by C. J. Archer
"He certainly is," I said. "The question is, why?"
Duke, Cyclops and Willie returned in time for dinner. At Miss Glass's insistence, they changed their attire, but only superficially. The men exchanged their neckerchiefs for clean ones and Willie changed her waistcoat and neckerchief. It was more than I expected her to do. She also did it without grumbling. She was in a good mood.
"Did you discover if any of Hendry's neighbors saw Emmett?" Matt asked after dinner had been served.
"Not now, Matthew," Miss Glass said on a sigh. "You ought to know that discussion of your investigations are not to occur over the dinner table."
He apologized, and I switched to talking about our shopping expedition and Matt's idea to redecorate. I watched Miss Glass for signs that the suggestion to redecorate upset her, but she seemed quite amendable.
"Your father's taste was excellent," she told Matt. "But it's all rather old fashioned now. I have a lot of ideas, India. Shall we discuss them after dinner?"
"I'd loved to."
Willie looked at me as if I were mad.
"Would you like to help us?" I asked her.
"I'd rather pull all my teeth out, sober." She raised her glass of wine in salute. "But you enjoy yourself."
"I have magazines in my room," Miss Glass said. "Modern ones with modern ideas," she added with a pointed glare for Willie. "Then we can go shopping."
While Miss Glass didn't like discussing murder investigations over the dinner table, she had no such qualms once dinner had finished. We sat in the drawing room, she with a magazine on her lap and a stack on the table beside her, while I listened to Cyclops's report.
"Hendry's immediate neighbors on both sides of the shop didn't notice a customer matching Emmett's description," he said. "But two doors down, at the shoemaker, an American came in to have his spare pair of boots repaired."
"Did he match Emmett's description?" Matt asked.
"The shoemaker couldn't remember much about the fellow's looks, only his accent."
"It's not a certainty that it was Emmett then."
"It's a good chance," Willie said.
"I prefer certainties over chances. We need to find out for sure if it was Emmett."
"Ain't no use in asking the neighbors again," Duke said, rising. "Who's coming to The Prince of Wales to watch Willie play Danny?"
We all decided to go, much to Miss Glass's dismay. She'd wanted to talk about decorating. I asked her to make notes and gave her a pencil and paper to write down her ideas. She was busily flipping the pages of another magazine when we left.
The Prince of Wales was full of Americans again. Annie Oakley was there, having a drink with May. They were within sight of Danny, looking relaxed at a table, cards in hand. Each player had a modest pile of coins stacked in front of them.
"Mind if I join you?" Willie asked.
"Go right ahead." Emmett pulled out a spare chair for her and beamed. "This here's Willie," he told the others. "She's a real good player."
I left them to their cards and joined May and Annie, seated on high stools. The evening was still early but the smell of ale and tobacco was so thick it was eye-watering.
"Is it wise to bring your friend?" Annie Oakley asked with a nod at Duke. "No one particularly liked Emmett but he was one of us."
The ripple of chatter had increased upon our entry but had since died down. Some of the men watched Duke but they didn't seem particularly hostile. Matt surveyed the room, his gaze sweeping back and forth, watchful.
"We'll leave if it looks like there'll be trouble," I assured her.
"That handsome fellow your fiancé?" Annie asked.
"He is. He's American too, on his mother's side."
"He dresses like an English toff."
I smiled. Matt would hate to know that others saw him as a toff. "He wanted to come tonight and meet all of you. He has taken quite an interest in poor Emmett's murder, as it happens."
"What kind of an interest?" May asked, staring at Matt with such intensity that it was a wonder he couldn't feel it.
"He's curious about the beautiful blonde woman we saw here the other night. Did you notice her, Miss Oakley?"
"Call me Annie," she said. "I ain't Miss Oakley anyway on account of I'm married and Oakley is a stage name. I did notice that woman. Who could miss her? She was real pretty. But I don't know who she is. An acquaintance of Emmett's, I suppose, but she didn't go up to him that night."
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Course I'm sure. She sat over there." She pointed to a table near the door. "She was alone and wanted to stay on her own, although several of these deadbeats tried to buy her drinks. She wanted nothing to do with them." She chuckled into her beer.
"You hadn't seen her before?" I asked. "Perhaps back in America?"
"Nope."
"But you must meet a lot of people."
"I do, but I'd remember a face like hers. She was a real beauty."
May eyed her sideways.
"Did Emmett pay her any attention?" I asked.
"No, but maybe he didn't see her," Annie said. "When he's playing he focuses real hard on the cards. Doesn't he, May?"
May agreed. "The outside world ceases to exist for him."
"I've even seen him talking to himself, muttering away like he's lost his mind."
I leaned forward. "What did he say?"
Annie shrugged and looked to May. May shrugged too.
"Were the words in English?"
"Why wouldn't they be?" Annie asked.
"Of course they would be," I mumbled. "I wonder if that woman was from Emmett's past. Perhaps she was American too."
"She was," Annie said. "So says Big Joe over there." She nodded at a tall fellow with a thick black beard. "He tried to sweet talk her. She told him to jump off a cliff, but he says she had an American accent."
"You spoke to him about her?" May asked.
"So?" Annie drained her beer and beckoned one of the serving women over. "Three beers."
"I don't drink beer," I said.
"You do tonight." Annie threw some money on the serving woman's tray and turned back to us. "I reckon that blonde was Emmett's girl, someone he jilted back home. She must have followed him here."
May wagged a finger at her, her eyes bright. "Yes. Annie, I think you're right. I think she killed him."
"Whoa, slow down. It's a big jump from jilted lover to murderer."
"I don't think so. I think women are very capable of murder, given the right circumstances. I know some very vengeful women."
"So do I. ‘Specially when their men have left them for another." Annie rubbed her jaw, much like a man would rub his whiskers as he thought. "Seems like a long way to come though, just to get revenge."
Revenge. The outlaw Jack Krane wanted to get his revenge on Emmett for cheating him at poker. Could the mysterious woman have been sent by Krane to keep an eye on him and perhaps report back? Or to murder him? It seemed so unlikely, yet I couldn't shake the thought.
"Have you seen her since Emmett's death?" I asked.
"Can't say I have," Annie said.
"If you do see her again, notify the police immediately. She might be important."
Annie saluted me. "Yes, ma'am."
I laughed. "You really ought to talk to my friend Willie. You're very similar."
"And I'd be glad to." She peered past me. "Seems she's winning."
"It's early yet," May said.
Matt had engaged two men in conversation. I suspected he was gathering information about Emmett too. Duke watched the card game over Willie's shoulder, and I spotted Cyclops winding his way back to them through the crowd, carrying several tankards.
"Do either of you know much about Emmett's past?" I asked.
"Nope," Annie said as the waitress deposited our beers on the table. "He came to Bill claiming he was a good shot. He proved it and he joined us."
"Just like that? No questions asked?"
"Why ask questions when you might no
t like the answers?" I must have looked shocked, because she laid a hand on my arm. "You seem like a nice girl, India. I bet you live an easy life, all protected from the world, nice parents, food on the table. That ain't a bad thing. It just means you don't understand people like me, people who've had it rough. Maybe Emmett had a rough time too and wanted to leave his past behind. He wouldn't be the first to join Bill Cody's show to escape."
May drained half her glass in one gulp then suppressed a belch. "I think I should keep an eye on my husband. I don't want him losing more than we can afford."
I waited for her to leave before sidling closer to Annie. "It seems Danny loses often. How can he afford it?"
She shrugged. "Don't know and I don't care. Ain't none of my business, and it ain't none of yours."
"But aren't you curious?"
She chucked me under the chin with her finger. "Let's go watch. I want to get to know this friend of yours."
We rejoined the game and watched Danny's losing streak continue. As the game wore on, his wife grew more and more interested. Her smiles remained, but they grew harder, and the fingers clutching Danny's shoulder turned white at the knuckles.
Danny lost every last penny. May stormed off without a word, pushing her way through the crowd. Danny raced after her, calling her name.
"You play well," Annie said to Willie.
Willie turned. Her jaw dropped when she realized who was talking to her. She nodded her thanks and a pitiful smile flirted with her lips before disappearing. She raked her winnings toward her, then attempted to stuff the money into her pockets. Several coins dropped on the floor and rolled away.
Annie laughed. Willie flushed scarlet which made Annie laugh more. She flung an arm around Willie's waist and squeezed. "How about you buy me a drink with them winnings? India says you and me would get along, and I want to see if she's judged me right. I drink beer. What about you?"
"Anything," Willie said, a little breathless.
Matt, Cyclops, Duke and I left the pub, although Duke cast a glance back at the door from the street. "Is it a good idea to leave those two alone?" he asked. "I got the feeling they could get into a whole lot of trouble in one night."
Cyclops slapped Duke on the shoulder and steered him toward our waiting carriage. "Just look forward to hearing the account in the morning."
I told them what I'd learned from Annie about the mysterious blonde on the way home. "I also asked about Emmett's past, but neither May nor Annie knew anything. I saw you two making inquiries," I said to Matt and Cyclops. "What did you learn?"
"Same as you," Cyclops said.
"Very little then."
Matt clasped my hand, placing it on his knee. "It seems Danny isn't capable of winning without Emmett's magic. He played badly tonight."
"I wonder if he knew about the magic," Duke said.
"We could ask," Cyclops said. "Or maybe we shouldn't. Not yet."
"Let's not mention magic unless we have no other recourse," Matt said.
I agreed. "May seemed very angry. She, at least, must have thought him capable of winning without Emmett. How disappointing for her to be proven wrong."
Before Willie had even risen the following morning, Matt and I received a note summoning us to Lord Coyle's house. He showed it to me over breakfast. I felt the blood drain from my face as I read.
I screwed it up and gave it to Bristow to throw away. "I don't think we should go."
"I tend to agree," Matt said.
I let out a breath, more relieved than I cared to admit. It wasn't that I thought Coyle would betray our secret arrangement to Matt—the arrangement that resulted in Matt being free to marry me. It was more that I worried that I would betray it. Thinking about the secret made me feel ill. I hated to keep anything from Matt. It felt like a betrayal.
It was a betrayal. That's how he would see it, even though I'd done it for us. He'd been adamant that we wouldn't ask for Coyle's help in forcing Lord Cox to marry Patience. He'd been worried about the price Coyle would ask of me. A price I still didn't know.
Telling Matt about the secret would ruin the trust he had in me. It could ruin his love for me. And I didn't trust myself not to give anything away once confronted with Lord Coyle's commanding presence. Avoiding him was best.
"On the other hand," Matt said. "We should find out what he wants. He said it was important."
I didn't eat any of my breakfast. I couldn't even swallow my tea. What if Coyle wanted to call in the debt I owed him?
Chapter 6
My first reaction upon seeing other members of the collector's club in Lord Coyle's drawing room was relief. He wouldn't call in my debt with them present. Upon further thought, I realized he would have no such qualms asking me to repay him in front of them. Considering his price would be something of a magical nature, it was likely to involve the other members anyway.
Oh God.
I stood just inside the doorway, unable to move until Matt placed his hand on my back and gently urged me forward. Mrs. Delancey embraced me as if we were old friends before sitting and patting the space beside her on the sofa.
"Sit with me, India," she cooed. "You remember Lady Louisa, don't you?"
"Just Louisa," said the woman on my other side. "I don't like titles."
I'd met her at Mrs. Delancey's soiree some weeks ago. She'd been a curious figure, suggesting all manner of things about magic, including hinting that the language of magic had not been entirely lost. She'd considered me powerful. They all did because I didn't need spells to make timepieces work faultlessly. Lord Coyle had also told them that my watch saved my life, but I hadn't confirmed the tale. I suspected it didn't matter. They believed him.
Louisa smiled at me. It was kind and encouraging, yet I couldn't shake the unease I felt around her. At the soiree, she'd been bold with her words, to the point of not caring if she upset her hostess. For a woman so young and in an elevated position, such boldness was unusual. She reminded me of Matt's niece, Hope Glass, the youngest of the three Glass girls. She was fierce and clever, yet manipulative and selfish too. It remained to be seen if Louisa was cut from the same cloth.
Lord Coyle introduced Matt to Louisa. "She has been a member of our little group only briefly, but has quickly inveigled herself into this inner circle. We have Mrs. Delancey to thank for that."
Mrs. Delancey's smile slipped at his caustic tone, but Louisa gave a soft laugh. "They're still getting used to me," she told me in an aside which the entire room would have heard.
"You know everyone else," Coyle added with a flick of his wrist to indicate the other guests.
Aside from both Mr. and Mrs. Delancey and Louisa, there was Sir Charles Whittaker and Professor Nash. Nash wasn't a member of the club, but our first meeting with him had been in Lord Coyle's dining room. He looked rather nervous, his eyes huge behind his spectacles and his finger tapping out a silent rhythm on his teacup. When he gave his head a slight shake at me, I realized why. He didn't want these people to know he was helping Oscar Barratt write a book on magic, and he was afraid we'd say something. I gave him a smile that I hoped was reassuring but may have failed, since I wasn't at all reassured that my own secret was safe. Nash continued to tap his finger against the cup.
"Tea, Miss Steele?" Lord Coyle asked.
"Thank you." The butler peeled away from his unobtrusive position against the wall and poured a cup for me.
"Something stronger, Glass?" Coyle asked.
Matt's gaze wandered to the glass domed clock on the mantel. It had just gone eleven. "Tea will be fine." He waited until the butler let himself out and closed the door, then said, "Is this an ambush?"
Mrs. Delancey laughed musically. "Of course not."
Sir Charles and Mr. Delancey chimed in with reassurances too. Coyle tapped his pipe on the table and opened his tobacco tin.
"Do you mind not smoking in here?" Louisa asked.
A moment of stunned silence enveloped us as we all stared at her. Lord Coyle stared too, his jow
ls trembling in indignation. "Well, aren't you precocious? This is my house, or have you forgotten?"
"I would be most grateful, sir. The smoke makes my eyes water, and the effect is quite unsightly."
He snapped the tin lid closed. "I suppose it is already stuffy enough in here."
Sometimes I wondered if pretty women had a power that other women don't possess, something that went beyond superficial looks. Something that made men do their bidding. Louisa wasn't beautiful but she was certainly pretty with a slim figure I could never achieve. And of course there was her confidence, an alluring quality in both men and women. Coupled with a flutter of her eyelashes, she cast quite a powerful spell.
"I'm surprised to see you here, Professor," Matt said, picking up his teacup. "Have you become a member?"
Nash shook his head. "Lord Coyle was gracious enough to invite me, although I'm not yet sure why." He gave a nervous smile into his teacup before sipping.
"Perhaps his lordship can enlighten us before everyone's imagination runs wild."
"Gladly." Lord Coyle helped himself to cake from the plate then belatedly realized he hadn't offered any to the rest of us. "Cake?" he asked.
Only Mr. Delancey took a slice.
"We are on tenterhooks, my lord," Mrs. Delancey said. "What is this about?"
"It's regarding a little project that Sir Charles and I have been conducting in recent weeks."
Everyone looked to Sir Charles. He pounced on the cake too. "This looks delicious."
Coyle finished his slice then reached for another before going on. "Sir Charles has been watching cast members of Buffalo Bill's Wild West show, trying to determine if any are magicians."
Mrs. Delancey made a scoffing noise, but the others took Coyle more seriously. Only the professor looked as relieved as I felt. It would seem both our secrets were safe, for now.
"Why?" Mr. Delancey asked.
"Chiefly because we suspected the sharpshooters might be some kind of metal magicians," Coyle said. "Their accuracy is astounding. Inhuman, one could say. We suspected they might be manipulating the bullets with a spell."