“I could ask you the same question,” Malloy said mildly.
“I have some business with Madame Serafina,” he informed them both. “I was told she is here.”
“Who told you that?” Malloy asked with interest.
“Professor Rogers was kind enough to give me the information. He’s been quite worried about her, and he asked if I could locate Mrs. Brandt and make sure Madame Serafina is all right.”
“She’s just fine,” Malloy told him, “so you can be on your way.”
Sharpe gave him a look that had probably intimidated many underlings and a multitude of servants, but it didn’t phase Malloy, who gave it right back. “I told you,” Sharpe tried indignantly, “I have business with Madame Serafina.”
“What kind of business?” Malloy insisted.
“Mr. Sharpe,” Serafina said, surprising them all. While they had been arguing, she had come out and stood just inside the office doorway. She still wore the clothes she had worn to the morgue, the ones that made her look like an ordinary young woman, but something about her had changed ever so subtly now that Sharpe was here, Sarah noticed. She carried herself differently, and her voice was lower, more sensual. “How kind of you to come.”
“Madame Serafina,” he said, brushing past Sarah and Frank to meet her as she crossed Sarah’s office, coming toward them. “How are you? You look like you’ve been crying,” he added with a glance of accusation at Sarah and Malloy.
“I am still mourning poor Mrs. Gittings,” she said without a trace of irony. “She was like a mother to me. I do not know how I can go on without her.” She held out her hand, and he grasped it eagerly with both of his.
“But you must!” Sharpe said. “Your work is too important. That’s why I’ve come, to make sure you can continue.”
“You are very good to me.” The look she gave him would have melted a much stronger man than John Sharpe.
Sarah suddenly realized that with Mrs. Gittings and Nicola both dead, Serafina was now free to take any of the offers that Mrs. Gittings had refused on her behalf. Sharpe’s offer to set her up in a house of her own had certainly been the most attractive and by far the most honorable.
“Mr. Sharpe,” Mrs. Decker greeted him as she came into the room as well.
Sharpe looked up in surprise and instantly dropped Serafina’s hand, as if he had been caught doing something unseemly. “Mrs. Decker, what are you doing here?”
“I’m visiting my daughter, Mr. Sharpe, and I must admit I’m amazed to see you here. However did you find us?”
“Mrs. Brandt is listed in the City Directory,” Sharpe said a bit defensively. “It was merely a matter of giving my driver the address.”
“But how did you know Madame Serafina was here?” Mrs. Decker asked with interest.
“The Professor told him,” Malloy reported before Sharpe could reply.
Sarah saw Catherine and Maeve lurking in the shadows just beyond the door. They would be watching the scene with avid interest. The only thing missing was Mrs. Ellsworth, and she was bound to show up any minute with a cake in hand to find out who Sarah’s latest visitor was.
“The Professor was worried about Madame Serafina,” Sharpe quickly explained.
“Then why didn’t he come himself?” Mrs. Decker said, asking the question Sarah and Malloy should have thought to ask. “If Mrs. Brandt is in the City Directory, he could have found her as easily as you did.”
“He . . . Well, he . . . That is . . .” Sharpe stammered. He really was a terrible liar, Sarah observed.
“What business was it you needed to discuss with Madame Serafina?” Sarah asked to save him from further embarrassment.
Sharpe frowned. “It’s private.”
Then Serafina made a small sound, closed her eyes, and held out her hand until her palm rested lightly on Sharpe’s chest. “You have come to make me an offer. It was very difficult for you to forget your pride and ask again when I had refused you before, but you must follow your heart, as your wife told you to do.”
“Yes, yes,” Sharpe said in happy amazement.
“But you did something you did not want to do, something you are ashamed to tell me,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken.
“No, I wouldn’t . . .” he tried, but she ignored his protest.
“The Professor, he wanted money,” she said. Then she gasped, as if surprised by her own revelation and her eyes flew open. “Did you give him money?” she asked in alarm.
Sharpe looked around again, as if trying to judge if he needed to be concerned about the opinion of anyone present. Apparently, he decided he didn’t. “Only a little,” he finally admitted.
“That is not true,” Serafina informed him imperiously.
Sharpe actually quailed under her rebuke. “I only gave him a small amount, just what I was carrying with me.”
“He would not betray me for a small amount.” Her certainty was absolute, and Sarah wondered how she could be so sure of the Professor’s loyalty.
Sharpe proved to be no match for her will. “I had to promise him more before he would tell me where you were.”
“I would have told you for nothing,” Frank informed him.
Sharpe glared at him and would have responded, but Serafina cut him off. “You must not give him any more money. He will run away, and we cannot let him run away.”
“Why not?” Sarah asked, stepping forward, intrigued by Serafina’s performance and wanting to see how far she would go with it.
“He knows who killed Mrs. Gittings.”
“How do you know?” Malloy demanded.
“I feel it.”
“Then why didn’t he tell me when I questioned him?” Malloy asked with a trace of irritation.
“He may not realize that he knows,” Serafina said.
“You should go see him,” Maeve said, surprising everyone, who turned to where she stood with Catherine in the doorway. “Maybe you can help him remember.”
Serafina dropped the hand she’d been holding to Sharpe’s chest and turned to Sarah. “She is right. We must go back to that house. The answer is there.”
14
DEAD SILENCE GREETED SERAFINA’S SUGGESTION. AS THE technical hostess to this motley group, however unwilling she may have been in the role, Sarah felt obligated to break the awkward silence.
“What do you think will happen if you go back to the house?”
Serafina turned her remarkable eyes on Sarah, and once again Sarah marveled at the charismatic power the girl possessed and her seeming ability to turn it off and on at will. “We will find out who killed Mrs. Gittings.”
“How will you do that?” Sarah asked.
Serafina raised her chin. “The spirits will tell me.” She turned the force of her gaze back to Sharpe. “You will return with me, will you not?”
He didn’t look as if the idea appealed to him very much. “Is that really necessary?” he tried. “I thought the Italian boy killed her.”
The girl’s eyes blazed with fury. “No, he did not.” She turned to Malloy. “I will prove he did not, but I must return to the place where it happened, so the spirits can speak to me.”
“Couldn’t you speak to them here, dear?” Mrs. Decker asked, obviously trying to be helpful. No one wanted to go back to that house on Waverly Place.
“They will not be able to find me here,” Serafina declared.
“I don’t know why not,” Malloy murmured for Sarah’s ears only. “You’re in the City Directory.”
Startled into a laugh, Sarah had to cough to cover it. Serafina gave her a disapproving glance, then turned her attention back to Sharpe. “We must reenact the séance,” she was saying. “Everyone must be in their exact places.”
“I can’t imagine the others will want to do that,” Mrs. Decker protested in alarm. “Mrs. Burke has taken to her bed from the shock. She couldn’t possibly go out.”
“I could take her place,” Maeve offered.
Serafina shook her head. “Mrs. Bu
rke will come,” she said confidently. “Mrs. Decker will come, will you not?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “And Mr. Cunningham will also come, if I ask him. Only the real killer would refuse. Am I not right, Mr. Sharpe?”
Sharpe had to swallow before replying. “Yes, of course, my dear,” he agreed, but he still looked as if he’d bitten into something unpleasant.
“We must send them word,” Serafina said. “We will arrange it for tomorrow morning.” She turned back to Maeve and said, “You will sit in for Mrs. Gittings.”
Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but Malloy grabbed her arm, startling her into silence and giving Maeve the opportunity to reply.
“I’d be happy to,” she said with obvious satisfaction.
“It is settled. You will be there at ten o’clock?” she asked Sharpe.
“If you’re sure this is the right thing to do,” he hedged.
“It is. You will be there, and when it is over, I will give you my answer to your offer.” She graced him with a dazzling smile that promised he would not be disappointed.
Sharpe could not possibly resist. “Yes, I’ll be there.”
“What about the Professor?” Mrs. Decker asked suddenly. “Shouldn’t you tell him we’re coming?”
“I will send him a message that we are coming and to be ready,” Serafina said. “He will expect Mr. Sharpe to bring him money, so he will be there. But you will not give him money,” she added to Sharpe. “If you do, he will leave, and he must be there during the séance.”
“Yes, yes, whatever you wish,” Sharpe assured her.
Serafina nodded, satisfied she had his support. “I am sorry, but I must be alone now to prepare for tomorrow. Until then,” she said and gave Sharpe her hand again. He took it in both of his and for an instant Sarah thought he might kiss it, but he simply bowed over it, and stepped back when she withdrew her hand again.
She turned and moved past Sarah and Frank and silently ascended the stairs, moving so gracefully that her feet might not have even been touching the floor.
When she was gone, Mrs. Decker said, “Well,” breaking the second awkward silence. “This should be very interesting.”
“Do you really think Mrs. Burke is too ill to attend?” Sharpe asked with a frown.
“I don’t know,” she said with a meaningful glance at Sarah, who recalled her mother’s theory that Mrs. Burke was simply pretending to be sick. “I’ll take her the message personally, though, so she’ll understand the urgency. Perhaps that will persuade her to make the effort.”
“I can go see Cunningham,” Sharpe said. “He’ll do anything Madame Serafina asks of him, I’m sure,” he added with obvious disdain.
“Try to get to him before he goes out for the evening,” Malloy suggested. “Otherwise, he’ll be too hung over to be much use to us.”
Sharpe scowled, but he nodded his understanding, then made his apologies to Mrs. Decker and to Sarah and took his leave.
“Oh, my,” Mrs. Decker said when he was gone, “what have we gotten ourselves into?”
Sarah looked up the stairs where Serafina had disappeared and wondered if she should go after the girl. She’d had a terrible shock today at the morgue, seeing Nicola’s body, and now she had made plans to relive Mrs. Gittings’s murder. She really shouldn’t be alone, but before she could decide what to do, Maeve came up beside her and called, “He’s gone! You can come back down!”
She’d brought Catherine with her, holding the child’s hand, and Catherine instantly moved to Sarah’s side. Sarah instinctively reached down and picked her up, settling the child on her hip.
Serafina appeared at the top of the stairs and hurried down. “Did he say he would visit Mr. Cunningham?” she asked before she even reached the bottom of the steps.
“Yes, and Mrs. Decker is going to visit Mrs. Burke,” Maeve told her. “Do you think you should write her a note?”
“Yes, I must,” Serafina said. “She is afraid to come, so I must make her more afraid not to come.”
“But that’s cruel,” Mrs. Decker protested.
“Not if she is the killer,” Serafina said coldly.
Maeve bit back a grin. “There’s writing paper here in the desk,” she said, leading the other girl over to the desk that had been Sarah’s husband’s. She started opening drawers and pulling out the items Serafina needed.
“Sarah, you’ll go with us, won’t you?” Mrs. Decker asked. Sarah had rarely seen her mother so unsure of herself. “If that’s all right,” she added to Serafina.
“Oh, yes,” the girl said absently as she selected a sheet of writing paper. “She must be there to see who the killer is.”
“So you’ll go?” Mrs. Decker asked Sarah to confirm.
“Of course, Mother. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
“I don’t want to go,” Catherine informed everyone.
“You can stay with Mrs. Ellsworth, sweetheart,” Sarah assured her, then she turned to Malloy. “I’ll tell you everything that happens.”
“You won’t need to,” Malloy replied smugly. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything either. Besides, if the spirits are going to tell her who the killer is, I need to be there to arrest him. Or her.” He glanced meaningfully at Mrs. Decker, who gasped in outrage.
“I hardly even knew that woman!” she reminded him.
“He’s only teasing you, Mother,” Sarah said. “Just ignore him.”
“It isn’t nice to tease people, Mr. Malloy,” Catherine told him sternly.
“I’m sorry,” Malloy said, feigning meekness. “I won’t tease Mrs. Decker anymore.”
“Mr. Malloy,” Serafina asked from where she was sitting at the desk. “Will you take a message to the Professor? I want to be sure he is there when we come and that everything is ready.”
“I would be happy to,” Malloy said graciously, surprising Sarah. “I should probably tell him about Nicola, too.”
Serafina’s head jerked up, and her eyes blazed. “No, please do not tell him. I will do that when I see him. And also do not tell him we are trying to find the killer. It will be better if he thinks I am just going to start doing the sittings again. I will tell him we must begin again since all the money is gone.”
“What money is that?” Mrs. Decker asked.
“Nicola took all the money that Mrs. Gittings was holding for us when he ran away,” Serafina said before anyone else could speak.
Maeve hastened to confirm her story. “Someone must have robbed him before . . . Well, he didn’t have the money anymore when they found him.”
Sarah exchanged a glance with Malloy, who shrugged. If that was the story Serafina wanted to tell, it was of no concern to him.
“Please, I must write this note for Mr. Malloy to take to the Professor,” Serafina said.
“Let’s go in the kitchen,” Sarah suggested.
Mrs. Decker led the way. Sarah followed, still carrying Catherine, and Malloy came behind. Maeve stayed in the office with Serafina while she composed her notes.
“What do you make of all this?” Mrs. Decker asked in a whisper.
“She just wants to prove Nicola was innocent,” Sarah said, setting Catherine down on one of the chairs. “Would you like another cookie, sweetheart?”
“Yes, please,” she said and accepted one.
“I’m starting to think Serafina knows more than she’s told us,” Malloy said with a frown.
“You mean you think she knows who killed Mrs. Gittings?” Mrs. Decker asked in surprise.
“If she does, why didn’t she say so in the first place?” Sarah asked.
“Maybe she couldn’t prove it, and she didn’t think I’d believe her,” Malloy said.
“So she was hoping Mr. Malloy would figure it out for himself,” Mrs. Decker suggested.
“But now that Nicola is dead, she knows I’m going to stop investigating,” Malloy concluded.
“We could just ask her,” Sarah said.
“She’d lie,” Malloy said. “She wants
to have her séance.”
“And what if she has it, and we still don’t figure out who killed Mrs. Gittings?” Mrs. Decker asked.
“Then there’s nothing else I can do, and I’ll be finished with this whole thing,” Malloy said with more than a trace of happy anticipation.
“You’d just give up?” Mrs. Decker asked in amazement.
“Mother, Malloy can’t badger people like Mr. Sharpe and Mrs. Burke, especially when he doesn’t have any reason to think they’re guilty. He’d lose his job,” Sarah said.
Mrs. Decker sighed. “I just wish there was something else I could do. Serafina is all alone in the world now, except for that Professor fellow, and I don’t trust him one bit.”
Malloy turned to Sarah. “Have you had a chance to ask Maeve what she thinks of Serafina?”
“No,” Sarah said, remembering that Malloy had suggested this the day he’d given her custody of the girl. “She seems awfully anxious to help her, though.”
“Or maybe she just wants to go to a séance,” Malloy countered.
“I don’t like the idea of her playing Mrs. Gittings’s part,” Sarah said with a frown.
“You can’t think someone would try to harm her,” Mrs. Decker said. “No one there even knows her.”
“I know, but still . . . I just feel uneasy about it.”
“Maeve can take care of herself,” Malloy reminded her.
Sarah remembered exactly how Maeve had taken care of herself just a few short weeks ago and shivered involuntarily. “I just wish we could be in the room during the séance, in case something happens.”
“We can be on the other side of the cabinet,” Malloy said reasonably. “We’ll hear everything that happens, and we can be in the room in a minute if we’re needed.”
“But what if the killer decides to . . .” Sarah stopped, trying to think of possible scenarios.
“What if he decides to do what?” Malloy prodded her. “Kill Madame Serafina? I think the killer was trying to help her by killing Mrs. Gittings, so why would he want to kill Serafina now? Nobody even knows Maeve, so she’s safe, and what reason does anybody have to kill any of the others? Also, nobody knows who the killer is, so nobody else is in danger of betraying him.”
Murder on Waverly Place Page 22