Silas nodded, a small, precise motion. "From nine until… well, until the commotion. We were reviewing the revised trust documents. Mr. Blackwood was alive when I arrived. He was in his study, quite irate."
"So," Mara continued, standing. "At nine o'clock, you claim you were in the dark east wing. Reading. Except the east wing had no generator backup. It would have been pitch black. And you, Elara, are afraid of the dark. The maids mentioned it. You have nightlights in every outlet of the master suite."
"But you, Silas," Mara said, turning to the lawyer. "You know the house. You installed the generator yourself last spring. You knew the east wing would be blind. So you sat in the dark with her. Or did you?" Mansion -Alibi-
The rain didn’t so much fall as lean , sliding in slick, grey sheets down the limestone facade of Blackwood Manor. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of old cedar and newer lies.
"Elara," Mara said, softer now. "The east wing is twenty rooms. Maids' quarters, a ballroom, a billiards room. You're telling me that for three hours, neither of you left that wing? No calls? No bathroom break? No glass of water from the kitchen?" Silas nodded, a small, precise motion
She pointed to the smear on the floor.
She looked up at the chandelier again. It was electric. No candles. "At nine o'clock, you claim you were in the dark east wing
"Mansion's old," Mara murmured, almost to herself. "The east wing still has gas sconces, doesn't it? And the west wing—the study, the master bedroom—updated in the nineties. But the power went out tonight at eight forty-five. The whole block. Generator kicks in only for the west wing, the security system, and the kitchen."
"The mansion keeps no secrets," Mara said, pulling out her handcuffs. "It just waits for someone smart enough to listen."
