Page 59 of The Bride Wore White

“The fire was considered suspicious, although no one could prove arson. The sheriff told Raina he always believed one or more of the boys set the fire and made sure the headmaster was trapped.”

“Judging by their signet rings, Tapson and Rollins Dover were both students at the Bennington Academy,” Prudence said. “That’s a connection, isn’t it?”

“A very strong connection. The school records were destroyed in the fire, but Raina says Tapson and Rollins are the same age and would have been in their teens at the time of the fire.”

“Okay, this is getting very scary.” Prudence held up a page of the manuscript. “Your criminal analysis method emphasizes the critical importance of identifying the links between individuals. We now have two men from the same social circles in San Francisco who were together at a boarding school that sounds as if it was designed to be a classy reformatory for the offspring of the upper classes.”

“Raina had some additional information on Tapson. Evidently he did not spend the last several years hunting big game and climbing mountains. When he turned twenty, his family had him quietly committed to a private psychiatric hospital. He escaped shortlybefore he appeared in San Francisco and booked that appointment with you.”

“Why me? There are a lot of psychics working in San Francisco. I can’t believe he picked me out of the phone book.”

“We both know the connection here is Rollins Dover,” Jack said.

“But that makes no sense. I never even met Rollins until today.”

“It makes a lot of sense if you consider that back in San Francisco he may have perceived you as a threat. Clara had chosen you as Gilbert’s future bride. The mother of her gifted grandchildren. Rollins had every reason to think that you would leap at the opportunity to marry his brother.”

“Following your logic, Gilbert was the threat, not me.”

“As long as his older brother showed no interest in assuming responsibility for Dover Industries or marriage, Rollins had no reason to take the risk of murdering anyone. But if you had married Gilbert, that would have changed everything. It might or might not have caused Gilbert to settle down and take up his position at the company. But it certainly had the potential to complicate the inheritance situation. If something happened to Gilbert, you, as his wife, might have wound up controlling a chunk of Dover Industries. And if you’d had any offspring—”

“I see what you mean,” Prudence said. She was quiet for a moment. “I can’t believe we are discussing the possibility that Rollins Dover might have convinced his insane schoolmate to murder me because I threatened his control of Dover Industries.”

Jack studied his crime tree and made a note. “We don’t know for certain that’s what happened, but I’m going to assign a high probability to that possibility.”

She gathered up the manuscript pages and tapped them on the end to neaten the stack. When she was satisfied, she set the pile aside and picked up her after-dinner brandy.

He watched, telling himself to keep his mouth shut, but in the end he could not resist. He had to ask the question. “What do you think?”

“About the manuscript?” She glanced at the stack of pages. “I’m certainly not an expert on the subject, but so far your method makes sense. It provides a logical way of examining and mapping a crime scene. The writing is clear and crisp.”

“Tell me the truth—is it boring?”

She looked surprised by the question. “No, not at all, at least not to someone who is interested in such things. And I am interested.” She paused. “But—”

He braced himself. “What?”

“You are trying to quantify and describe your methods and techniques, and I’m sure that will be very helpful to the law enforcement community. But you are overlooking a key factor in your own success.”

He grimaced. “Is this where you tell me that I am a successful consultant because I possess a psychic talent for the work?”

She gave him one of her flashbulb-bright smiles. “Why don’t we call itintuition, hmm?” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting late. I’m going to go to bed. Do you mind if I take your manuscript with me? I’m almost finished.”

“Help yourself,” he said.

She finished the brandy, gathered up the manuscript pages, and walked toward the door.

“Good night,” she said just as she was about to step out into the hallway.

He sat forward abruptly, suddenly needing more answers.

“Prudence?” he said.

She stopped and gave him an inquiring look from the other side of the door.

“Yes?” she said.

He lost his nerve. He wasn’t sure yet if he wanted answers to the questions that haunted his dreams.

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