Chapter 15

Sarah was in court the next day, so Isobel ducked out of the office early and met Percival for a late afternoon treat at Pinkberry on Broadway and 112th Street. They ordered mediums with assorted toppings and settled in a corner by the window.

Isobel watched in amusement as her brother stole a bite of her salted caramel. "I find it comforting when you act your age."

He gestured with his spoon. "I know when I'm being bought. So what's up?"

"I wanted to run some ideas past you about the other night."

He laughed. "I figured that was it. You're so transparent. It might cost you some extra toppings, though."

Isobel gazed at the turquoise and lime-green frozen yogurt containers in the lighted display. "I keep coming back to the actors. We all knew when the shot was going to be fired. In terms of understanding the setup and the way the evening was going to go, we're prime suspects."

"The one guy who ran off. You think it was him?"

"Andrew. He seems the most likely, but also in a way the least likely. I mean, he was so out of it, I don't even think he knew who the party was for. But it is odd that he ran off. It's also odd that Peter didn't mention it."

"What about Peter, then? It's his show, so he's pulling all the strings."

Isobel waited a moment for her mouth to unfreeze. "He actually told Delphi to delay her line to land the joke. It was in that split second that the real shot was fired."

"As if he were trying to protect her?"

"Exactly. Then there was his crazy preshow announcement," Isobel said. "I mean, Detective Vitelli was right. That's just nuts in this day and age of random public shootings."

"I can see why Peter does it, though. You wouldn't want people to panic and do something stupid." Percival popped a strawberry into his mouth. "Still, it is a good cover. Peter made the announcement, so if he was the one waving a gun around, people might not even register it."

"But the police confirmed that the bullet couldn't have come from one of the derringers."

"Could he have had another gun with him?"

"They searched him, so if he did, he must have stashed it somewhere." Isobel took a bite of her yogurt.

"Don't you think it's a bizarre coincidence that he happens to be a criminal attorney in his spare time?" Percival asked.

"Yes, but he said he didn't know Harrison."

"He said."

"I also asked Jemma if she knew him, and she claimed she didn't. But she had the perfect opportunity. With the guests watching Delphi and me in the middle of the room, Jemma could have crept back in behind the tables, along the wall."

"Is that everyone?"

"There's one other guy, Tony. He was sweating like a thoroughbred the whole night."

"Nerves?"

"I'd say yes, except that when I went to his apartment to give him his check, he had the AC blasting and he was still sweating through his shirt."

Percival scraped the last of his frozen yogurt and licked it off his spoon. "Maybe you made him nervous."

"We were just chatting."

"About the murder?"

"Well, yes, but it doesn't seem to take much for him to start dripping."

"A glandular problem can hide a multitude of sins." Percival eyed Isobel's frozen yogurt, which she'd hardly touched.

"Finish it." She pushed her cup toward him. "I don't know, I just can't imagine round, sweaty Tony having the sangfroid to commit murder at all, let alone hold a trigger finger steady in a room crowded with potential witnesses. Except..."

Percival looked up expectantly. "What?"

"He was seated at a table almost directly behind the judge. He wouldn't have had to move far to get to the wall and take aim without anyone noticing. He might even have had a direct line from his chair if he held the gun under the table."

"And how does he know the judge?"

Isobel tore her napkin in half and then in quarters. "That's just it. How do any of them?"

Percival shrugged. "Depends who they are when they're not working."

She gathered the pieces of shredded napkin into a little pile. "Funny, that's what Detective Vitelli said. Something about everyone being somebody off the job. Look at Peter."

"Yeah. Basically, right now all any of them have is opportunity. You'd still need to establish a connection to the judge and access to a weapon. What about the others at the judge's table?"

"I found out who the empty seat was for. Her name is Angelina Rivington, and she gets a third of Harrison's estate at his death."

"There you go! Was she a mistress? Ex-wife?"

"She runs a real estate company. That's all I know."

Percival finished off the last of Isobel's salted caramel and pushed the cup away. "She could be a relation."

"The cousin you leave stuff to because there isn't anyone else?"

"Sure."

Isobel stacked their empty yogurt cups and tucked the shreds of napkin inside. "This guy doesn't strike me as the kind to leave money to some random family member out of a sense of duty."

"Who says it's a sense of duty? Maybe they were close." Percival tapped a beat on the table with his spoon. "Let me play around a bit online and see if I can establish a connection."

Isobel brightened. "That would be great."

"Give me the other actors' names. I'll search them, too."

Ignoring a tug of disloyalty, Isobel rattled them off, and he scribbled them on his napkin, which was still intact. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she answered it.

"Not interrupting anything, am I?" Hugh's charming British accent made Isobel smile.

"No, just hanging with my brother."

"Are you free tomorrow night?"

"I think so. What did you have in mind?" Isobel instinctively turned away from Percival.

"I'm playing a jazz gig downtown. It's a really good band that I sit in with sometimes. I thought you might like to come, maybe bring a friend or two. I always get a few comp covers."

"That sounds great."

"I'll send you the details."

Isobel regarded her phone for a moment after hanging up, then decided now was as good a time as any.

"Hugh's playing a jazz gig tomorrow. Do you want to come?"

"Absobloominlutely! How could I pass up a chance to meet Lord Tiddly-Widdly-Wumpkins?"

Isobel kicked him under the table. "I take it back. You are not invited."

"I'll behave, I promise," Percival defended himself, laughing.

Isobel shook a warning finger at him. "No Knights Who Say Ni."

"I promise! Hey, is it okay if I bring a friend?"

"Not James."

Percival blinked. "What?"

"Isn't that - I don't know why I thought you were going to say..." Isobel turned pink.

Percival gave her a shrewd look. "James is your friend, not mine. And that isn't who I had in mind."

Isobel waved her hands vaguely near her face. "Yeah, sure. Bring someone. I'll see if Delphi wants to come, too."

Percival peered more closely at her. "Iz..."

"What?"

"Forget it."

Isobel opened her mouth to press him but changed her mind. If he was going to say something else about James, she didn't want to hear it.