“Probably.”
“When Running Bear-” She smiled suddenly, amused at herself. “When Madame Sosostris was talking about the Earl, she said that he’d imposed his sick desires upon an innocent young woman. Presumably she meant the kitchen maid, the woman that Briggs mentioned to you in the library.”
“Darleen.”
“Yes.” She frowned. “Briggs is a bit of a cad. Telling tales on his employer. And on a former sweetheart.”
“Not a very nice guy,” I agreed.
“He must’ve given the same information to Madame Sosostris. And told her of the Earl’s death.”
“If it was Briggs, he didn’t give it to her.”
She smiled. “He sold it, you mean. I’m sure you’re right.” Her face went serious again. “But what did she mean, do you think- Madame Sosostris-when she said that the Earl hadn't ended his life? She said that his life had been taken.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “That was when Lord Purleigh showed up.”
“Yes.” She sighed, softly shook her head. Lamplight shimmered along the black sheen of her hair. “Poor Robert. For years he’s been telling people he wanted his father dead. Now that it’s actually happened, I think he’s rather at a loss. I feel terribly for him. He’s such a sweet man.”
“What does Lady Purleigh think?”
“Regarding the Earl’s death?”
“Yeah. Was she surprised?”
“Surprised? Yes, of course. Wouldn’t anyone be?”
“Sometimes people see it coming.”
“But Alice didn’t. She was shocked. She told me she couldn’t imagine why he’d do such a thing.”
Just then, I think, she realized she was talking about friends of hers, and to a stranger. Smiling, she changed the subject. “But the two of them are quite good, aren’t they? Madame Sosostris and her husband. It was quite an accomplishment, I thought, producing all those apparitions without giving themselves away. And with people sitting on either side of them, holding their hands.”
“Practice,” I said.
She cocked her head. “But in a way, you know, I was… rather disappointed.” She moved her shoulders in a small, dismissive shrug. “I’d been hoping for something more, I suppose.”
“Real ghosts?”
“Something with a less obvious explanation. A more persuasive apparition, perhaps. Something surprising.”
“You seemed a bit surprised there, for a second or two.”
Her face was calm but those black, almond-shaped eyes were watchful. “Oh?”
“When your daughter was mentioned.”
“Yes,” she said.
“It caught you off guard,” I said.
“Yes.” She looked down, lightly ran the tip of her finger along the rim of the snifter. “Not everyone knows about my daughter.” She looked up at me. “But Alice does, which no doubt means that her servants know as well. Including Briggs, I imagine.”
I nodded.
“But why should they bother learning about my daughter?” she asked me. “Why choose me?”
“You have money.”
She blinked her long black lashes. Money was something that wasn’t discussed in polite conversation. Then she understood what I meant and her eyebrows lowered. “You’re saying that they found out about Esme, and they deliberately used the information to impress me, to bring me into… To…” She frowned impatiently. “What is the word I’m looking for?”
“Enlist?”
“To enlist me as one of their followers?”
“Probably.”
She stared at me for a moment, her wide red mouth open, her black eyes narrowed. Finally she said, “But that’s filthy.” She looked off, her mouth grim now. “That’s vile. ”
“Yeah.”
She drank some more brandy.
“How old was your daughter?” I asked her.
Still looking off, she said, “Five.”
“When did she die?”
“Six years ago.” She turned to me. “I’d prefer not to talk about her, if you don’t mind.”
“Fine.”
“Tell me something,” she said. I think she heard her own voice, heard how curt it sounded. She added, “Would you?”
“Sure.”
“Why were you asking Briggs all those questions?”
“That’s what I do for a living.”
“Yes, but why those questions, and why Briggs? The Earl committed suicide. It’s a tragedy, of course, a terrible tragedy, but it has nothing to do with this magician you're after, this Chin Soo.”
“Probably not. I’m just basically nosy.”
“Tell me about this Chin Soo.”
I told her. It took a while but she listened well. When she asked a question, which wasn’t often, it was a good question. From time to time her glance dipped down toward my mouth and then slipped back up. It made me very conscious of my mouth. And very conscious of hers-I realized that my own glance was doing pretty much the same thing, sliding down along her cheekbones to flick against her wide red lips, then darting back up to her almondshaped eyes.
When I was finished, she said, “You no longer believe that it was Chin Soo who fired that rifle this afternoon.” She looked at the clock on the end table, looked back at me, smiled. “Yesterday afternoon.”
“No,” I said.
“You believe that it was one of us. One of the guests.”
I nodded. “Yeah. There were four guests who weren’t on the lawn. Four guests who could’ve fired the rifle. Lady Purleigh, Cecily Fitzwilliam, Dr. Auerbach, and Sir David. Can you think of any reason why one of them would want to shoot at anybody?
Shoot at you, for example?”
“ Me?” She laughed. “You can’t really think that someone was shooting at me?”
“Someone was getting shot at. If it wasn’t Harry, it had to be one of you.”
“But it couldn’t possibly have been me. It couldn't have been any of us, but who on earth would shoot at me?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t really see Lady Purleigh or Cecily using a rifle. Dr. Auerbach has an alibi, or says he has. Besides, you never met him before this weekend. Or did you?”
“No. He’s a friend of a friend of Alice’s. He learned about the seance and asked Alice if he could attend.”
“That leaves Sir David.”
She laughed again. “David? Why would David want to shoot me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Really, Mr. Beaumont, the idea is ridiculous. I’ve known David for years. He can be unpleasant, he often is unpleasant, as you saw for yourself, but he’d never shoot anyone. And he certainly wouldn’t shoot me.”
She leaned slightly toward me and gave me a martini smile dry, with a twist of lemon in it. The scent of her perfume grew stronger. She said, “I think you’ve been letting your imagination get the better of you.”
“Maybe. That happens.”
She leaned away but her perfume hung there in the air between us like an invitation, or a promise. She said, “And why are you so concerned about the gunshot in any case? If, as you say, it wasn’t fired by Chin Soo?”
