Somewhere a clock ticked with maddening slowness. She also caught the sound of laughter somewhere down the hallway.
She'd really gotten herself into a difficult situation. Of all the hare-brained ideas she'd ever come up with for her and Lucy, this one was possibly the worst. She had to find a way out of here.
Jerrold! Where the devil was he when she needed him? But she already knew the answer to that. She gave a very unladylike snort. He'd been one of the first of these so-called gentlemen to disappear with the evening's'entertainment.'
Elyse flung aside the elegant drapes that covered the windows on the far wall. For a second, she considered going out a window. But one look at the drop to the street below convinced her otherwise.
Eyeing a second door, she quickly crossed the room. It opened onto a closet filled with an array of garments and other curious items she chose not to inspect. After trying the first door once more, she paced the room.
Eight
Zach downed another brandy as he wondered just what the young 'man'upstairs was thinking right about now. Several minutes had passed since Fatima had led the startled"fellow" up those stairs.
His eyes narrowed as he saw her return. She was preceded by several of the girls who'd performed earlier. She didn't look as though she intended to stay for the remainder of the evening. A heavy black shawl was wrapped about her body, and she seemed more than a little nervous as she glanced in first one direction and then another, urging the girls to the back of the club. Zach set down the empty brandy glass.
"Where are you going?" His hand closed around her arm.
"I am leaving," she told him. "And if you are wise, you will do the same," she cautioned, her gaze darting about the large room.
"What is it? What's happened?"
He knew the Gypsies well. They lived by cunning and stealth. Over the past few years, he'd acquired those traits himself. He'd learned them quickly as a matter of survival.
"The local constables are on their way here!" she replied.
"This is a private club," Zach replied. "What would the authorities want here?"
Fatima leaned closer, her words urgent. "There was trouble earlier this evening, down near the docks. A young girl was found dead. Before she died, she gave information about her attacker. He was a very rich and powerful man."
"There are many rich men in London." Zach was inclined to doubt what she was saying.
"But how many rich men strangle a woman with this." Reaching around Zach to the heavy velvet drapes, she seized the distinctive gold satin braid bordering one.
She leaned in closer. "A length of it was found around the girl's neck. And your host for the evening was gone for several hours before you arrived."
"Barrington?"
She shrugged, then looked past him at the sudden pounding on the doors at the front entrance. "I am leaving," she announced. "You'd be wise to do the same."
"What about my young friend?"
"He is not worth the trouble."
"Where did you leave him?" Zach insisted as he started toward the stairs.
"The first room on the left. But there isn't time," she called after him.
"What about a way out of here?"
"At the back of the kitchen is a large cupboard. The wall behind is fake. It leads into a passage that adjoins the next building."
"You've used it before?"
"When necessary," she replied.
Zach thanked her and climbed the stairs two at a time as the knocking at the entrance doors continued. Upstairs, doors were being thrown open. Downstairs, pandemonium broke out among the 'guests' as some fool opened the front doors.
He reached the top landing as the alarm went out to the rest of the club members. This would be a night to remember.
