“Your first husband died rather conveniently, I’m told.”
Leona laughed. “Dear Roger suffered from a very severe case of gastric distress.”
“Brought on by steady doses of arsenic.”
“Heir powder, I believe the French call it. It is also very popular with women who wish to become widows.”
“When you discovered that your first husband had not left you nearly as much money as you had expected—”
“Not nearly as much as I hadearned.” Leona’s cheeks blazed with sudden fury. “Do you know what it is like to be married to a man who is old enough to be your father? It is a living hell.”
“So you got rid of him and set out to seduce Benedict. But that plan failed, didn’t it? You seem to have much better luck with gentlemen who are in their dotage.”
A wild rage flashed in Leona’s eyes. “It is Benedict’s fault that I was forced to marry that old fool Penhurst. He proved to be a cheap bastard. He actually changed his will shortly after we were married. When he dies I will be left with nothing—only a fraction of his estate.”
“Ah, so that is why he is still alive. I wonder if he realizes how fortunate he is.”
“The Rose Necklace should have been mine,” Leona said, her voice raw and tight. “Itwillbe mine. You should have been dead by now. Virgil was supposed to make you one of his brides.”
“Why take the risk of using your unstable brother to try to murder me?”
Leona smiled. “Because I knew that Benedict would feel responsible for your death. After all, if it wasn’t for the gossip about the two of you, the Bridegroom would never have selected you as his victim. I wanted Benedict to pay a price for the hellish marriage he forced me into.”
“Why do you need the necklace? Surely you have earned a nice income working for the Russians.”
“Not nearly enough to allow me to live in the style I deserve. But the Rose Necklace will change all that.”
“Where will you go?”
“Who knows?” Leona shrugged. “Perhaps I shall take some guidance from one of your essays in theFlying Intelligencer. What was it you wrote? ‘In the American West, there is no past, only the future. One is free to reinvent oneself.’”
“I don’t think that’s going to work for you, Leona.”
“It will work. Give me the bloody necklace.”
“Or you’ll shoot me? Don’t be silly. Benedict is out in the hall. He will hear the shot and come at once.”
“But that will be much too late to save you.”
“Very well.”
Amity reached up slowly to unfasten the long, sweeping cloak. She pulled the folds of the domino aside at her throat, revealing the spectacular necklace.
Leona’s eyes widened. “It is even more amazing than I imagined.”
Amity reached up slowly to unclasp it.
The door opened behind her. Benedict walked into the room. Logan and Cornelius, dressed in black dominos like so many others at the ball, were directly behind him.
“I think we’ve heard enough, Inspector, don’t you?” Benedict said.
“Yes,” Logan said. “With your testimony and that of Miss Doncaster there will be no problem sending Lady Penhurst away to prison.”
“No.” Panic and fury lit Leona’s eyes. She edged toward the door behind her. “If you arrest me you’ll never get the Foxcroft notebook.”
“Actually, the notebook isn’t all that important,” Cornelius said. “What I was really after tonight was the Russian agent. That would be you, my dear.”
“It’s over, Leona,” Amity said. “Put the gun down.”
