“You’ll stay with her until the nurse arrives?” Leo asked, glancing at Mrs. Thomas.
The woman looked like she wanted to argue, but she glanced around the crime scene of a room. Swallowing her questions, she nodded and followed the policeman.
“Leo, what’s going on?” Vivian whispered, pulling away from him.
She could feel his reluctance as he let her go, but he didn’t try to stop her. “I’m so sorry,” he said again, and she thought he might be about to cry. “I should have gotten here faster. I should have had a tail put on him right away. One of the men spotted him by accident and followed him here before calling it in. If I’d gotten here sooner…” He trailed off, looking sick. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop him in time.”
“Coroner and doctor are here, Mr. Green,” another policeman said.
Leo cleared his throat. “Send them in,” he said, his voice suddenlybrisk. A moment later, two men in rumpled suits who looked as if they had dressed while half-asleep entered. One went straight to the sheet-covered body, his movements impersonal and efficient as he pulled it back and began his examination.
Vivian turned away quickly, the movement making her wobble on her feet. The other man caught her arm. “Steady there, girlie,” he said. “You should be sitting down.”
He eased her into a chair, his eyes narrowing. Vivian flinched away from his stern expression, but his voice was gentle when he spoke again. “Seems like our dead fellow was quite a brute,” he said, and the sympathy made Vivian’s eyes fill with tears.
“Seems like,” she whispered.
The doctor’s hands were gentle, too. He cupped them against her cheeks and tilted her head from side to side while he inspected her bruises, checked her pulse, and wiggled her fingers and toes. He asked her to bend forward while he pressed his fingers along her spine, eliciting winces and gasps of pain. Finally, he pulled a flat pocket light from his vest, holding her chin still when she would have flinched away from the bright light and instructing her to follow it side to side with her eyes.
The examination only took a few minutes, but Vivian could feel Leo’s anxious eyes on her the whole time. And last the doctor stood, looking satisfied. “You’re battered and bruised, young lady, and your voice may take a few days to recover. But I don’t see anything worse than that.”
Pulling a small bottle from his pocket, he shook out two white tablets and held them out to her. Leo’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. The doctor looked startled before he chuckled and eased Leo’s fingers away. “Just aspirin, lad. She’s going to ache for a few days after a beating like that. But you’re young and healthy, girlie,” he added. “You’ll be okay.”
She nodded, silently accepting the aspirin and the glass of water another policeman offered her, swallowing them obediently. She ignoredthe strange men surrounding her and kept her eyes fixed on Leo, though she didn’t speak.
He met her gaze for a moment, then turned to the doctor again. “The sister is in the bedroom, the one who…” He cleared his throat. “Who fired the shot. Did he get his hands on her?” he asked, turning to Vivian.
She shook her head. “Just me,” she whispered. “Florence was asleep. She heard him and…” Vivian trailed off, unable to say it.
Leo nodded. “Physically, she should be okay then,” he said to the doctor. “But I’d still like you to look at her.”
The doctor nodded and took his bag with him to examine Florence. Vivian half started to her feet before she remembered that Mrs. Thomas was in there and would make sure there was no funny business. Sinking back down, she gathered her courage and finally glanced to where the coroner was finishing his examination.
She caught a glimpse of Roy’s face, the bloody mess of his chest, before the coroner tugged the sheet back into place and stood. “Time of death between three and four o’clock in the morning,” he said calmly, dusting his hands off. “Two gunshot wounds, one to the shoulder and one to the center of the chest, both at relatively close range. I assume the scratches on his face were your doing?” he asked, glancing at Vivian with the bland curiosity of someone who faced death every day. She swallowed and nodded. “Smart girl. Always go for the eyes and the balls.” He turned back to Leo. “If we’re done here, we can take him to the morgue now.”
Vivian couldn’t look away as the two policemen lifted the body onto a stretcher. As they maneuvered their way out the door, she started shaking again, and couldn’t stop until Leo wrapped his arms around her.
“It’s over, Viv,” he murmured. “It’s all over now.”
She pulled away from him as soon as she had herself under control, standing and putting the chair between them. “You’re a cop, then?” She winced at the pain in her throat.
“No.” He shook his head. “My uncle is the commissioner. My father’s Jewish, and my mother got herself disowned for marrying him, so I’m not officially part of the family. But sometimes my uncle likes having someone he trusts who can work outside the law, here and in Chicago. And he pays well, even if he is an ass. I was back in town, so he put me on investigating Wilson’s death from the other side of things.” He smiled, the expression sad and wary and hopeful all at once. His eyes never left hers. “I’m also a hell of a supplier. I knew just about every bootlegger in Chicago before I left.”
Vivian was still trying to decide what to say to that when the doctor came back, along with the policeman who had carried Florence. “She’s in shock, but nothing a little rest shouldn’t set to rights,” he said, easing the bedroom door shut. “I’ve given her a sedative, and the neighbor woman will stay until the nurse arrives. You’ll want to make sure she eats when she wakes up,” he added, glancing at Vivian. “The nurse can stay for a few days to help out.”
“We can’t afford a nurse,” Vivian said, a familiar knot of worry tightening in her chest.
“It’ll be taken care of,” Leo said. Vivian sent him a sharp look, but he ignored it. “Thanks, Doctor. You can see yourself out?”
The doctor jerked his chin toward Vivian. “She needs her rest as well.”
“We have to go to the station first,” Leo said. Seeing Vivian’s sudden fear, he added, “Florence’s name will be kept out of the report, and so will yours if I can manage it. You just need to make a statement about Carlton. Whatever you overheard him saying to Mrs. Wilson, what he said to you tonight, what happened when he got here, that sort of thing. The whole business can be officially ended. Then I’ll bring you right back here.”
It wasn’t a request. One of the policemen had retrieved her bag and key from where Roy had let them fall and set them on the table. Vivian picked them up, ignoring the blood that spotted one corner of the bag, and nodded. “Lead the way, Mr. Green.”
Vivian cupped her hands gratefully around the mug of coffee the butler had handed her. She didn’t drink any, but she was greedy for its warmth. Someone had draped a coat over her shoulders before she was ushered into the police car—she had fought down her panic when the door closed behind her, grateful for Leo’s presence in the seat next to her even if she wouldn’t look at him—but she was still shivering.
They hadn’t gone to the police station. Instead, Leo had taken her to the back door of a beautiful residence on the Upper East Side, where a stone-faced butler showed them into the study. A moment later, an older man with a luxurious mustache and a beautiful brocade dressing gown had entered.
