So when it was time to talk to the police, she told them everything.
Two uniformed policemen brought her into the ladies’ sitting room, where she had just been not an hour before. Her heart raced. It was the same wallpaper patterning the walls. The same light scent of soap and lavender. She sat on the edge of the armchair, leaning forward, eager to tell them what she knew.
As she was giving them her name and temporary St. Louis address, another man entered the room. He was disheveled, as though he had been pulled out of bed. But she recognized his face. It was one of the main fair organizers who had been in the papers.
The man exchanged a nod with the head policeman, then leaned against the wall. Listening.
“I saw Harriet Forbes this morning, you see. In the Tunnels,” Grace said. “And there was someone who threatened her about money the other night, at the restaurant.”
“Who was it?”
“I’m not sure. A man. Tall.”
“But you could recognize them?”
“Yes. I mean, I think so. It was dark.”
“Was there anyone else with you who saw that interaction take place?”
“No,” she said, faltering. “I was alone.”
“Were there any other secrets Miss Forbes might have been hiding? Any reason for someone to kill her?”
“But surely you don’t think she waskilled? You think this was murder?”
She felt a chill go down to the deepest parts of her.
The policeman ignored her. “What was the nature of her relationship with your cousin, Oliver Carter?”
Grace felt the blood drain from her face. “Why do you ask?”
“There are witnesses that said they appeared to be arguing shortly before her death.”
Grace’s breath caught in her lungs.
“We’ve also been told that he was jealous of her relationship with Mr. Parker.”
“No, but you see, it’s all a misunderstanding. That wasn’t a real relationship. They were hiding it on behalf of Oliver. He was the very one who asked them to do it, so you see, he wasn’t jealous, he—”
“He asked them toliewhile he saw Miss Forbes in secret?”
“Yes, but—”
“And who was the person who served her the glass tonight? Did you see, Miss Covington?”
Her heart fell, tumbling like it had tripped over a stone in the road she hadn’t seen. “Yes. It was Oliver. But you must understand, he would never do anything to—”
“Thank you,” the policeman said. He smiled tightly. “That will be all.”
By the time Grace returned to her hotel room, it was two o’clock in the morning.
She could vaguely make out the fair lights still glowing in the distance.
She took off her necklace made of paste and stared at her reflection in the watery mirror as though it should have changed. Splashed cold water on her cheeks until the horror broke through the dam she had carefully erected. When the sobs came, she held herself until she was spent.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Harriet falling. The ruby-red glass shattering beside her, scattering and crunching underfoot like pieces of a heart.
What if she had confronted Harriet yesterday?
