“I’m only a few years older than you.”
Goliath snorted. “If a few is fifteen, then sure.”
“Fifteen! How old do you think I am?”
“Stop it,” Harmony hissed. “Let Miss Fox speak.”
With the group quiet, I told them about meeting Mrs. Larsen and what she’d told me of her sister’s nature and their fractured relationship. I described the flat with its many photographs of Miss Westwood and the lack of jewelry and personal letters, except for those written by Lord Rumford.
“Where did you look?” Victor asked.
“Everywhere,” I said.
“Whereexactly?”
“The dressing table, writing desk, wardrobes, andcupboards.”
“Did you look in the jars in the cupboards?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling pleased that I was a step ahead of him.
“What about under the carpet?”
“I pulled back the rugs and felt for loose floorboards. I tapped the walls looking for hollowed spaces, and checked for hidden triggers to open false bottoms in the desk and dressing table.”
“What about inside the mattress and cushions?”
My bubble of satisfaction deflated. “No. But I don’t think I would have found any jewelry. I think her sister took them with her when she left.”
He tucked the paring knife in his belt and crossed his arms. “If you want to go back, I can pick the lock and get you in.”
“Victor!” Harmony cried. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Yes, Victor, what’s wrong with you?” I mocked. Harmony didn’t know that Victor had helped me break into the boy’s orphanage, but she must have suspected since she’d pointed me in his direction when I’d asked for someone who could help. “There’s no need to break in.” I held up my purse. “I have the key.”
Victor almost smiled. Despite his seriousness, I was quite sure he had a sense of humor, particularly when it came to teasing Harmony.
“She was a beauty, all right,” Frank said, as if we’d just been talking about Pearl’s looks. “I went to see her perform once, but I couldn’t afford the good seats. But her presence on the stage carried all the way back to me.” His gaze took on a dreamlike quality as he remembered the show. “Rumford was a lucky man.”
Goliath smacked him in the shoulder. When Frank frowned at him, Goliath tried to surreptitiously indicate me with a sideways glance.
Frank shrugged and said, “What?” with oblivious innocence.
“It wasn’t luck,” Harmony said. “Rumford paid her to be with him. Not that I blame her for being his mistress.” When the men all blinked at her, she added, “At least she got something out of the arrangement. Unlike a wife.”
The men continued to stare.
“I don’t blame Pearl either,” I said. “Her beauty was a gift, and must we not use our natural gifts in whatever way we can?”
“It’s a gift that wouldn’t last,” Harmony pointed out.
Mrs. Larsen had said the same thing, that she’d tried to tell her sister her beauty would fade and that she shouldn’t rely on it. I didn’t think Mrs. Larsen was jealous of Pearl, simply a more practical person.
“From looking around her flat, I do think Pearl was rather vain,” I said. “From the photographs, I’d say she knew how to pose, how to look her best, and how to appeal to men. Almost all of the photographs had her standing with one or more men.”
“Maybe a jealous lover killed her,” Victor said. “Someone who hated that she was Rumford’s mistress.”
“Someone who didn’t have enough money to compete against Rumford,” Harmony added. She turned to me. “You should find out if a man came to the theater asking after her.”
