Death Wears a Mask (32 page)

“No, not at all,” I said. The unpleasantness was still to come.

“I was a little uneasy about coming here tonight,” Mamie admitted with a rueful smile.

“There's nothing to worry about, darling,” her husband said, but I noticed that his eyes moved around the room in a restless, watchful way. I wondered what he was looking for.

“I think none of us are very easy,” I said.

“But we've all come, haven't we?” Mamie replied. “The police wanted us here for some reason, and I think that is what frightens me a bit. That Inspector Jones asked in the politest way if we could attend, and we really didn't want to say no. Of course, judging from the crowds, it seems half of London is interested in seeing if anything is going to happen this evening.”

“Yes,” I answered. “It will certainly be interesting.” I wanted to say more, but I held my tongue, despite my instinct that they could be trusted. They had both lied to me about the missing earring, but I still felt somehow that they were not involved in the theft or murder. Mamie seemed much too kind to be guilty, and, while I thought Mr. Douglas-Hughes the type of gentleman who would not hesitate to kill in the service of his country, I did not think that he would have carried out a killing in such a public place and in so untidy a manner.

Nevertheless, despite my belief in their innocence, I could afford to trust no one at this point. We were too close. I could feel it.

As luck would have it, the Echols sisters approached us just then. I had crossed paths with them earlier in the ballroom. Marjorie had been cool and Felicity uneasy, and I knew it was not my company they were seeking now. Mamie had obviously won them over as well.

“You both look lovely,” Mamie told them after exchanging pleasantries. I had to admit that it was true. Marjorie looked stunning in a gown of bright red, and Felicity looked ethereal in violet. I thought again how very different the two of them were. It was not especially surprising that Mr. Harker should have been torn in his affections, if that was indeed the case. Felicity's gentleness would have been well matched with his quiet nature, but Marjorie's vibrant boldness would have been appealing to a shy, unconfident gentleman.

“You've taken off the diamond, I see,” Marjorie said suddenly, acknowledging me for the first time since she had joined us. Really, it couldn't have been more perfect an opening.

“Oh, yes,” I said. “It seemed the clasp was loose. I left it in the card room until Lord Dunmore can put it back in his safe.”

“Diamond?” Mamie asked.

“Yes, Lord Dunmore lent me the Dunmore Diamond for the evening. It's only too bad the clasp was broken. I didn't dare risk losing so valuable a piece.”

The more I said this, the more often I felt like this was all much too obvious. Would the thief really think that I would be so careless as to leave it unattended in the card room? Were the situations reversed, I would find the entire thing extremely suspect. I supposed only time would tell, however. I just needed to be sure that all the suspects were properly informed.

“If you'll all excuse me, I must see if I can find my husband.” It was a flimsy excuse, considering I was fairly certain Milo was not even here, but it would work as well as any.

I made my way back into the ballroom. The din had grown louder, and people were talking and laughing with what seemed to be an almost frantic merriment. There was a sense of expectation in the air, as though they were anticipating further calamity. I only hoped this evening's events would not end up obliging them to too great a degree.

*   *   *

I HAD ONLY
just entered the room and begun sipping a glass of punch given to me by a passing waiter when Mr. Foster approached.

“Mrs. Ames, I've been waiting all evening for the chance to dance with you,” he said with a charming smile. “Would you do me the honor?”

“Certainly,” I told him, setting aside my glass. In addition to the possibility of conversing with a suspect, my nervous energy was building, and I thought the exercise would do me good.

He was an excellent dancer, and there was something very appealing about him, a boyish charm that combined with his athletic physique. I saw many of the women looking his way, and I knew it wasn't just his storied sporting career that interested them.

“You're looking very lovely this evening,” he told me. “That color suits you.”

“Thank you.” I supposed I might as well set up the trap while an opportunity presented itself. “My neck is feeling a bit bare.”

“Yes, I noticed you had taken the necklace off.”

He was a rather observant gentleman. “The clasp was loose, and I was forced to leave it in the card room until Lord Dunmore has time to put it in the safe.”

“Indeed? Well, I think your neck couldn't possibly have looked any lovelier with the necklace than it does now.”

I laughed. “It's a stunning piece of jewelry.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

He seemed disinclined to discuss jewelry, and we talked of other things. As we moved about the dance floor, something caught my eye. Lord Dunmore and Vivian Garmond stood at the edge of room, talking to one another. It was the first time I had seen them together, but there was no romance in what was happening now. I could tell that at once from their body language and the expression on Mrs. Garmond's face as she looked up at him. I couldn't help but feel I had not helped matters between them by wearing the Dunmore Diamond tonight. Perhaps I would have the opportunity later to explain the situation to Mrs. Garmond.

The dance ended, and Mr. Foster escorted me from the dance floor, his hand resting lightly on my waist.

“Can I get you another drink?” he asked.

“Not just now, thank you.”

“Here you are, Amory.” I hadn't seen Lord Dunmore approaching until he appeared at my side. I glanced to where he had been standing with Mrs. Garmond, but she was gone. “I've been looking for you. You don't mind if I steal her away, do you, Foster?”

Mr. Foster stepped back, a smile flashing across his face. “Not at all. I'll take another turn with her later.”

It seemed that Lord Dunmore looked a bit annoyed, but the expression was gone so quickly that I couldn't be sure. I wondered if he was still preoccupied by his encounter with Mrs. Garmond.

Mr. Foster walked away, and Lord Dunmore turned to me. I thought he might ask me to dance, but it seemed that was not his intention. “I want to talk to you for a moment.”

I glanced around. It was so loud in the ballroom that I was certain that no one would overhear us. “What is it?”

“It's too hot in here,” he said. “Let's go somewhere where we can get a bit of air.”

“Outside?” I suggested, indicating the doors that led from the ballroom out onto the terrace.

“No. It's too windy. It would muss your hair, and we wouldn't want that, would we?”

“No, I suppose not,” I replied.

He smiled and took my hand in his. “I know. Come with me.”

I let him lead me out into the foyer and across to the small sitting room on the other side, where I had sat the day I had come to visit him. We entered, and he closed the door behind us, the heavy oak muting some of the noise of the ball. The room was cooler than the ballroom had been, but there was something slightly intimate about the setting, and I wondered what it was that he wanted to talk to me about.

He didn't release my hand as he turned to face me. “There? That's better, isn't it?”

“I suppose it is,” I answered. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about, Alexander? Is it the diamond? I've left it in the card room as we discussed.”

“No, it isn't that. Wanting to be alone with you isn't reason enough for me to spirit you away?”

I felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere, as though Lord Dunmore had flipped some sort of switch. Really, it was almost impressive.

“It is cooler in here,” I conceded, unsure of where this might be leading. The various warnings I had heard about Lord Dunmore nagged at the back of my mind.

“I'm still feeling a bit warm.” His voice had taken on a silky quality that put me on guard.

“I believe dancing has that effect,” I replied as blandly as possible. So did arguing with one's mistress in a crowded ballroom.

“It isn't only dancing,” he answered. “I've found many much more effective means of warming the blood.” There was something practiced yet oddly natural in his approach, like an actor who had played a role so long that he forgot he was someone other than the character he embodied.

“I'm sure you have.”

His eyes locked on mine. “If you'd let me, Amory, I can have a fire lit in no time.”

It was only with great effort that I kept my brows from flying upward in surprise. He really was shameless. What I found remarkable, however, was that the blatant suggestion that would have been completely offensive from another man somehow managed to be almost flattering coming from Lord Dunmore. Almost.

He stepped closer, and I put up a hand to halt his progress. “I shouldn't think that necessary, Lord Dunmore,” I said firmly.

“A moment ago I was Alexander.”

“It seems that using your Christian name has given you unwarranted encouragement. That was my mistake.”

He smiled suddenly, and some little change in his posture completely dispersed the intimacy of the moment. “Am I annoying you, Mrs. Ames?”

“I think you're very charming,” I answered carefully, “but you should know that I am quite immune to it.”

“In other words, I am wasting my time.”

“You are wasting your time, my lord.”

His eyes searched my face for a moment, and, apparently seeing that I meant it, he sighed and gave an elegant shrug. “Fair enough. You can't blame a man for trying.”

You could, in fact. But I decided that was an opinion best kept to myself.

“I hope we shall be friends,” I told him. “But only friends.”

“If you insist,” he said with faux ill humor.

“I do. We don't need people talking. In fact,” I said, “it would probably be better if we aren't seen coming out of this room together. Why don't you go back to your guests, and I'll follow in a moment.”

He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it before turning to go. At the door, he stopped. “We could have had a lot of fun together, you and I,” he said wistfully.

“‘Fun' is quite overrated,” I told him. “Love and devotion have a much more lasting appeal.”

He looked at me, and I knew he understood my meaning. His quarrel with Mrs. Garmond had no doubt spurred on his unseemly advances, but I hoped he could see the error in such logic.

“You're quite a woman, Amory,” he said. Then he left the room and closed the door behind him.

I didn't quite know how to feel about what had just happened. On the one hand, it had been inappropriate in the extreme. On the other, perhaps Lord Dunmore had been too much used to getting his way. I hoped this was a lesson he could profit by. And that perhaps he could find a way to work things out with Mrs. Garmond.

I dropped into a chair and rubbed a hand across my forehead. This night was already turning out to be much too eventful, and we had yet to encounter the killer.

My eyes fell on the telephone, and I remembered that I needed to ring Winnelda and see if Mr. Gibbs had had any luck in identifying the thief. I went to the telephone and gave the operator the number to the flat. She connected me, and a moment later Winnelda picked up. “Ames residence,” she said crisply.

“Winnelda, it's Mrs. Ames.”

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Ames!” she said cheerfully. “How are you?”

“I'm fine, thank you. I asked Mr. Gibbs—the gentleman who called for Mr. Ames earlier this evening—to telephone me and leave a message with you. Has he phoned yet?”

“Oh, yes, madam! He phoned about twenty minutes ago.”

I felt a rush of excitement. “What did he say?”

“He said to tell you … wait just a moment…” I could hear the crinkling of a piece of paper, and then Winnelda read carefully. “The gent was of medium height with dark hair.”

I waited, but she did not continue. “That's all?” I asked at last, disappointed.

“That's all he said, madam.”

“Thank you, Winnelda.”

“Is the ball going well? Did the ladies like your dress? And the necklace?”

“Yes, everything's going quite well. I'll be sure to tell you all about it tomorrow.”

“I shall look forward to it, madam!”

I rang off, lost in thought. Medium height with dark hair. I realized suddenly that that description could conceivably be applied to any of the male suspects. And if it was one of the women, they might have had a gentleman acquaintance sell the pieces for them. Really, this clue had turned out to be of very little help.

I heard the door open behind me, and I wondered if Lord Dunmore had come back.

I turned. “Oh, hello, Mr. Foster.”

He closed the door behind him and glanced around the room before his eyes came back to me. “I see Dunmore's abandoned you, and I hate to see so lovely a lady all alone.”

I didn't know why, but I suddenly felt a bit uneasy. Mr. Foster had never been anything but polite, but there was some slight change in him now that I couldn't quite name. He seemed different somehow. But perhaps it was only that my nerves were all on edge this evening.

“I was just getting ready to rejoin the festivities,” I told him.

“Don't hurry out on my account,” he said. My eyes flickered past him to the door. He was standing before it, and I would have to go around him to leave.

“Oh, it's not that,” I said lightly. “I think perhaps I'd better go and see if my husband has arrived. If you'll excuse me.” I walked purposefully toward the door.

“Wait a moment.” He held out a hand, and I stopped myself just before I walked into it.