“Why, yes,” Amity said. “I was just about to mention that. He said he intended to take my bridal portrait. How did you know?”
“I asked because there is one significant detail that we have not divulged to the press,” Logan said. He lowered his notebook. “Each victim was found in a different alley. Each one had her throat cut by an extremely sharp blade. The wounds appeared almost surgical in nature.”
“A scalpel,” Amity said suddenly. “He held a scalpel to my throat.”
“Did he?” Logan jotted down another note. “That is very interesting. To continue, the victims were all dressed in the clothes in which they had last been seen. And each was wearing a gold wedding ring.”
“That much has appeared in the press,” Penny said. “The wedding rings are the reason the papers labeled the killer the Bridegroom.”
“Yes,” Logan said. “But what we have managed to keep out of the papers is the fact that in addition to the rings, the women were all wearing lockets. Inside each locket there was a small bridal portrait of the victim. The photographs are clearly the work of a professional photographer.”
Amity frowned. “But none of the women had ever been married.”
“No,” Logan agreed.
“Dear heaven,” Penny whispered. “The man is quite mad.”
A chill swept through Amity. “Were the photographs taken before or after the women were murdered?”
Benedict straightened away from the wall and went to stand at the window. “A number of professional photographers make their livings taking pictures of the deceased.”
Amity shuddered. “The practice has always struck me as quite macabre.”
“It strikes me that way, as well,” Penny said.
“The Bridegroom’s victims were all alive when they were photographed,” Logan said. “Their throats had not yet been cut.”
“Why have you kept the business of the lockets a secret from the press?” Penny asked.
“Believe it or not, we at the Yard have discovered that there are some demented souls who will actually come forward to claim responsibility for crimes that have received a great deal of public attention,” Logan explained.
Benedict turned around. “In other words, you use the detail of the lockets to separate the wheat from the chaff. Only the real killer will know about the photographs.”
“Yes,” Logan said.
Penny put down her teacup. “Something has just occurred to me. It probably amounts to nothing—”
“Go on, Mrs. Marsden,” Logan said.
“The rumors of what everyone, including the killer, assumed to be an illicit liaison between my sister and Mr. Stanbridge started to circulate following the Channing ball. If the killer does, indeed, move in Polite Society as Amity believes, perhaps he was actually present at the ball. That would certainly explain how he came to hear of the gossip.”
Logan looked impressed. “That is a very intriguing observation, Mrs. Marsden.”
Amity turned toward Penny. “It’s positively brilliant.”
“Thank you,” Penny said. “But I don’t see how the observation can be of much use.”
“It gives me a starting point,” Logan said. “I told my superior that I suspected that the killer moved in elevated circles because his victims all came from that world. But he was reluctant to accept the notion.”
“Probably because he knew such a theory would be extremely difficult to investigate,” Benedict said.
He and Logan exchanged glances. Men and their silent methods of communicating, Amity thought. It could be quite annoying. But she had to admit that women were equally inclined to nonverbal exchanges that were probably incomprehensible to the male of the species.
It was a great pity that the two sexes could not communicate so well with each other, she thought.
Logan’s expression was grim. “I see you comprehend my predicament, Mr. Stanbridge.”
“Of course, Inspector,” Benedict said. “You are looking for a killer who moves in wealthy circles, the one strata of Society where it is virtually impossible for a policeman of any rank to go uninvited.”
