My mind trundled forward. ‘Le Conte’s research area . . . it could fit with Dacre’s. In our first lecture, he said something like “We natural theologians provide arguments for the existence of God based on reason and rationality, and where better to do so than a former convent?”’
Like a sudden burst of light, something Feathering told me in the clubhouse came back to me. ‘Oh! And Kate said she was late to meet Mordue because she’d been delayed helping a professor with something. That’s pretty weird given it was midnight. What if Dacre or Le Conte were intentionally holding her up?’
Lottie nodded slowly, then very quickly. ‘Because by then they knew Mordue needed Feathering to perform her ritual at the same time each night. They wanted to see what would happen if the ritual couldn’t take place at the right time.’
Hafsah squinted as though blinded by something. ‘Why would Dacre want to see that?’
Lottie’s eyes were ablaze with excitement. ‘Because he’s studying the Society. This is all part of some wider experiment on female violence. He’s old and crusty and almost irrelevant in the field of philosophy. Such unprecedented research would bring him back to the forefront.’
I nodded passionately. ‘It fits. He saw me snap with anger when I first arrived, and literally days later he chose me as his mentee, even though I’d requested Professor Arundel. He delivered the news to Le Conte himself.’ I shuddered with retrospective understanding. ‘He must’ve known I was a prime candidate for the Society. I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew I attacked Harris too.’ I pictured him and Le Conte salivating over my actions and felt sick with loathing. ‘And if all this is true . . . I betheplanted the book in the library for me to find.’ Lottie gasped. ‘Remember when I was waiting for you outside Dacre’s seminar room, and the rubies were thrumming so hard they were making me gag? It was most intense when he was leading us to the medical office, and it eased off almost as soon as he left me there. I think Sister Maria was trying to warn me about him.’ She held two fingers to her throat. ‘Sorry, babes. I should’ve listened.’
I laughed despite the situation. Only Lottie could find herself possessed by the spirit of a wrathful nun and call her ‘babes’.
There were still a few threads left hanging – like Le Conte’s possible involvement – but it had started to feel like we were nearing a conclusion.
I picked up the floppy. ‘So what do you think is on here?’ At that point, I was rapidly beginning to trust Lottie’s instincts over my own.
Fiddling with the zipper on her hoodie, she said, ‘My thinking is that he’s fully aware of what the Society for Soulless Girls has been up to. If my theory is correct and he’s been watching Mordue for all these years, then he’s bound to have kept close enough tabs on her to realise where she goes every night. So maybe this floppy contains notes on all the Society’s members. Or maybe . . .’ She bit her bottom lip, and it flushed dark purple. ‘Maybe it’s surveillance.’
My blood ran cold. Mordue had told me there weren’t any security cameras on campus, but that didn’t mean they didn’t exist. What if they were hidden? Worse, what if they were unofficial – installed by Dacre for his own private use?
What if Dacre had seen everything that had happened in the library when I first performed the ritual? In the clubhouse when Feathering had dragged me in unconscious? In the Observatory when Mordue had pushed Poppy to her death?
If he had footage of all of that, and he hadn’t turned it over to the police, it meant he had his own agenda. Lottie’s theory fitted that agenda perfectly.
But these were several bigifs, based on nothing but academic theory.
I sat up in bed and tugged the duvet up to my neck. I was still freezing from the night before. ‘What do we do now?’
Lottie tucked her heels up on to the chair and hugged her knees to her chest. ‘I think we need to focus on getting those missing ritual pages back first.’
‘If he still has them,’ I pointed out.
Lottie nodded. ‘When I flipped through the calendar on his desk, I saw he’s meeting “the Chamber” tonight at a pub in town. The Red Lion. I don’t know what the Chamber is, but it might be relevant. We should go. Maybe confront him, if the opportunity arises.’
I shook my head at her, but not in a disdainful way; more disbelieving. ‘You really do just barrel into situations without any regard for your own safety, don’t you?’
She grinned, displaying white, slightly overlapping teeth and the two deep dimples on her cheeks. ‘I have my murderous goth to protect me.’
My stomach clenched at this, but I disguised it with a smile so tight it pulled at my scar. ‘Howdidyou get the floppy disk from Dacre’s office, anyway?’
‘The old crank constantly has his window slightly wedged open. For Salem, remember? He props it up with a thesaurus.’
I stared at her. ‘His office is on the second floor.’
Another broad smile. ‘Drainpipes.’