A new wave of dizziness overcame her, her stomach pitching up and down like an out-of-control roller coaster. She was going to be sick. She shook the crawling parasites from her foot and backed away, scanning the room, but the sea of faces blended together. Simon was coming toward her, taking the box from her, as she shrank away from him in fear.

“Stay away from me.” She held her hands out in front of her. “Blaire,” she called, searching the room through eyes blurry with tears. “Get the police in here. Hurry.”

24

The police had told everyone to wait in the dining room, where one of the officers kept watch while they took each guest, one by one, into the study for questioning. The tension in the room was unbearable, with everyone looking at one another, trying to assess who among them might be guilty. It reminded Blaire of that Christie book And Then There Were None.

She was nearly the last to be summoned. A police officer escorted her in.

“Please have a seat, Ms. Barrington,” Anderson said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

Blaire sat and waited for him to speak.

“Do you have any idea if that box was among the presents that Mr. English brought into the room?”

“No, I don’t. There was a big pile of presents. I can’t be sure if it was there or not.”

“Did you see anyone bring it into the house when they arrived?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Did you happen to see anyone leave the dining room before the gifts were opened?”

“No. It was dark. We had just sung ‘Happy Birthday.’”

“How about right before? Did you notice anyone leave the dining room before the singing began?”

She thought a moment. “I can’t be sure. I wasn’t really looking around. I was watching Annabelle.”

“Try to remember,” he prodded.

She looked up and tried to picture who’d been around the table. Simon and Kate were on each side of their daughter, Carter was across from her with Selby and their three boys, and Harrison and Georgina and the parents of Annabelle’s friend were on the same side of the table. She shrugged. “Everyone was there. I mean, Fleur brought the cake in, Simon turned off the lights, and we sang. It was only dark for a few seconds after Annabelle blew out the candles.”

“Which present was yours?” he asked.

“Annabelle hasn’t opened it yet. It’s big. A life-size mechanical dog.” She stared at him. “She never got to it, unfortunately.”

“I see. Have you been here all day?”

“No. I had some errands to run, and then went back to my hotel for a manicure and to pick up some things.”

“And which hotel was that?”

“The Four Seasons. Downtown.”

He wrote in his notepad, stopped, and looked at her again. “Was anyone acting strangely? Nervous?”