32. How To Stab Correctly

Two days later she had recovered her good spirits. Long, busy days at work had driven thoughts of Shaye, Catrina and the dagger from her mind.

As she drove to her meeting with Grant Ashbury, she relished the warm day and wondered if this was the day she would catch a killer.

He had welcomed her call, said he was looking forward to sharing what he knew about the rituals.

To prepare for the meeting she had explored his online presence and found his Pinterest account had a section devoted to the beach at Channel Lane Point. That startled her, until she remembered it was a popular beach

destination as well as a murder scene.

Ashbury had hundreds of photographs of people on the beach, the delicate part was most of them were young women lying in the sand or walking the beach in their bikinis. Many were close ups.

His other boards had fewer photos and included landscapes, sunsets, still lifes and medieval weapons, including ten pictures of daggers. Five of them were of the Stormont dagger.

Her friend Susan was on the reception desk.

“You again!” Susan said teasingly. “How are you?”

“Another day in paradise,” Kathy said with a laugh.

“Mr. Ashbury left a message for you,” Susan flipped the pages of her memo pad.

Kathy filled in the register and posed for the ID badge camera. The machine spit out a visitor’s badge with the usual awful picture of a startled criminal with no eyebrows. She clipped it to her blouse pocket.

“Mr. Ashbury will meet you in the cafeteria. I sent him a text when I saw you arrive, so he’ll be there waiting.”

The company cared about its employees and the cafeteria was one of their perks. Floor to ceiling windows flooded it with natural light, special coating kept out UV rays and heat but let in spectacular views of manicured lawns and the forest beyond.

Grant greeted her and looked like he was coming in for a hug, but she stuck out her hand and shook his firmly. He took it well, but placed his hand on her waist to lead her to a table.

:Sorry to trouble you but I really am interested in the dagger ceremony,” Kathy said.

“    I’m looking forward to this,” he said. “It’s always interesting to talk about the dagger, so this is no trouble at all. We’ll go to the corporate lounge which should be empty at this time of day.”

“Corporate lounge?” she said, “that sounds special.”

He chuckled. “It was designed for the execs, but now it’s open for any employees to retreat to if they need to work on ideas during lunch. From the cafeteria they can come in here, maybe call others in without losing momentum by having to return to an office.”

“Smart use of the space,” Kathy nodded approvingly.

“Exclusivity out, inclusivity in,” he said. “It benefits the company more this way than having senior staff linger over lunch. It gets used for ad hoc meetings or serious thinking that needs quiet or privacy, and it’s got a whiteboard so you don’t have to scribble ideas on a paper napkin.”

Kathy smiled at his enthusiasm and had to agree it was a good place to hang out. They settled into soft leather loveseats facing each other across a low table that held snacks in a big shallow bowl.

“Grant, I’m here because you know so much about the dagger and its rituals,” she began. He saluted her with a pretzel. “I want my story to be accurate. I would ask Gordon Stormont for more details, but he’s away, so I hope you don’t mind indulging me?” She smiled prettily.

“Not at all, and I don’t mind being second choice,” he joked as he woke his iPad and scrolled.

“I’ve got original notes from when I first studied the dagger,” he was peering at the screen. “The proposal ceremony is quite elaborate, do you want to go through the whole thing?” he glanced up questioningly.

She leaned forward trying to see his screen and he instinctively drew back then looked embarrassed.

“Right now I’m interested in what happened if a woman rejected a Stormont man’s proposal.”

He narrowed his eyes and studied her for a moment, cleared his throat and began. “The legend is very old, probably adapted from a tale brought back from the Holy Lands along with the gemstone. Someone wrote down the details of the ceremony a couple of hundred years ago, but before that it had been passed down orally. No doubt there were changes to the rituals, and as times changed I’m sure the family saw fit to adapt, but here is what I know.

“Having offered the knife to his intended, the man steps close and takes the knife back with his right hand. He holds the blade down beside his right leg. He places his left hand on her shoulder and again formally asks for her hand in marriage. If she refuses and he accepts her answer he will hold the knife briefly to his own breast, bow low, and take his leave.” He watched her closely as he continued.

“If he does not accept her refusal, he has the option to take her life.” He paused and waited for her reaction.

Kathy gasped, then swallowed hard. “Go on.”

“If he chooses that option, he is to swiftly raise the dagger and stab her between the second and third ribs on her left side, driving the dagger into her heart.”

Kathy flinched, and Grant looked gratified which irritated her, but she said in a small voice, “Oh dear, this is fascinating.”

Ashbury glanced at his iPad as if to check the next step. “He uses his left arm to hold the girl and lay her on the ground. Something to do with chivalry I believe, cradle her respectfully as she dies, don’t just make a quick exit left.” His flippancy was inappropriate, considering the recent murder, but Kathy let it pass.

“The legend is quite specific, if he doesn’t show the proper respect and hold the woman and all that, he will be cursed. I’m afraid I don’t know what the curse entails, but it’s generally unwise to ignore them,” he said seriously and then, unexpectedly, he laughed.