He lifted one shoulder in a bland shrug. “Curiosity. It killed the cat and no doubt it will be my undoing, as well.”
“I suppose that is fair enough. What do you wish to know?”
He gave a short, mirthless laugh that was probably intended to make me feel stupid. It succeeded wildly. “Everything. To begin, how could you, a woman of such obvious intellectual gifts, not realize the danger of a Gypsy camp?”
“I did realize the danger. That is precisely why I went.”
He passed a hand over his eyes. They were shadowed today, and I wondered if he felt another headache coming on.
“I do not understand you. Most women would go fleeing in the opposite direction of such a situation.”
“Oh, and so would I, under other circumstances. But you see, I did not have a choice.”
Brisbane’s eyes were sharp and wolfy. “Because you wanted to find the box before I did.”
“Yes. Or no, I mean I wanted the box, but I went to find you, really.”
“To ask me to give up on Magda, I expect.”
“No, of course not,” I said, growing exasperated. Why were men so impossibly obtuse at times? “If I were so worried about poor Magda, I would hardly have told you where to find her. Come to think of it, why did you even tell me that you were making for the camp?”
“Because I did not think you would be daft enough to follow me,” he returned, his temper rising.
“But how else was I supposed to make certain that you were all right?”
He went quite still then. I would have sworn that even his pulse did not beat in that quiet moment. “Explain,” he said finally, his voice quite low.
“As you pointed out, Roma camps can be dangerous places. I thought you meant to tear off and accuse Magda of something dreadful—something her menfolk would not stand for. To be honest, I would not have given a farthing for your chances if you hadn’t known the language. As it was, you were really quite lucky, you know. Magda’s family are very private, even for Gypsies. They don’t mix very much with their own kind.”
He was staring at me with an expression that would have been dull-witted on any other man. I waited while he gathered his thoughts and closed his mouth.
“Let me see if I understand you,” he began slowly. “You went along because you thought you were on a mission of rescue?”
“Something like that. I mean, I doubt Val and I could have done much against a tribe of angry Roma, but we do know Magda’s family. We could have vouched for you, that sort of thing. I rather think they feel they owe me something for taking care of Magda, which is utterly backward when you think about it, because they are the ones who turned her out without so much as a cook pot—Mr. Brisbane? Brisbane, are you quite all right? You look very queer.”
He rose and went to the window. He was thinking, apparently something too electric to share. I shrugged and sucked another cachou, waiting for him to get hold of himself.
After a minute or so he resumed his chair. “Forgive me, my lady. I was simply struck by the irony.”
“Irony?”
He waved a hand. “Never mind. I sent word to Mordecai about Mrs. Birch’s observations. He wrote back this morning. He seems quite encouraged by her information and tells me that he hopes to have discovered the source of the poison within a few days. Then we shall be one step closer to finding our man.”
“Our man. You still think the murderer a man?”
He shook his head slowly. “No. I meant the word figuratively. Poison is often a woman’s weapon, and the method…it speaks of love gone wrong, does it not?”
I nodded slowly. “I suppose the brothel, then. Perhaps he had a relationship with a particular girl…”
Brisbane was watching me closely.
“Do not think that I enjoy this, Mr. Brisbane, but it is only logical.”
“Yes. Especially when you know the purpose of the box.”
He reached again into his pocket, this time producing the little porcelain box that was the source of so much trouble. It was rectangular, fitted with gilt or perhaps even gold fastenings. It was slim and elegantly proportioned, but the colours of Pandora’s portrait were rather garish. Gilt, I decided finally.
He opened it, but it was empty. “Do you know what this is?”
