“And now you live off the money that I earn,” she reminded him right back.
He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he glanced at Frank and changed his mind. He straightened himself again. “Well, perhaps it’s good he’s here after all. He can protect us in case Nicola comes back.”
“Nicola is dead,” Serafina said savagely before Frank could reply.
“Dead?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “How could he be dead?”
“Because someone killed him,” she told him.
The Professor looked at Frank. “Is this true?”
“Yes, someone beat him to death. We found his body not far from here.”
The Professor’s face flooded with color. “The little fool, he probably started flashing the money around and somebody killed him for it. Lucille tried to tell you he was no good, but you wouldn’t listen.”
An excellent theory, Frank thought, but the Professor didn’t know Nicola had no money to flash around. “Who’s Lucille?”
“Mrs. Gittings,” the Professor snapped. “So now he’s gone and the money with him.”
“Don’t worry, you still have me to make money for you,” Serafina told him acidly.
“Mrs. Decker didn’t give me anything when she came in just now,” he informed her just as acidly.
“I told them I would not charge them today.”
“After what happened, they would not come back unless I begged them. You should be glad they are here at all.”
“And the others? Are they coming, too?”
“Yes, they are. All of them will be here, just like before.”
“Just like before except for that girl. Why is she here?”
“I told you, she is Mrs. Decker’s niece.”
“No, she isn’t. She’s somebody’s maid, and she’s up to something. I don’t like it.”
“You do not have to like it. She is here because I want her here. Now go answer the door. Someone else has come.”
They could hear the bell, and the Professor gave her another glare before going to answer it.
When he’d closed the door behind him, Frank said, “How did he know about Maeve?”
“What does it matter?” She dismissed the Professor with a wave of her hand. “Do you know what you must do?”
“Do you want me to stay until everybody gets here?”
“Yes, and then I will tell you, in front of everyone, that you are to leave, so they all know you are gone. I do not want the killer to think you are here to find him.”
“Or her,” Frank added.
But she was already on her way out of the room. “I must unlock the back door for you,” she said as she disappeared.
Frank sighed. He had a bad feeling about all of this. Why had he let Sarah talk him into it in the first place? If Nicola was dead, nobody cared who had killed Mrs. Gittings. Nobody but Serafina and Sarah. He sighed again and stepped out into the hall. He could hear voices in the parlor, and he crossed the hall to see who had arrived.
John Sharpe was there, and Mrs. Decker was introducing him to Maeve. From the look on his face, he thought she was somebody’s maid, too, but Mrs. Decker didn’t care a fig what he thought and neither did Maeve. Frank could hear clocks around the city striking the hour. Cunningham would be late, of course, if he showed up at all.
The Professor was opening the door to someone, and Mrs. Burke came in. She looked pale and drawn and slightly terrified, especially when she saw Frank. He nodded politely.
“What is he doing here?” she fairly squeaked to the Professor.
“Madame asked him to come,” he said with obvious disapproval.
“Mrs. Decker is in the parlor,” Frank said, hoping to distract her. He succeeded.
She scurried away, not even waiting for the Professor to escort her, and Frank could hear Mrs. Decker’s welcome.
“Where is Madame Serafina?” the Professor asked.
“I don’t know. She had some things to do.”
“The boy, is he really dead?” the Professor asked.
“She identified his body.”
The Professor looked as if he wanted to swear but remembered just in time where he was. “If he’s dead, then why are you here?”
“Madame asked me to come,” he said, repeating the Professor’s own words without a trace of irony.
They could hear Mrs. Burke’s voice, shrill and too loud from nervous tension, “I didn’t know Mr. Decker had a niece.”
The Professor frowned. “That girl…” he said, then shook his head.
The doorbell rang again. The Professor muttered something under his breath and went to answer it.
Frank waited as he admitted Cunningham. The young man was only a few minutes late, which meant he must be eager to see Serafina again. He’d have realized she no longer had to answer to Mrs. Gittings, and he probably wanted to make his case to her again about why she should become his mistress.
The Professor greeted him, but Cunningham wasn’t paying attention. “Where’s Madame Serafina?” he asked, looking around, and then he saw Frank. “What are you doing here?”
“Madame asked him to come,” the Professor said with a touch of irony before Frank could reply.
“Why? Are we in danger?” he asked in alarm.
“Not at all,” Serafina said. They all looked up to see her emerging from the kitchen. Her color was high, her cheeks fairly glowing, and her amazing eyes sparkled with some inner light. She carried herself like a queen, and Frank stared admiringly as she moved gracefully down the hallway toward them. “We are all perfectly safe, are we not, Mr. Malloy?”
Frank wasn’t so sure about that, but he said, “Yes, you are.”
But no one was listening to him. The other two men only saw Serafina. She held out her hand, and Cunningham took it in both of his.
“I’m so glad to see you,” he said breathlessly.
“I am glad to see you, too. Please, come inside and greet the others.”
She had to tug a bit to reclaim her hand from his eager grip, but then she turned, and he followed her into the parlor. Frank followed, too, but stopped, hovering in the doorway and aware that the Professor was hovering just behind him, listening intently to what she might say.
Everyone greeted Cunningham, and Sharpe made a remark about how he was only five minutes late. Everyone chuckled politely.
“We are all a little nervous today,” Serafina said when they were finished greeting the newcomer. “But we have nothing to fear. I asked Mr. Malloy to come, but now that I am here, I know that everything will be fine. I can feel it. The spirits are surrounding us, protecting us.”
“I thought he was here to tell us he found whoever killed Mrs. Gittings,” Cunningham said with a frown.
“The boy who did it is dead,” the Professor said over Frank’s shoulder.
The three people to whom this was news gasped, and the others stared at him in surprise.
“Do you mean that Italian boy who worked here?” Sharpe asked.
“That’s right,” the Professor confirmed. “Mr. Malloy had arrested him, but he managed to escape and now… Well, they found his body, didn’t they, Mr. Malloy?”
“That’s right,” Malloy said, loath to agree with the Professor about anything but unable to think of a reason to lie.
“How did he die?” Mr. Sharpe asked with obvious disapproval. “I hope it wasn’t at the hands of the police.”
Frank could have taken offense, but since many people had died at the hands of the police while in custody, he chose not to argue the point. “No, he was beaten to death before we could find him.”
“So there is no longer any danger,” Mrs. Burke said with palpable relief. “Nothing to worry about at all.”
