Why Kings Confess

Chapter 40

Gibson was leaning against the slab in the center of the small stone outbuilding at the base of the yard, his arms smeared with gore up to the elbows, when Sebastian came to stand in the entrance.

What was left of Colonel Andre Foucher lay faceup on the slab, his body naked and eviscerated, his ruined eyes hideous in the glare of the lantern Gibson had lit against the morning gloom.

“Ah, there you are,” said the surgeon, laying aside his scalpel and reaching for a rag to wipe his hands. “There’s something I wanted you to see. Here; help me turn him over.”

Between them, they eased the French colonel over to reveal the back of his long, slim torso. The purple slit low between his shoulder blades was clearly visible.

“So he was stabbed,” said Sebastian.

“He was indeed. With a dagger. And here’s something interesting: Judging by the angle of the blade’s entry, I’d say it’s a good bet that the man who stabbed him is not right-handed. I could be wrong, mind you; it’s always possible the killer was standing in such a way as to have the same effect. But it’s far more likely you’re looking for a left-handed murderer. I just wish I’d had Pelletan’s body long enough to know if he was stabbed in the same way.”

“The man who tried to kill me-twice-is left-handed.” Sebastian studied the freshly healed scar running the length of the colonel’s right arm. “Doesn’t seem right, somehow, for him to have managed to survive Napoleon’s debacle in Russia, only to be stabbed in the back in London.”

“Bit ironic; that’s for sure. You can bet he didn’t see this as a dangerous assignment.” Gibson paused. “Know if he had any family?”

Sebastian shook his head. “I never asked.”

Together, they turned the corpse again, and Sebastian found he had to look away from that ravaged face. “What can you tell me about the damage to his eyes?”

“I suspect whoever knifed him in the back then took his dagger to the eyes. It’s very crudely done.”

“Like Pelletan’s heart.” Sebastian rubbed his own eyes with a splayed thumb and forefinger, then swiped his hand down over the lower part of his face.

“Any idea why he was killed?” Gibson asked.

“I have lots of ideas. The problem is figuring out which of them is right. He could have been killed by someone intent on disrupting the peace negotiations. Or he could have died because he knew something about what happened to Pelletan.”

Gibson wiped his hands again and reached for his scalpel. “I’m not quite finished here, but I’ll be surprised if there’s anything more to be learned.”

Sebastian started to turn toward the door, then paused to say, “I spoke to Alexi Sauvage just now.”

“Oh?” said Gibson without looking up.

“She tells me Lady Peter’s young ‘brother’ is actually her son-by Damion Pelletan. Did you know?”

Gibson shook his head. “No.”

“She says she was told about the child in confidence and felt honor bound to keep Lady Peter’s secret. But I think that’s not the only thing she’s still holding back from us.”

“She’s very frightened.”

She didn’t strike Sebastian as frightened, but all he said was, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Gibson looked up then, his green eyes glinting. “What the devil is that supposed to mean?”

“You know.”

But Gibson only ducked his head again, a flush of anger or chagrin riding high on his gaunt cheeks.