug last night,
passing it along to the fellow next to him with the upmost fastidiousness.” Trevor pushed to his feet.
“I’d say he has his own bottle stashed away somewhere. That his philosophy is only to be applied to
lesser mortals, and behind closed doors it’s to hell with ‘share and share alike.’ He has brought
something fine with him from London, perhaps a few bottles of brandy, nicked from a middle-class
home while he was likewise taking their daughter.”
“But where would he keep it?” Rayley asked. “If we have hypothesized that LaRusse is drinking, and
most likely in private, after less than a day in his company, there are doubtlessly others in the colony
who suspect as much as well. And they may have concluded this private drinking is their best route
to effectively poisoning the man. There’s a cellar, but that’s not the place.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because everyone in the colony knows about it and apparently wanders in and out at leisure. It’s the
trysting space where John Paul tried to lure Dorinda. Oh, and there’s to be a party tonight, by the
way. Bonfires and revelry, while we all dance about in costume worshipping the full moon or some
Druid goddess or somesuch.”
“In honor of the solstice?”
“Quite. Good thinking, Welles, for I had forgotten entirely. But back to LaRusse and his secret
bottle. The rooms in Hever Castle stand open all the time, affording no privacy at all, by his own