Death Wears a Mask (27 page)

 

24

THE FOOD AT
French's was excellent, and as we ate, the conversation shifted to less morbid things. I found Lord Dunmore to be intelligent, witty, and very well-informed. Yet, for all that, some part of me was on guard. I didn't know if it was the murder, Milo's warning, or some instinct of my own. I only knew that I seemed to sense something superficial about his friendliness, and for some reason I did not feel completely at ease.

“It's too early for me to take you home,” he said, when we had finished and he called for Antoine to settle our bill.

“It's not so very early,” I pointed out. Nonetheless, we had not yet discussed the particulars of how we would use the Dunmore Diamond to lure the thief, and I supposed a late night would be the cost of his agreeing to such schemes.

“Come, Mrs. Ames. The evening is young. There is a great deal of fun left to be had.” The way in which he said this made me slightly wary, but an idea had come to me suddenly. Perhaps a way to accomplish two things at once.

“There is a nightclub I've heard a bit about,” I told him. “It's called the Sparrow.”

It seemed that surprise flickered across his face. “The Sparrow?” he repeated. “I shouldn't have pictured you in a place like that, Mrs. Ames.”

The words sounded ominous, and I wondered if perhaps the Sparrow was not the sort of establishment I had imagined. “Is it a sordid place?” I asked. “I don't know much about it. I only heard that it was popular with some of my friends.”

“Not sordid,” he said. “Only perhaps a bit more … lively than the places you are accustomed to. I've not been there often, but I understand many of our mutual acquaintances have been known to frequent it, including the Echols girls, Mr. Harker, and even Mr. Foster.”

“Well, perhaps we'll see them there tonight,” I said with a smile. “I'd very much like to see it. I'm not afraid of a little excitement.”

This seemed to amuse him. “No? Well, neither am I. In fact, I think that sounds like a rather enjoyable way to spend an evening. It's not far from here, in fact. Shall we go?”

*   *   *

WE WALKED INTO
the Sparrow not half an hour later, and I could see at once that Lord Dunmore's assessment had been correct. The nightclub was not the sort of place I was accustomed to frequenting. Once inside, we were engulfed in the thick, smoky atmosphere. The lights were dim, and the music being played by a large band at the front of the room was cacophonous. A great many couples moved about the dance floor, and most of the dances were, to say the least, unfamiliar to me.

The nightclubs Milo and I frequented tended to be much more reserved. And, though Milo was, to put it politely, much more adventurous than I, I suspected this place would have been beneath his notice as well. It lacked the elegant recklessness of some of the more popular nightspots and seemed somehow shabby instead.

I was most definitely out of my milieu.

Lord Dunmore, it seemed, felt no such qualms. In fact, he seemed very much at home. He took my arm, and we threaded through the crowded tables, raucous laughter breaking out around us, almost indistinguishable in the din. The air smelled very strongly of alcohol and stale perfume. I wished now that I hadn't been so hasty in suggesting that we come here.

“I've seen someone I must say hello to,” he told me. “I'll find you in a moment.” Lord Dunmore's grip on my arm loosened, and then he had disappeared into the crowd.

I took a moment to get my bearings. Perhaps I was too old for such frivolity, but I noticed that several of the women around me looked a good deal older than me, though they were certainly making valiant attempts to hide it.

I tried to see where Lord Dunmore had gone, but the crowds and inadequate lighting, not to mention the haze of cigarette smoke, made it difficult to see much of anything. I began making my way through the crowds in hopes of finding some inconspicuous spot where I could await his return. I didn't expect that there would be much to be learned here, after all, and I was rather anxious that he should take me home.

I wondered what Milo would think of all of this when I told him. Then I remembered that he was cross with me and would likely be very disinterested in anything that I should have to say about this evening.

I refused an offer to dance and two much less polite offers by the time I neared the perimeter of the room.

Then I turned around and, as luck would have it, bumped directly into one of the suspects I had been hoping to encounter.

“Hello, Miss Echols,” I said, as brightly as I could manage. It was Felicity, the younger sister. She was wearing a wrinkled gown of gold lamé, and her face, already pale, seemed to grow paler as she realized who I was.

“Oh…” She looked at me with her wide, vague eyes. “Mrs. Ames, isn't it?”

The glass in her hand was nearly empty, and it occurred to me to wonder how much she had had to drink, for she seemed to sway slightly on her feet. I fought the urge to reach out and steady her.

“How have you been?” I asked, keeping up the pretense of polite conversation, which was difficult considering I fairly had to shout to be heard.

“Dreadful.” She drained the remainder of the liquid from her glass, and then looked at me again. “That is to say … I've been all right. How are you, Mrs. Ames?”

“The murder upset me quite a lot,” I told her.

It appeared my comment had struck home, for her eyes filled at once with tears. I should have known better than to speak so bluntly, but I had been hoping to trigger some sort of response. This was not what I had hoped for.

“Oh, it's all so very dreadful,” she said, covering her face with her free hand, her shoulders shaking.

“I'm sorry, dear,” I said. I took a handkerchief from my handbag and handed it to her, while taking one arm and ushering her to an unoccupied seat in the corner. She sat heavily in a chair, and I took her glass and then sat at the table beside her.

“I didn't mean to upset you,” I told her sincerely. I hadn't foreseen this reaction, and I felt bad now for having spoken so callously of the death of the man to whom she had been rumored to be attached. I glanced around for some sign of Marjorie. She would know better than I how to comfort her sister.

“It's just that I feel so sorry about poor James.” Felicity sobbed. “He was so very sweet, and it was so cruel what happened to him.”

“Yes, we're all very sad about that,” I agreed.

“He was always a gentleman,” she said. “No matter what anyone says about him, he was always a gentleman.”

To my knowledge, no one had ever accused him of being otherwise.

“Were you … on good terms with him?” I asked.

“Did I love him, do you mean?” she asked with disarming frankness. “No, I didn't. Not really, anyway. Not in the romantic sense … but he was very kind to Marjorie and me.”

“It must be hard to lose such a good friend,” I said.

She reached for her glass, and I handed it to her, despite the fact that it was empty. She lifted it to her lips and then set it down sadly. “It's all gone,” she told me.

“Yes, dear. Perhaps some water…”

She shook her head, her blond curls bouncing. “I never thought that it would come to that, that he would be killed.”

“I'm sure no one did.”

“He didn't mean it,” she said. “I'm sure he didn't.”

“Who didn't mean what?” I asked.

It seemed for just a moment that her gaze cleared ever so slightly and she seemed aware of what she had just said.

“What are you doing here?” she asked suddenly. “This isn't your type of place, Mrs. Ames.”

“Lord Dunmore told me that several of our mutual acquaintances enjoyed coming here, including Mr. Harker and Mr. Foster. We decided to drop by and see if there was anyone here we knew.”

She looked at me, her eyes wide. “Is he here?”

“Yes, we've just come from having dinner.”

Her eyes darted behind me, searching the crowd. “You shouldn't … He isn't … Don't trust him, Mrs. Ames. He's dangerous.”

I was surprised by the alarm in her expression. “I'll certainly keep that in mind.”

“I'd better go before he comes,” she said, and there was something very much like fear in her voice.

“I'm sure there's no need to be alarmed,” I said soothingly. She had obviously had too much to drink if the presence of Lord Dunmore put her in such a state.

I turned to see if I could spot him anywhere in the room. When I turned back, I was startled to see Felicity Echols was gone. She had disappeared into the crowd.

A moment later, Lord Dunmore found me. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Not especially,” I admitted. I was suddenly tired, and I didn't want to be in this place any longer.

“It is a bit … exuberant, I suppose.” As if to confirm this, a row of scantily clad chorus girls made their way out onto the floor, warbling a song at the top of their lungs.

I turned to look at him. “Would you take me home now?”

“Are you certain you don't want a drink?” he asked.

“Thank you, no.”

“We haven't even had a chance to dance yet.”

“I wouldn't think you'd enjoy dancing in a place like this,” I said frankly. I was hard-pressed to picture the elegant Viscount Dunmore moving about the dance floor to the somewhat-frantic jazz tune the band had begun to play.

His eyes caught mine and held, a small smile forming on his lips. “Perhaps not, but I would enjoy having you in my arms.”

“I'm afraid my ankle is not quite healed, in any event,” I replied, though, in truth, it had nearly ceased to trouble me at all.

“Of course. Well, if you're ready, I'm quite willing.”

He put his hand on my elbow, and we walked toward the door. I couldn't seem to get my mind off what Felicity Echols had said. How strange it was that Lord Dunmore should have implicated the Echols sisters and Felicity Echols should have warned me against him.

There couldn't be anything serious in it. Dangerous could have more than one definition. I couldn't believe that Lord Dunmore was involved in James Harker's death. Then again, I was well aware of the loosening effect alcohol had on the tongue. Perhaps she had been willing to tell me something that she might not have under other circumstances.

The thought was certainly not a pleasant one as I once again slid into the cool backseat of Lord Dunmore's automobile.

*   *   *

“ARE YOU SURE
you want to go home?” Lord Dunmore asked as the car pulled onto the busy streets. Although the hour was growing late, the London nightlife was just beginning to come alive. I couldn't help but wonder where Milo might be. This time of night was when he was most in his element, and that was not an especially comforting thought.

“There are any number of other nightclubs we could visit, you know. Or we could go to a jazz club, if you like music.”

He was sitting very close on the seat, so close that I could feel the warmth coming off him. I was not, as a general rule, uneasy when I found myself alone with a gentleman, but there was something about his nearness that was making me slightly uncomfortable. It was as though my body was picking up some subtle signal that my mind had not yet interpreted. I wondered how much of it had to do with what Felicity Echols had told me.

“Yes, I'm afraid I'm rather tired.”

“Might I ask you an impertinent question, Amory?” he said suddenly.

I was a bit afraid of what it might be, but I nodded. “If you like.”

“Where exactly do things stand with you and your husband?”

I hesitated. I wasn't certain where this conversation was leading, but I didn't wish to appear rude by refusing to answer him.

“Things are a bit complicated at the moment,” I said at last.

“Perhaps you're not sure what you want. Perhaps I can help you figure it out.” His fingers were caressing my arm in a slow, hypnotic movement. I felt a shift in the atmosphere.

“I … don't think…” I was trying to determine how best to play this, but he moved rather quickly, and it was difficult to find the countermoves.

“Why don't you come back to my house for a drink,” he said in a low voice.

“Thank you, but no.”

“I heard that you were out to dinner with your husband last night,” he said, his fingers still on my arm. “Trying to keep up pretenses?”

“Milo and I are not on unfriendly terms.” I felt somehow that I didn't want to share any more than I had to. There was something slightly intrusive in his questions and his behavior.

“I've always taken Ames for an intelligent man. If so, I assume he's trying to make up for his … indiscretions.”

“There are just a few matters that need to be settled between us,” I said carefully.

Lord Dunmore smiled. “In the meantime, perhaps you'd like to take advantage of your freedom.”

He was leaning closer, and it seemed that in a moment he would try to kiss me.

He was handsome, attentive, and very sure of himself, but I wasn't even slightly tempted. Despite what Milo may or may not have done, I had absolutely no desire to engage in an affair of my own … with Lord Dunmore or anyone else.

“You promised to discuss the use of the Dunmore Diamond with me, my lord,” I said, hoping my very obvious change of subject would halt his advances.

A knowing smile flickered across his face, and, by some subtle shift of posture, he contrived to ease the intensity that had been so apparent only a moment before. “I think you should wear it to the ball,” he said.

This I hadn't expected. “Oh, I don't know if that is a good idea.”

“It would look lovely on you, and you can arrange to set it somewhere as a trap at some point in the evening.”