Part 14 (2/2)
He stared in the mirror at them. ”Who are you?”
Rose stepped forward. ”I am Lady Rose Summer and this is Mrs. Levine. Are you really Roger Dallow?”
”So what's it to you?”
”I was briefly a friend of Miss Dolly Tremaine. I am trying to find out what happened to her.”
He swung round. ”I remember your name now. It was in the newspapers.”
”Was Miss Tremaine going to join you?”
”Yes. I stood outside the house and she dropped a note out of the window. She said she would join me. She said she couldn't bear it any longer because they were forcing her to marry some old man. She said I was to meet her the following day at the Shaftsbury Monument in Piccadilly at four in the afternoon. The following day, I waited and waited, but she didn't come. Then I heard the newsboys calling out about some murder. I bought a paper. I can't read very well but enough to know she had been murdered.”
”Did she ever tell you she was frightened of anyone?” asked Rose.
”I wasn't allowed to go near her in the village after someone reported we'd been seen together. I got a whipping from my dad. I wouldn't have run away but then I heard Dolly had been taken off to London. I don't earn much here but it would have been enough for us to live simply.” He buried his head in his hands. ”I loved her.”
”The police have been looking for you,” said Rose. ”May I tell them we found you?”
”No!” he cried. ”I'd nothing to do with it, but if the police come round here and take me away for questioning, innocent or not, I won't have a job when I get back.”
”What's the awful smell in here?” asked Daisy, wrinkling her nose.
”I've got to share with the dog act. He's taken them out for a walk.”
”So you have no idea at all who might have killed her?” asked Rose.
”Who would want to kill Dolly except that Lord Berrow? Maybe he got mad when she told him she wouldn't marry him.”
”I do not think she would be allowed to do anything other than accept his proposal,” said Rose.
”Someone tried to kill you, didn't they?” asked Roger.
”Yes, the police now think it was some hired a.s.sa.s.sin. I will not tell the police about you.”
The dressing-room door opened and a pretty chorus girl came in. ”Nearly time for the curtain call, darling.” She perched on Roger's knee and gave him a hearty kiss. Roger threw a sheepish look at Rose.
”Who're they?” asked the chorus girl.
”n.o.body, really,” said Roger.
Rose and Daisy left.
”So much for undying love,” said Rose. ”He seems to have found someone new pretty quickly.”
”It's been months since the murder,” said the ever-pragmatic Daisy. ”Life goes on.”
Rose brooded on Harry on the journey back. She had never thought until that moment that Harry might fall in love and get married. The idea depressed her.
Daisy broke into her thoughts. ”Going to tell the captain about Roger?”
”No.”
”He might have done it.”
”He hasn't enough money to pay an a.s.sa.s.sin. Don't tell Becket anything.”
”Cross my heart and hope to die.”
Harry had been visiting a house a few doors away from the earl's town house to report that he had managed to quash a scandal.
As he left, he suddenly stopped on the front stairs. Two men were looking up at the earl's house. When they saw Harry, they moved away.
Berrow and Banks, thought Harry. Why are they spying on Rose? I don't like this at all.
They were walking away quickly, but he caught up with them. ”Stop!” he shouted. ”What were you doing watching Hadfield's house?”
Cyril stared at him insolently. ”We stopped to have a cigar.”
”You were not smoking.”
”See here,” said Berrow, shoving his fat and florid face at Harry, ”you're a cheeky upstart. You've betrayed your cla.s.s. How dare you question me!”
”I'm warning you,” said Harry, ”if I catch you here again, I'll beat the living daylights out of you, and if either of you had anything to do with the murder of Dolly Tremaine, I'll find out.”
They backed away from him, turned, and walked rapidly out of the square.
”Needs to be taught a lesson,” growled Berrow. ”Have you seen that motor of his? He's making a fortune out of his grubby business. I'd like to punish him. Are you sure Lady Rose really fancies you? I mean, she got engaged to Petrey.”
”And we all know what Petrey is. I tell you, Lady Rose was all over me. Think of her fortune. Think of getting the Ice Queen into bed. But I've got to get rid of Petrey and I've thought of a way.”
Sir Peter Petrey was leaving The Club two days later. London was in the grip of a particularly nasty thick yellow fog. It was one of those lung-searing fogs of winter blanketing London, blotting out landmarks. He knew if he could even get a hansom, it would take him ages to get home.
It was late afternoon and he realized he would need to walk home if he was to manage to change into his evening clothes and escort Rose to a dinner party.
He b.u.mped into someone in the fog. ”I say, I am sorry,” he said.
”It's all right. Beastly weather,” said a young voice. ”Do you know the way to Charles Street?”
”I'm going there myself. Come along.”
They walked on together. As they pa.s.sed a lighted shop front, the fog swirled for a moment and thinned. Peter looked at his companion and caught his breath. He was looking at the face of an angel. Golden hair like guineas glinted under a silk hat, large deep eyes, a perfect skin, and a mouth like Cupid's bow.
”Are you visiting London?” he asked.
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