The Rostikov Legacy (Malykant Mysteries #1)

Chapter Four

The new Lady Rostikova had been quick to furnish herself with visiting cards. A fresh one lay on his hall table when he returned the following morning. It was a prim little rectangle of card, printed with her new title and her address in gilded lettering. The address in question was Rostikov House, already given into new hands.

    The lady had left a note for him along with the card, and an elegant invitation scribed in gold ink. She was returning his visit, she said, and would he do them the honour of attending their little gathering on the thirteenth?

   The invitation was no surprise; he’d known it would come, as soon as he had introduced himself to them at the park. His acquaintance was worth having to a newly aristocratic couple, anxious to establish themselves in their new position.

   And in keeping with that wish, the opulence of the invitation told him this event would be no “little gathering”. They were flaunting their new status, proving their suitability for the highest echelon of Ekamet society.

   He knew that few people would blame them for it.

   They weren’t wasting any time, either. The thirteenth was just two days away. They were gambling on their terrific rise in status to bring guests at such short notice. It was a gambit that would probably work.

   Konrad wrote his reply immediately and handed it to a servant to deliver.

   In one respect, this news was disconcerting. If Rostikov House had already been claimed by its new owners, they would have stripped it out. No further clues as to its former mistress’s fate were likely to be found there. But his most promising leads were people: the poison-seeking man whom Irinanda had described, and the old woman at the funeral.

   It seemed indubitable that the woman was connected to Navdina in some way; closely connected, given her distress. It was quite possible that she herself still resided at Rostikov House, at least for the present, and the upcoming party would give him the perfect opportunity to look for her.

   He rang the bell. Within moments, footsteps approached and Mrs Orista, his housekeeper, bustled in and bobbed a curtsey.

   ‘I’m expecting someone,’ he told her. ‘Make sure he is shown into the parlour as soon as he arrives. Without delay, please. And send someone in with tea, and something edible.’

   ‘Of course, sir.’ She smiled - the woman was always beaming - and left in the direction of the kitchen.

   Nuritov arrived as the clock struck eleven. He was always punctual, thought Konrad approvingly as he rose to greet him.

   ‘Ten minutes only,’ the man said to Konrad as they shook hands. He perched on the edge of a chair, not even pausing to remove his coat and hat. ‘Baris has me jumping this morning.’

   Baris was Artoni Baris, chief of Ekamet’s police, and Nuritov was one of his inspectors. Konrad paid him to share findings with him. Sometimes he paid in money, and sometimes he paid in information. Nuritov knew him only as a somewhat eccentric amateur sleuth.

   ‘Rostikov case, I’m guessing?’ Nuritov accepted a cup of tea and drank half of it down in one gulp.

   Konrad lifted a brow.

   ‘It’s the big one at the moment,’ Nuritov explained. ‘Everyone’s talking about it. Thought it would be up your street.’

   ‘Do you have anything for me?’ Konrad selected a cake and began delicately pulling it to pieces.

   Nuritov nodded emphatically. ‘The victim’s servants have been talking. Said Navdina went all to pieces a few weeks ago. Cancelled most of her social engagements and started spending all her time locked up in the house.’