“I simply feel sorry for him. Pearl had a fickle nature.”
“They’d been together for two years!”
“Did either of you see another gentleman at the burial this morning with warts on his face?” I asked. “He was half-hidden behind a tree and left before the end.”
They both shook their heads.
A gentleman entered and glanced around the foyer. When his gaze fell on Miss Clare, she smiled broadly and excused herself.
Mr. Alcott watched her as she accepted the gentleman’s kiss on her cheek. “She’s going to be a handful, that one, if she ever becomes a star of Pearl’s stature. Pearl might have lived a fast life, but she was never mean to others, she never put anyone down. She was just too carefree and frivolous to be mean.” He nodded at Miss Clare and the gentleman. “He hasn’t come to pay his respects to Pearl, he’s come to see Dotty. Little does he know, he’ll be overthrown by mid-year.”
“Why?”
“Because Dotty is taking over the lead female role in the play, and her star will rise just as quickly as Pearl’s did. When that happens, Dotty will aim higher than that poor man. He’s not rich enough or influential enough to satisfy her ambition.”
“How ambitious is she?”
His gaze slid to mine, but he took a moment to answer. “Dotty was jealous of Pearl. Pearl had what Dotty wanted—fame, adoration, the best roles.”
I arched my brow, hoping I didn’t have to ask the question outright.
Fortunately he seemed to understand. “Dotty wouldn’t have resorted to violence to satisfy her ambition. She is young; she simply had to bide her time before Pearl’s star began to fall.” He did not sound convincing, however. Pearl hadn’t been very old, after all. Her career and stardom could have lasted several more years.
“You say you were Pearl’s friend, but how well did you know her?” I asked.
“Probably as well as anyone here, except Culpepper.” He nodded at the manager, seeing off some mourners at the door. “They go back quite a few years. She played minor roles in other theaters, until he cast her in her first leading role here at the Playhouse. She worked for him ever since.”
“Were they ever intimate?”
“I don’t know. I often wondered, but I never asked. They had a good working relationship, but they occasionally argued.”
“What about?”
He shrugged. “I’d see her storming out of his office, or hear raised voices but not the words. I asked her about it once and she said Culpepper was being unreasonable and that was that. I assume he’d asked her to add an extra performance, or to sing a song that didn’t suit her voice. She had trouble with the high notes,” he said as an aside.
“Did Pearl ever mention her family?”
“Very rarely and it was usually in casual conversation. Most recently, I asked her what she was doing for Christmas, and she said dining with her sister’s family. That’s what I mean by casually. I got the feeling she hardly saw them, but I don’t think there was any ill-feeling between them. Pearl never made a face when she spoke about her sister, for example. They probably just grew apart. It can happen in our business. Some family members don’t like our choice of career.”
“Or lifestyle?”
He gave me a humorless smile. “Quite. Do you know, today at the funeral was the first time I’d ever seen her sister. She looked a little like Pearl, although not nearly as beautiful.”
“Did Pearl ever ask you for money?”
My question seemed to surprise him. “No, but she knew I couldn’t give her any. I only ever get minor roles, you see, and I have expensive tastes in suits and lovers.” His eyes flashed wickedly. “Does that shock you, Miss Fox?”
“Not at all,” I said smoothly.
“Then you’re a woman of the world.” He removeda silver cigarette case from his jacket pocket. “Care to join me in the smoking room?”
It was nice to be asked. When I’d attempted smoking in order to glean information from a suspect in the last murder, the men in the hotel’s smoking room had judged me to be a certain type of woman. It seemed Mr. Alcott was not like other men.
“Thank you, but I must be getting home. If you think of anything relevant, would you please send word to me at The Mayfair Hotel.”
His eyebrows rose. “Rumford’s putting you up at the Mayfair while you investigate? You must be good.”
I almost didn’t tell him, but it seemed wrong not to be honest. “Actually I live there and just happened to overhear Lord Rumford saying he suspected Pearl’s death wasn’t suicide. I offered to investigate.”
