The list contained a discrete number of names. Davenport had supplied her with the necessary background information on each of the persons listed. The list should have helped. But if anything, it made her more frustrated and confused. There was no one on the list that she hadn’t thought of before. And from what the observatory librarian told her, there wasn’t anything that she haven’t been told before or haven’t considered.
After musing over the list with Davenport and discussing possible motives, the observatory librarian had suggested that she go out for a walk to clear her head. It was like that in science, he had told her. If one of the astronomers had a block in his thinking, he would distance himself from the laboratory for a couple of hours.
“Ideas and insights can’t be forced,” Davenport had told her. “It’s a nice day out today. Go walk about the island, or even just the vegetable garden that Madame Boulanger and Colette keep just outside the kitchen. A change of pace might trigger your mind to make a connection that you haven’t before.”
So with the list in hand, she left the library and went back up towards her room to get her coat and bonnet. Perhaps she should also get a drink to fortify herself, she thought. But when she stopped in front of her door, she smiled wryly to herself as she remembered. Renaud had thrown out all her bottles. She would just have to do without any sort of fortification.
The marten’s nose twitched as it followed Haidée up the stairs to the second floor bedrooms. It scented something very, very wrong. It squeaked and began pawing at her bedroom door in a frenzy.
“Now what?” she said, glancing at the small animal at her foot. “There’s no food in my room.” She suddenly laughed. “There’s no tonic either if that’s what you’re looking for.”
Haidée opened the door and stepped through the threshold. Her foot caught on something. A brown envelope skidded across the floor and stopped just short of the rug next to the bed. The marten raced towards the envelope, making a ruckus. Its body quivered with excitement, but it made no move to touch it.
“What’s this?” She went over and picked the envelope up. She flipped it over and found no markings on the outside. “Curious.” She slipped a finger under the flap and pulled out a folded card. She opened it and felt her face pale.
She stuffed the card back into the envelope and stormed out, forgetting her coat and bonnet, even forgetting to close the door to her room. By the time she got back out to the hallway near the foyer to the observatory’s front door, she saw Davenport adjusting his hat before heading out.
“Monsieur Davenport. I must speak with you.”
“Ah, Mademoiselle Avenall. Was there something…” the observatory librarian’s voice trailed off when he got a good look at her face. “My God. What happened?”
“This happened.”
She handed him the envelope. He looked at the card and frowned. “It’s a symbol of some sort. It looks sort of like a flower to me. I don’t see why this has you so upset.”
“You don’t understand, Monsieur Davenport,” she said urgently. “It’s a sign all right. It’s a mark. It was the same kind of mark I saw on the wall on the border of the farm next to the observatory’s property. It was where Monsieur D’Aubigne’s body was found. And not far from where I found Monsieur Garnier’s body.”
“It’s the sacrificial sign you told me about a moment earlier,” Davenport said, aghast. But instead of stuffing the card back into the envelope in horror as had been Haidée’s initial reaction, he stared at the sign in morbid fascination. “This thing can kill?”
“No, that thing can’t exactly kill,” she admitted. “It’s not quite the same as the one at the wall. An element is missing—several of the outer strokes have not been written in—so the sign can’t be activated. I think this is a warning to me, to stay out of this investigation.”
“But why would whoever responsible want you out of the investigation? Everyone else thinks that you’re just an actress on vacation.”
“But you know what I’m doing.”
“I was in the library the entire time,” he protested.
She shook her head. “I know. I don’t think you could have planted it in my room.”
“It could have been any number of people,” Davenport pointed out. But his eyes kept straying to the symbol. “You know, now that I think about it, this looks sort of familiar.”
“Familiar? You’ve seen it elsewhere before?”
“No, I haven’t seen this symbol before. I don’t know anything about sorcery so why should I know anything about marks. No, it’s the style. There’s something about the way this symbol is written that is eating away at my memory.” He gave her the card without putting it back into the envelope. “I’m pretty sure I recognize the handwriting, but I can’t remember who it was.”
“You will tell me as soon as you remember?” she said.
Before the librarian could reply, the front door opened, revealing Everard and Renaud. The head astronomer was bent over as if a heavy burden weighed down his shoulders. He looked exhausted. Haidée froze as her eye met Renaud’s gaze. He seemed somewhat impassive at her appearance.
“I see you’re up,” Renaud said neutrally.
“I’ve been awake for a while,” she said tentatively.
“Are you feeling well?”
“As well as I can be.”
“Mademoiselle, I’ll be at home looking over my correspondence,” Davenport cut in. “Come by tomorrow and we’ll discuss the handwriting. I’m sure I’ll have the answer then. Good day, Monsieur Everard. Monsieur Renaud.”
The men nodded to the observatory librarian as he took his leave. The head astronomer gave a sigh as the door finally closed and mumbled, “It’s useless.” He raised his eyes to Haidée. “You do not look well, Mademoiselle.”
“I think that is to be expected,” she replied. “Now if you excuse me…”
The head astronomer suddenly interrupted, “What is that?” He was looking at the card in her hand. “That thing looks dangerous.”
“It looks dangerous, but it isn’t, unless you add a few lines,” she replied.
Renaud looked over her shoulder. She heard his quick indrawn breath when he realized what he was looking at. “That looks exactly like that sign on the wall.”
“It’s not quite exact,” she explained again. “Without some of the lines, it’s actually quite harmless. I found it in my room. Whoever had done this probably slipped it under the door. I think it’s a warning.”
Renaud’s expression darkened. “He knows about you,” he said lowly.
Everard looked puzzled. “I don’t get it. Why would someone want to target Mademoiselle Avenall. She is a woman, not an astronomer.”
“Killers don’t need to be reasonable,” Haidée pointed out. “But this is just proof that the murderer is indeed well versed in the dark arts if he can manipulate a sign so that it looks like a dangerous one but it doesn’t actually do anything. In fact, it was just a while ago that Monsieur Davenport and I were making a list of everyone on the island who might have the capability to do so. I thought the list was…” She paused when she noticed that the men were staring at each other. “What is it?”
The head astronomer’s voice shook. “Galliard. We have to get back.”