Feather and trying to make some sense out of what the spirits were saying.”
“Did you hear her say anything or make any kind of sound?”
“I’ve been asking myself that question. If someone stabbed her, surely she cried out, but I have no recollection of it. I didn’t notice anything at all until she let go of my wrist.”
“How soon was this before Mrs. Burke screamed?”
“A few seconds, no more. I probably didn’t really notice until Mrs. Burke screamed, I was so intent on… on Yellow Feather.”
Frank managed not to smirk. He wouldn’t get very much further with Sharpe if he let his true feelings about the seance show. “What did you do when she screamed?”
“I… Nothing at first. I didn’t know what had happened, but then Mrs. Burke started yelling that Mrs. Gittings had fainted. Someone opened the door and started calling for the Professor to bring smelling salts. Madame was the one calling, so she must have opened the door. I could see because of the light from the hallway that Mrs. Gittings was on the floor.”
“At what point did you let go of Mrs. Decker’s wrist?” Frank asked, forgetting to use the wrong name.
Sharpe didn’t notice. “I’m not sure.”
“Were you still sitting down when the door opened?”
“Oh, yes. No sense getting up and stumbling around in the dark, is there?”
Frank supposed there wasn’t. “Had you let go of Mrs. Decker’s wrist by then?”
He shook his head. “Probably, but I can’t be sure. What does it matter? You don’t think she stabbed Mrs. Gittings, do you?”
Frank didn’t bother to answer him. “When you saw Mrs. Gittings on the floor, what did you do?”
“I… I knelt down beside her.”
“Why?”
He seemed surprised at the question. “To see if I could help. I didn’t touch her. One doesn’t lay hands on a woman in a situation like that, of course, especially a woman who’s practically a stranger.”
“You didn’t know her well?”
“No. I met her at my first seance.”
“Was she always here when you attended a seance?”
“Yes, she was.”
“Do you know who she was trying to contact in the spirit world?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” he snapped.
Frank supposed Mr. Sharpe didn’t share Mrs. Decker’s view that a spirit had murdered Mrs. Gittings. “I’m just trying to find out more about her,” Frank explained mildly, although he was actually trying to find out how well Sharpe knew the victim. “When did you realize she’d been stabbed?”
“I… Not until someone, Cunningham, I think, said something. ‘Look at her back,’ or something like that. That’s when I saw the handle of the knife and the… the blood.”
“Did you try to help her when you saw she’d been stabbed?”
“What could I do? I’m not a doctor,” he protested. “Besides, she… she wasn’t moving, and her eyes were open, staring.” He looked away, and Frank noticed his finely manicured hands were knotted into fists. Not a man accustomed to sudden death.
“Whose idea was it to leave the room?”
“Mine, I’m sure,” he said, although Frank thought he might be making the claim to make himself look better. “Mrs. Burke was already hysterical. We had to get the ladies out of there.”
“Did the Professor bring the smelling salts?”
“What?”
“You said Madame called for him to bring the salts. Did he bring them?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Did you see him at all?”
“I… Yes, he was in the doorway when we started out of the room. Someone told him Mrs. Gittings had been stabbed.”
“What was his reaction?”
“His reaction? What do you mean?”
“Was he surprised, shocked, angry, frightened?”
“How should I know? I was concerned about getting the ladies out of there.”
“And whose idea was it to get the police?”
“Not mine,” Sharpe told him, not bothering to hide his contempt. “Before I had a chance to settle the ladies, an officer was here taking everyone’s name and telling us not to leave.”
“So you didn’t see anyone enter or leave the room once the six of you were inside for the seance?”
“Of course not. The room only has one entrance, and if anyone opened the door, we would have noticed immediately.”
“Even with all the noise and confusion?”
“We would have noticed if the light came in,” he insisted. “We couldn’t see a thing until after Mrs. Burke screamed and Madame opened the door. Now if you’re finished with me, I have an appointment.”
“Yes, that’s all for now,” Frank said, but Sharpe was already on his feet and heading for the door.
After Sharpe left, Frank waited a few moments, going over in his mind what he’d learned so far. Odd how no one seemed to know anything about the victim. One of the five would have had to kill her, and so far three of them professed to know nothing about her. He was starting to think that when he found the one person who’d known her, he’d have the killer. Could it really be so simple?
The sound of a disturbance distracted him, and he hurried out into the hallway to see what was going on. The noise was coming from the back of the house, and when he opened the door that led into the kitchen, he saw Officer Donatelli scuffling with a slender young man.
“What’s going on?” Frank demanded.
The young man looked up, startled, and the distraction was enough to give Donatelli the advantage. In an instant he had the fellow sprawled facedown on the floor with his knee in the middle of his back. Donatelli looked up, grinning with satisfaction. “I just got here and found this fellow trying to sneak out the back.”
5
“LET GO OF ME! I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” THE FELLOW WAS complaining.
Frank reached down, grabbed him by the back of his shirt, and hauled him to his feet when Donatelli obligingly removed his knee. “Who do we have here?”
The young man was plainly Italian and just as plainly terrified to find himself in the hands of the police. “I was making a delivery! I have to be on my way or I’ll lose my job,” he bluffed.
Frank looked him over. He was dressed all in black close-fitting clothes and soft slippers that were obviously not meant for the street. “What were you delivering?”
“I… I…” He looked around wildly, as if trying to find the answer hanging on one of the kitchen walls. “Eggs,” he finally decided.
Frank glanced around the pristine kitchen. “I don’t see any eggs.”
“And what were you carrying them in,
“I… I left my basket outside. I’ll go get it!”
He lunged toward the back door, but Frank still held him by the shirt, and he pulled him back with a jerk. “Not so fast. Now tell me again what you’re doing here, and this time, it better be the truth.”
The young fellow glanced up at Donatelli, who nodded grimly.
“I… I work here,” he admitted reluctantly.
“What do you do?” Frank asked skeptically. He didn’t know any Italian house servants.
“I… I fix things.”
