The words blurred as he read the last sentences. The police considered her a person of interest…would be held under arrest until further notice. Any information regarding Miss Knightly or Arthur McGinnis’ death should be directed to the Scotland Yard.
Dante’s throat went dry. Could she have been able to kill a man? He recalled her anger toward the man when they spoke. Perhaps she was angry, but murderous? It didn’t seem very likely. Of course, he didn’t know much about the woman other than their conversation on the curb, but surely, she wasn’t responsible.
He folded the newspaper and placed it on the coffee table in front of him.
“You look a bit pale,” Sebastian said.
“Pale? Under all these bruises, perhaps?” he chuckled with little enthusiasm, hoping to detract from his real reaction. Bickers returned with a silver tray full of scones and tea. Dante was grateful for the distraction, for Sebastian forgot the conversation and turned his attention to the food.
They ate in silence for a moment. It gave Dante time to think about the woman he met the night before. He wondered if she would still be at the hotel he watched her enter. He considered going there to talk to her.
The question still nagged him. What if she was responsible for the murder? The notion kept returning to the forefront of his mind. She was very bitter about the man who released her. She didn’t appear to be psychotic. Reflecting on the way she held the handkerchief to his lip, long after it had quit bleeding; Dante couldn’t imagine her putting those delicate hands to use of slashing a man’s throat. Her eyes hadn’t been full of anger or hatred. He scoffed out loud before he realized it. Sebastian narrowed his eyes at him.
“What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing,” Dante responded a little too quickly. Sebastian cocked his head to the side. Great, Dante thought, now he’ll suspect something. The last thing he needed was for Sebastian to get involved. He trusted his friend enough to share some details, but not enough for them all. He was a shifty character, one who would smile and be genuinely concerned for one’s welfare, while he picked their back pocket. He knew no different, unfortunately.
He’d learned Sebastian’s tricks fast and even mastered a few of his own while growing up. Having a somewhat perfect family situation, Dante found himself bored of home life. He spent many a night courting danger and risky pursuits with Sebastian in his company.
Dante wasn’t terribly proud of those moments, but he managed to make it up to his family. The drinking and gambling got out of control and once he’d lost his father’s prized racing horse and shamed the family, Dante’s recklessness skidded to a halt. He only kept company with Sebastian because his father was now deceased and he felt some kind of family bond with him, even if it kept him at arm’s length. Sebastian never managed to keep proper employment, yet always found his way around making a living. He stole, lied, and cheated his way into a posh apartment, food in many of the finest places, and of course–entertainment.
Dante thought of the previous night and how he came to be there. Sebastian had met Dante at the cemetery after his father’s funeral. Sebastian lured him, still dressed in his somber clothes to Miss Merriweather’s with the intention of dismissing morbid thoughts of the dead patriarch. Dante was aware Sebastian didn’t care one whit about his father, he just wanted to find a prostitute, and he didn’t want to go alone. Uncaring and numb, Dante just wished to be free of his own thoughts.
Much to Sebastian’s dismay, Miss Merriweather’s had done away with the seedier side of business recently. Even Dante, who hadn’t set foot in the place in months, knew the change of hands meant a new lease on the old entertainment establishment. Not that he minded, of course–he wouldn’t have met the graceful Miss Knightly had he not come.
Though now, thinking of the acrobat and possible murderess, it brought him around full circle to things he didn’t want to think of anyway.
Dante tipped back his teacup and drained the now cooled contents. Clearing his throat, he met Sebastian’s eye contact. “I hate to do so, but I need to run a few errands.” He stood a little too fast and held his ribs in pain. The throbbing clouded his vision for a moment and Dante thought he’d be sick. With a few shallow breaths, the pain receded and opened his eyes to see Sebastian already at the door.
“That’s fine, mate. I shall call on you later.” Within seconds, his friend had closed the door behind him.
Curious…Dante thought, frowning–then fell to the floor.
Chapter 3
Entering through the front of Miss Merriweather’s during the day was awkward, Delilah soon realized as the gilt door closed behind her. The looks and stares of passersby were a bit disconcerting. Yet, Delilah took a deep breath and held her head high as she strode through the main dining hall and to the hall of offices into the underbelly of Miss Merriweather’s. It confused her why they were staring though…unless it was because of last night’s debacle. News of her dismissal must have spread quickly.
As Delilah reached Miss Johnsworth’s office, she began to hear familiar voices. She peered through the partially closed door. She could make out the voice of Jillian Johnsworth without seeing her face. From this angle, she recognized Charlie facing the desk where Miss Johnsworth sat. He was holding his hat in his hands, fidgeting.
“Mr. Grum, what were the reasons behind dismissing her?” Jillian Johnsworth asked Charlie, who shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“There was an incident last night with her outfit.”
“An incident?”
“Yes, she were doing her finale–the upside down bit–and ‘er top came loose. It fell on some bloke’s head in the front row. Artie damn near passed out on the spot to see ‘er front parts,” Charlie responded, his face turning red.
Jillian scoffed. “So he dismissed her for a faulty costume?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Hmm.”
Delilah couldn’t see what she was doing, but heard papers shuffling around.
“Doesn’t seem like a good enough reason to dismiss her straight away. What was the crowd’s reaction?”
“Oh they loved her, Miss Johnsworth. So much hootin’ and clapping. They love her so.”
Delilah’s throat tightened and she feared she would cry.
“Do you know if she went home after she was dismissed?”
“No, ma’am. Not to be prying in her business, but Delilah was evicted from her home the night before. I offered her a place to stay with me and me missus, but she turned me down.”
Delilah heard sniffing and saw Charlie dab his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. “I should ‘ave been more demanding. She wouldn’t be in this mess. She’s a nice girl, Miss Johnsworth. A bit rough around the edges, perhaps, but there’s no way Miss Delilah could have killed that bloke.”
Delilah’s eyes widened and her previously tight throat all but closed.
“All right, Charles. I appreciate your candor. I’ll note your visit with me and let the officers know. I shall advise you if anything further will be necessary. If you have any contact with her, please let me know.”
“Thank you, Miss Johnsworth.” As he stood, he donned and tipped his hat, and then walked toward the door. Delilah backed away from it and darted into an empty office across the hall, shutting the door before he saw her.
She cracked it open and watched Charlie stop and talk to a few people. They milled around chatting about things she couldn’t hear and then watched them disperse, leaving the hall empty. Without anything else to do for the moment, she turned around to face the dimly lit room. A musty, metallic scent of something familiar reached her