From Elizabeth’s conjectures about records, she’d expected a filing cabinet or something, but she saw only a desk with a tiny lamp, a heavy chair, and a rug that was rolled at the edges of the room, too large for it. It was all good quality, better suited to a real office than this hole in the wall.
She rounded the desk with difficulty, her thighs squeezing between the desk and the wall, and sat in the chair. It was dreadfully uncomfortable for how plush it looked.
The desk drawers were unlocked, to her surprise, but held only pens, ink, spare poker chips. She ran her fingers over the insides of the desk drawers in hopes of a secret compartment. That was just the sort of thing one would expect to find behind a secret door in a secret gaming room.
She leaned forward, digging her hand all the way back into a drawer, and let out a yelp as pain bit her inquitean intimate place. She jerked out of the chair, only to see that a sharp corner had been raised within the leather that ought to be well padded.
For a long moment, she stared at it. Then she let out a disbelieving laugh and went to her knees. She curled an arm under the chairand brushed the underside of the seat, only to encounter a familiar feeling: the binding of a book.
With some careful maneuvering, she shifted the book until it was extracted from the crisscross of iron just beneath where the cushion ought to be. A grin spread across her face as she lifted the book to the desk.
It was a ledger, simply bound in black leather and absolutely enormous. Half the pages had the wrinkled look of having been written on. She flipped open the first page.
Secret codes should be added to her list of disappointments for the evening; this was a plain accounting of the patrons and their debts to the club. Alfie’s name was nowhere to be found, but when Saffron flipped to the year 1923 and scanned down the list of alphabetical names, Jeffery Wells was there. And he owed a considerable sum.
Saffron frowned down at the number. A large amount, about a thousand pounds. Enough to sink a fellow, and far more than someone would kill over. But did it have anything to do with the lab? Was there a connection between Alfie and Wells, apart from a gambling debt? Perhaps Alfie had been sent to Harpenden to insist Wells repay his debt.
That was a tidy solution, but it wouldn’t explain why Wells had died the way he did nor how it might connect to Petrov’s death.
Petrov! She flipped the page, scanning the list for the Ps. Her whole body jolted, however, when her eyes lit on another name.
The book had to be wrong—but how could it be?
Why would whoever did the accounting for this illicit casino write in an entry about Colin Eugene Smith, age twenty-eight, living on Berwick Street in Soho, if it was notElizabeth’sColin Eugene Smith, age twenty-eight, living on Berwick Street in Soho?
Her stomach roiled with the knowledge that the man her best friend had been seeing was in deep, dark debt.
It was not … unbelievable that Colin was a gambler, nor that he could have found his way to a place like this. The number on the paper, however, boggled the mind when one considered Colin’s expensive clothing and his purported hobbies. She just wished she didn’t have to now tell Elizabeth.
Gritting her teeth, she finished her search. The P section of 1923 was missing any Petrovs, as was the rest of the book, going back to its beginning in 1920. She replaced the book and was just straightening up when a renewed disturbance beyond the little office stopped her heart in her chest. What had happened now?
CHAPTER33
The first sign something was wrong was that the cabaret’s music, which could be heard over the chatter of the gamblers, stopped abruptly. The aftermath of the supposed cheater’s loud expulsion from the room had taken a good deal of time to settle, so few patrons noticed the sudden lack of music. Elizabeth watched as they shrugged it off and went back to their gaming.
Lee noticed, and sent her a questioning look across the poker table over which they both stood. He’d sidled over to her during the hubbub and they’d exchanged a few terse whispers before moving apart again, the better to keep an eye on the room and the hidden door. The moment either of them saw any indication that Saffron was ready to emerge, or that one of the guards planned to enter the room, they’d create another distraction.
The music falling silent was not a cause for alarm—that is, until a subtle rattle began to make ripples in the drinks on the poker table.
The other patrons noticed that. The room slowly quieted.
Then one of the tuxedoed waiters from the cabaret burst through the casino’s entrance. Face glistening with sweat, he spoke only one word, and it was sufficient to throw the room into chaos. “Raid!”
Noise and movement surrounded Elizabeth, buffeting her before she’d fully processed the waiter’s announcement. Then her hand was in Lee’s and he was dragging her in the opposite direction of the crowd. The frantic patrons were making for the doors—doors thathad not been there moments before, the half-sized ones the bruisers had opened by tearing the paneling from the walls.
Once she realized Lee was pushing in the direction of the secret office’s door, she did her best to shove her way forward. They were there in moments, only to be thwarted by the door being locked.
Elizabeth yanked on the embedded handle, then stared blankly at this unexpected obstacle. Who’d locked the bloody thing, and how were they meant to get Saffron out without drawing the attention of the guards who hadn’t yet escaped? The room was already draining of patrons scrambling for their chance to flee through the tiny doors. They’d miss their own chance to get out before the police busted in if they didn’t get cracking.
“Break it down,” Elizabeth ordered.
Lee looked agog at her. “Break down the door? Are you mad? Those thugs will break me in half!”
“How else are we meant to get her out?” hissed Elizabeth.
Harassed as he was, Lee managed to give her a disparaging look. “You could try knocking.”
He did so, pitching his voice low to call, “Everleigh, open up. We’ve got to breeze.”
