Although her precis of the scenario changed into so at odds with Agenor’s, Beheim heard a hoop of reality in her words and absorbed them with at least resentment. It is probably, he thought, that female Alexandra’s intervention was made from the mysterious alliance of which Agenor had spoken. “So,” Beheim said, “you’ve got come to make the first pass.” She again a respectful shrug and strolled throughout the room to the tapestry and made a show of analyzing it; then she leaned against it, looking at Beheim with undisguised leisure. Her white face and reddish hair stood out sharply towards the black tangle of the evil forest, searching as though one of the mysterious denizens hiding a few of the branches had been currently retouched. She held up the bottle cap between thumb and forefinger. “This belongs to one in all my cousins.” She paused—for dramatic impact, or so Beheim assumed. “To Felipe Aruzzi de Valea.”
Beheim took advantage of the name. Felipe Aruzzi de Valea: the patriarch of the Valeas; an associate and partner of Roland Agenor’s; a blood researcher of the greatest standing; considered a moderate in the discussions presently seething. But then of late, he had become the admirer of Lady Dolores Cascarin y Ribera. It was supposed that the Lady Alexandra was not, at this point Felipe’s ally, that she had adjusted herself to Lady Dolores and different traditionalists against Agenor and his companions, and that she tried to unseat Felipe as the head of the Valens. He didn’t know he accepted that Alexandra had gotten a traditionalist; it was more probable she was professing to be one to merge her force and impact some aspiration, be it the unseating of Felipe or something different. He didn’t question that she was coming clean about the responsibility for bottle cap—a falsehood would be excessively effortlessly recognized.
However, when he thought about the intricacies of the circumstance, the assortment of plots that may be busy working, plots of political importance to both the Valeas and the Family, all in all, he was visited by another profundity of comprehension concerning the homicide, raised to a range from which he could see obviously and with extraordinary detail the labyrinth of potential interests encompassing the wrongdoing. Imagine a scenario in which Alexandra was endeavoring to destroy Felipe by providing bogus proof that seemed to implicate him. Also, had she or one of her darlings done the homicide? Or on the other hand, had Felipe been the culprit? Or on the other hand, could this be another obscured back street, another misuse of valuable time? In their assertions, Felipe and Dolores had utilized each other to build up their whereabouts during the hour of the homicide. Might not this imply that they had both been available on the turret? Or on the other hand was their issue a component of a bigger plan, a strategy concerning Lady Dolores to kill an intense enemy? Or on the other hand, was Agenor himself playing a game?
Increasingly more Beheim started to recognize Agenor’s fine hand at work in this questionable matter, and this made him accept that the solutions to his inquiries would be of a little second. Knowing the personality of the proprietor of the jug cap may serve no more to enlighten the dark field of the wrongdoing than did Lady Alexandra’s head enlighten the dim forefront of the woven artwork against which she was inclining. It’s anything but a start, sufficiently genuine. However by providing a solitary answer, she had just expanded the number of inquiries he would be compelled to pose; subsequently, generally, he was at a more prominent misfortune than previously. He looked up at Lady Alexandra, who was grinning extensively. “Presently do you see?” she said and giggled—a melodic quaver as exact as a piano exercise.
“You must choose the option to permit yourself to be moved from one square to another, to trust that our enthusiastic blunders will guide you to a fruitful end.” She strolled gradually toward him, as smooth in her methodology as a wend in a stream diverting brilliant water; the frightful custom of her white face appeared to be both shrewd and imperative, similar to a face painted on a bloom wake up. “Something more. Felipe and Dolores are animals of propensity. A few hours before sunrise, they will secure themselves away from Felipe’sbedchamber, and there they will stay for the afternoon. His workers are among those as of now helping your examination. It won’t be hard to ensure that they are kept occupied. If you mean to look through his lofts, you may do as such around then. It won’t be so incredible a danger.