“But whoever it was would have had to plan on it,” Leo pointed out. “No one’s going to decide to murder a fella on the spur of the moment,run down to the kitchen, snatch up a knife, run back up, and stab him.”
“Well, there you go,” Vivian said, her voice rising in something that was half excitement, half outrage as she slapped her hands down on the desk. “Those damn cops were trying to make it out like I got so upset by him coming on to me—like any girl is going to be surprised by that sort of thing—and hauled off and stabbed him to death. That proves I couldn’t have, right?” she said hopefully, looking between Leo and the doctor.
Her face fell when neither of them mirrored her eagerness. “If they need to, they’re just going to say it was something else,” Leo said quietly. “An affair gone wrong, or one of his enemies paying you to get close.”
“He had them, of course,” Dr. Norris said, nodding in agreement. “Men in his position always do.” Seeing Vivian’s face fall, though, he cleared his throat. “That wasn’t all. The knife didn’t narrow things down much, but I noticed a few… oddities about the body. So I performed some tests.”
Vivian swallowed, trying not to look too nervous. She’d heard about the sort of tests he and his team did, grinding up organs like sausage meat and worse. It helped catch killers, sure, but it was gruesome to think about. “And you found something?” she said, more warily this time. She couldn’t get her hopes up. She needed to think of the worst if she wanted to be prepared.
“I did.” The medical examiner leaned forward. “Our victim had also been poisoned.”
For a moment, the room was so silent that Vivian could hear the squeak of someone’s shoes hurrying down the hall. “But then… what the hell does that mean? You’re saying someone poisoned him, and then stabbed him for good measure? Just to, what, make sure he was really dead?” She shuddered at the thought.
“No.” Dr. Norris shook his head. “The poison didn’t kill him. Itwould have; those metals build up in the body over time. But if they’re administered slowly, it doesn’t look like a poisoning. It looks like someone getting gradually sicker, and then, after a long illness, dying.”
“So…” Vivian glanced at Leo. “Someone was trying to kill him slowly. But they got impatient and killed him fast instead.”
“Right now, that’s how it looks.” The medical examiner steepled his fingers under his chin, watching her.
“But that means it had to be someone close to him,” Vivian said, sitting up straighter. “Someone who could get poison into, what, his dinner? His breakfast? Someone who could do it easily. Meaningnotme.” When the doctor opened his mouth to say something, Vivian held up her hand. “I know, I know. They could tie it to me still. Say I was hired, or something like that. If he liked pretty girls, it’s easy to say I knew I’d be able to get close to him. But it’ssomething.”
“It is something,” Dr. Norris agreed, standing up. “Do with it what you will.”
Vivian, taking the hint, stood too. “Can I ask one more thing?”
The doctor raised his brows. “You can always ask.”
“It’s about… about my mother again.” Vivian took a deep breath. She didn’t want to think about what might happen to her. But she couldn’t afford not to. “Would you send anything you find to my sister? I can give you her address. Just in case I…”
His expression had softened as she spoke. “I see. Yes, of course.” He gestured to the pad of paper on his desk. “Would you like to write it down for me?”
Vivian quickly scribbled down Florence’s name and the address of the restaurant on Spring Street, telling herself it wouldn’t actually matter. When she straightened, she held out her hand. “Thanks for your help. With everything.”
Dr. Norris smiled grimly. “Can’t say it was a pleasure, young lady, but it certainly was interesting. And it will be even more interesting to see what you do with it,” he said, shaking her hand. “And then nexttime you’re in a position to do me a favor, you can be sure I’ll be in touch.”
Vivian swallowed, her stomach fluttering. She couldn’t imagine what sort of favor she could do for someone like him. But that was how this worked—and he was a decent man, as far as she could tell. So she gave her hair a flip and him a smile that was only half bravado. “Anytime, Doc. You just let me know.”
SEVENTEEN
The band was in a mellow mood that night. Mr. Smith, the bandleader, kept Bea crooning one love song after another, her rich voice filling every corner. More than once, Vivian worried whether her friend would be able to keep up after spending all day on her feet on Fifth Avenue. But Bea’s voice never faltered. And the dancers were happy to keep their cheeks pressed close and hands clasped while their toes traced sweeping arcs across the floor.
Vivian longed to join them. As much as she loved the speed and wildness of a Charleston, there was nothing like the tingling electricity of finding a skillful partner for a tango. But she was waiting for one person in particular.
“Danny, where the hell is Honor?” she demanded, stretching out her aching shoulders as she deposited her tray on the bar. “Are you in charge tonight or something?”
“Aren’t I always, kitten?” he asked, pushing aside the hair that fell across his eyes and grinning at her. He had abandoned his coat, andthe sleeves of his shirt were rolled up over his forearms to keep them from getting splashed with each generous pour. Danny never stinted on the good booze; it was one reason the Nightingale had so many regulars.
The nickname made Vivian smile, since he so rarely used it with her anymore. Once he had flirted happily with nearly every woman at the bar. But he had left most of that behind when he and Florence married, even if he was still generous with what he knew all too well was a killer smile. Vivian approved—she’d have been angry if he gave her sister a kiss each night and left to make eyes at every pretty girl who crossed his path. But he had first called her kitten the night Bea brought her to the Nightingale, nervous and determined to pretend that she wasn’t. It was still nice, from time to time, to remember that he had been her friend first.
But that didn’t stop her from leaning closer and fixing him with a serious stare. “You know what I mean. I need to talk to her.”
“About…?”
Vivian raised her brows, and Danny grimaced. “It’ll have to wait; she’s chatting up one of our suppliers downstairs.” He lowered his voice. “The guy who runs our whiskey got arrested last night. Stupid of him. Never skimp on your bribes.”
“That’s a problem, yeah?” Vivian asked.
Danny waved one hand as though waving away her concern. “He’ll be out after the weekend. We just need to make sure we’re not short until then. So you’ll have to wait until—”
