Face of Murder

Shelley finished her thought. “Matthias will kill him.”

Zoe pushed her foot down further on the accelerator. This was a matter of timing only. Either they got there before Wardenford was murdered, or after.

She hoped to god that it would be before.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Matthias shook his head. He was getting the hang of this now. The focus. He was able to get the words out. “I’m just glad the real killer has been caught.” There! See! A whole th—a th—a sentence. A whole sentence.

He was too busy being proud of himself to watch Waterfo—Wardenford. But when he spoke he sounded nervous, like his head snakes were all swimming, like something churned within him.

“Caught? Did they say who it was?”

Matthias twisted his face up with the concentration. Say it. Say. The words. Come on. “Pear. Uh, white. Pear white. No, something…” He knew he was so far off. So far off. He was about to get caught. Wardenford would know. He would know about Matthias’s snakes and how they all slithered in the wrong direction now.

“Dr. Applewhite,” Wardenford corrected quietly. “How did you hear about that? I haven’t seen anything in the news.”

Mistake, mistake! Didn’t check the news, didn’t read the—scrolls. Should have checked. Oh, Matthias, you got yourself caught. Those snakes were getting away.

Matthias shrugged to get the message down to as few words as he could. He couldn’t risk it, not now, with the—picnic in him. Not picnic. Focus. Explain it. “Campus rumors,” he said.

There was silence. Maybe Matthias said too much. Maybe the picnic—the panic was justified. Oh, but how awful it would be if he knew! If he saw the snakes!

A loud noise outside, and Wardenford rose to look out the window. “Goodness me,” he muttered, shaking his head. “They shouldn’t be making that kind of racket this early in the morning. Some people are still asleep. What time is it now, anyway?”

Matthias looked at his watch. Read it confidently without thinking. “It’s nine-sixteen.”

There was a long silence.

Matthias saw Wardenford look back at his watch and checked his own again. Focused. Squinted his eyes one way, then another. Wardenford was still looking outside. The time was wrong. The time he read out was wrong.

“Well,” Wardenford said, turning back from the glass and sitting on the—bench. “Some people just don’t have any sense of what’s right, do they? I imagine there was barely any reason for them to hit the horn at all. You know what these road-rage inner-city drivers are like.”

Wardenford gave his happy smile. Matthias looked at him and smiled back, and behind it all the snakes were foaming. He knew. Wardenford knew.

What a stupid mistake.

But maybe all was not—gone. After all, his mentor could guess about the snakes. The mind snakes. That didn’t mean he knew about the blood snakes.

“I try not to drive,” Matthias said. He had to be careful because he could not find his way to the word for the thing that people drove, the—refuge, and he had to control his expression as well. Wardenford might just think it was a one-off mistake. Not snakes but silliness. Maybe Matthias could pretend it was a—funny.

It wasn’t true, anyway. He’d been driving a lot, lately. But at least if he said he didn’t, he could distance himself from the suspicion. A killer didn’t get on the sub-sub—coach.

Wardenford hadn’t said anything for a minute. He was looking at his coffee. Matthias wondered if he was figuring it out.

“I haven’t driven at all, since…” Wardenford began, then stopped. “Well. All that unpleasantness. Best left in the past. Anyway, how are your studies going?”

Matthias picked up his coffee and sipped. Best left in the past too. But a direct question needed an answer. “Dropped out,” he said. Immediately he was unhappy smiles, raging at himself, the snakes all hissing and biting their own tails. Such an answer would mean—following. He would have to talk more. He looked into the black coffee and hoped it would end there, knowing it wouldn’t.

Wardenford set his coffee down on the table, ringing, ringing, ringing. “You dropped out? Matthias, what happened? You were doing so well when I left. One of my best students. Are you planning to study somewhere else?”

Matthias shook his snakes slowly.

“Good god. It must have been bad, whatever it was. Is it money? You can’t afford the tuition anymore? Please tell me it’s something like that, something we can fix. There are grants I can help you to apply for.”

Matthias shook his snakes again, slow, slow, slow.

Wardenford swallowed. His—pear bobbed up and down in his throat. He must have been nervous, Matthias realized. He was trying not to show it.

“Just let me know if there’s something I can do to help,” Wardenford said at last. “If you don’t want to talk about it just now, I understand.”

Matthias looked down into his coffee. Drank a bit. Wardenford knew about the snakes.

Not just the head snakes.

The blood snakes.

“Actually, you know, I do have to get somewhere,” Wardenford said, his voice suddenly pepping up. “I hadn’t realized the time. But what with it being so far on, I should really get ready. It’s been wonderful to see you, Matthias. Do come visit again. And consider my offer for help, yes?”

He stood up, a gesture that was clearly designed to show Matthias it was time to leave.

Could he leave?

Matthias didn’t want to do it but the head snakes, they needed it. They couldn’t stop with the blood and the headbox couldn’t contain them—not his headbox, not Wardenford’s headbox. They had to come out. There was an ache in Matthias’s chest, in his—his chestbox—his ven—ca—what was it, the thing in the chestbox—the thing… oh, it ached with the thought of ending him. The snakes were wrapping around it and squeezing their tails tight, but what could he do?

He couldn’t spare him. If it wasn’t for all of the others—but the snakes were on his hands, written in letters so big Wardenford could read them now, and he knew. He would tell. Even if Matthias begged him not to, he would tell. He had to be stopped.

It was a mistake, coming here. He had wanted comfort, the words of an old mentor. Now Wardenford would pay in blood snakes, would pay for them like all the others. It was his fault. He shouldn’t have come. But there was no going back. Matthias had to do it. He had to do it now.

The—buzzing box on the table rang, a fun happy tune ringing out across the space, lighting up the display. In a flash, Matthias had to think: think, think. If he answered, Wardenford could tell them. Could bring the flashing lights and men with guns and put him away forever. That couldn’t happen.

That couldn’t be.

He saw an empty wine bottle sitting beside the sofa, down right by the edge, where Wardenford missed it when he was cleaning. He saw it clearly. Everything was aligned.

Matthias took the bottle and lunged forward and smashed the full force of it over Wardenford’s headbox, and the man fell to the floor with a startled groan, and it was done.

The buzzingbox rang again on the table, into the silence now of the room. Matthias stood above him, catching his breath, feeling the snakes writhe around in his own headbox in anticipation of the blood to come.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

Zoe remembered the way from their last visit. She raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time, then counted doors the flashed by until she was at the right one. Behind it she could hear nothing, as she paused in the corridor and waited for that long second.

Shelley caught up, panting, as Zoe pressed the call button on her cell again. They both heard the ringtone faintly on the other side, going unanswered. They exchanged a look.

The situation was precarious. If the killer was inside, they did not want to give him time to get away—or to take Wardenford hostage with a weapon. But if he had already made his attack, then time was of the essence. Knocking on the door and shouting their presence seemed to be off the table.

Breaking the door down, then?