She reached for the handle of the door and he attempted to stop her. But it was too late.
The body lying on the floor was already in full view.
Chapter
Seven
As Cordell finished his conversation with the Runners who arrived at the scene once the watch had been sent for them, he realized that this was another terrible blow to Miss Sims. He learned that the victim’s name was Mia Smith, another prominent actress at the theatre, but one who paled in comparison to Miss Sims’ popularity. She was like Miss Adams in that regard, or the first woman to fall prey to this murderer’s vicious attacks, Miss Flynn, at the Whitechapel establishment.
Thus far, Cordell could only decipher that their occupations were the only thing that connected them all, as Mia was the first brunette to be hacked by the killer. She was stabbed multiple times like the previous victims but it was obvious to Cordell that this wasn’t just another murder. He was sending a message—to Miss Sims. She had been purposefully dragged into her dressing room and left there, the trail of blood going all the way down the hall from the back of the stage. It was almost identical to where Miss Adams had been discovered.
He clenched his fists, angry at himself for not deducing this sooner. It was starting to become clear that Miss Sims was the intended target. It could be that someone is infatuated with her as an actress, or a previous lover she might have scorned. Although he didn’t want to have to ask such questions about her personal experiences in the past, he knew it was necessary at this point. He had to discover everything about her, whether he cared to know or not. If this was a premeditated attack, her life wasn’t just in danger. Her every move was perilous. One misstep without the proper protection and she could easily find herself lying in her own pool of blood.
For now, he had to figure out a way to be there for her without being too overbearing. Which might be difficult, since it was apparent the house of cards she’d built around herself wasn’t as strong as she’d imagined it was and was currently starting to fall in around her. He would like to insist that she not return to the theatre at all but he was going to have to ensure she was under close scrutiny at all times, either by himself or a trusted associate.
Forced out of her dressing room where the investigation was currently taking place, Cordell found Miss Sims sitting in the front row of the main auditorium. She was sitting alone but there were plenty of other people milling about that he hadn’t worried about her safety. If the criminal was brazen enough to try and stroll inside and attack her in front of Cordell, it wasn’t going to end well for him. Then again, Cordell had decided that it wasn’t going to end well for him either way.
He didn’t say anything, finding that words had abruptly fled. Not only that, but he recalled when he’d found his mother and the endless array of questions that had assaulted him. He had just wanted to be left alone, to be numb for as long as he could possibly allow himself to be.
In the end, she was the one who spoke up. “How do you live with the guilt?” She hugged herself and stared at the floor. “I keep seeing Geneva and Mia, their bodies torturing me, and all I can think is—that could have been me. I told Mia that she would be safe and I lied to her. How can I ever forgive myself for that?”
Cordell weighed his words carefully. “I cannot say that it will be easier to understand why you were spared when the others were not. If you recall, you nearly did not. It was your instinct for survival that kept you alive. But you cannot blame yourself for attempting to ease the situation. It was not as if you blatantly told an untruth knowing there would be a different outcome.”
“Do you not believe that they had the same desire to live?” She shook her head and turned her focus to him. Other than being overrun with moisture, there was passion lit in their emerald depths. “I want to help you find him. If he is after me, as you seem to think, then use me to lure him.”
Cordell ground his teeth together. “Absolutely not. You are courting certain death by even suggesting it.”
“I cannot sit here and do nothing while my friends, the women I have come to think very deeply about, are killed in such a senseless manner. You have to let me stop him.”
“You are upset. You are not speaking rationally. Let us wait until you calm down, for the shock to wear off and then?—”
She got to her feet. “I am perfectly well, Mr. Steele and if you refuse to aid me in his matter then I will find my own solution. I am not a damsel in distress that needs your approval. I only need to see this bastard captured.”
As she proceeded to stomp away, Cordell grabbed her arm and turned her back to face him. “I understand that you want vengeance. What has happened here the last two nights is unthinkable, a ridiculous act of violence that could have easily been prevented if we had but known the cause of the villain’s actions. But the answer is not to run all over London and leave yourself vulnerable. We must be more circumspect. If the killer is aware that he is being hunted, I can assure you that he will strike out at random and we might never find another connection. As it stands, we can find a way to get him to come to us, but we must be careful how we do it. Trust me, Miss Sims, when I say this is not the first time I have dealt with a mass murderer. Since my father died, I have devoted my time and efforts to nothing but learning about men of a similar bent. They will stop at nothing, I repeat nothing, to get what they want.”
He was thankful when his words finally seemed to penetrate her consciousness. “What causes these men to act in such a manner?”
“There are any number of reasons. It could be personal trauma or some sort of warped sexual desire. Whatever the reason, it is wise not to underestimate their abilities, nor the lengths to which they will go to ensure their latest victim meets their untimely end.”
She wanted to cover her ears, to block out what he was telling her, to pretend that none of this madness was actually happening. But she could not ignore the possibility that Mr. Steele was right, that she very well could be the ultimate prize for this killer. How had everything she had worked so hard to obtain come to this?
She thought of the delicious breakfast she’d consumed that morning and how it was already starting to curdle in the pit of her stomach.
Forcing her racing mind to calm, she took a deep inhale and released it slowly. “I have to get ready for tonight’s show.”
He gave a snort. “You cannot possibly think that the curtain will rise after this. I am going to suggest the theatre be closed while a thorough investigation is concluded.”
“Absolutely not. The play can go on and it must.” She raised a fist and set it over her heart. “Do you not see why it must be so? The deaths of my friends shall be in vain if we allow fear to control us. We must not give him the satisfaction of knowing he has disrupted the order of things, that he has disrupted me.”
Aislynn could tell that Cordell wanted to argue with her but it was difficult to do so when she offered such logic. “I admit that is a sound argument,” he begrudgingly admitted. “The one thing I deduced from men like my father was the notoriety that their victim’s anguish brought to them. It seemed to heighten the need to kill more. If you were, indeed, to act as though nothing had changed, it would surely anger the murderer. It might cause him to create a major disruption which would certainly make capturing him much easier.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I will speak to the owner of the establishment. I cannot promise that he will agree to your plan. No doubt word is already spreading throughout London.”
“And you believe that will keep the patrons at bay?” She shook her head. “If that is so, you do not understand society at all, Mr. Steele. People will come to the play tonight in the hope that they will see something shocking.”
Again, he appeared to offer a reluctant acceptance. “You are correct again, Miss Sims. I am not sure I like that you have such a sharp wit about you.”
“I am afraid you must get used to it, Mr. Steele, if we are to be living under the same roof for some time.”
It wasn’t until he’d taken his leave to find the manager of the theatre that Aislynn realized how intimate her words had been, as if their association was much closer than they had agreed upon.
