The headline from November 1929 reads:LOVERS ON THE RUN: DID PASSION LEAD TO MURDER?
“What’s this?”
“Go ahead. Read it. It’s about the murder of Geraldine Evans. Generally, it appears there were no real suspects, but they did haul Marco Carboni in at one point. Now go on. You read the rest.”
“The woman had a lot of enemies,” Carboni told this reporter, speaking of the victim, Geraldine Evans. “I didn’t like her much, either, but not enough to kill her. I can think of a half dozen people with more motive than me. To start, take a look at her top chambermaid, Rosie Ryan. She’s a sneaky little thing, and she’s been gunning for her boss’s job all along.”
“He thinks Rosie killed Mrs. Evans?” I exclaim, shocked to see my great-grandmother’s name thrown around in this way.
Matthew frowns. “Carboni’s suggesting that Rosie killed her boss because she wanted her job… which is a weird angle. How she’d get a promotion out of that is beyond me. But that’s not the most important part. Keep reading.”
“If you ask around, several people have heard them arguing. Maybe Miss Ryan was in cahoots with her fiancé, Damien Walsh, who is nothing but a waiter and a thief.”
The suspect and her partner have fled, and police are asking for help in locating the couple’s whereabouts. Mr. Carboni has offered a generous financial reward as well.
“Herfiancé,” I whisper, astonished. “They were going to get married.”
I skim over the last two lines, because the murk has started to clear from my mind, and I feel a rush of discovery. If only I wasn’t secreted away here,I’d rush to Grandma’s place. Because I think Matthew just solved the mystery of her life.
I hold Matthew’s steady gaze. “What if Rosie and Damien were engaged, and she got pregnant? What if they fled the city together, whether they killed Mrs. Evans or not, and had a baby once they were free of the threat? But,” I say, thinking it through, “maybe something went wrong, or maybe they were still hiding from the mob after they left, and they knew they couldn’t keep their baby safe, so they took her to a church.” I exhale. “My grandmother has never forgiven Rosie. But this might explain it all.”
He hesitates, looking unsure. “I have a gift for you, Bridget.”
I’m still in shock over Rosie and Damien, but now I’m taken aback at the thought of a gift. “I didn’t get you anything. I didn’t know we were celebrating.”
“Not celebrating, but I found something, and… I wasn’t sure when to give it to you, but now seems the perfect time. Especially since we’re talking about Rosie and Damien together.”
“You don’t need to win me over with a gift, you know. You already won.”
“I know that.”
I laugh at his straightforward response. “You know that? You are constantly surprising me, Professor. Mr. Shy, Mr. Confidence, Mr. I’ll-Take-the-Couch, Mr. Yeah-the-Bed-Would-Be-Comfier…”
I see that familiar note of alarm. “Bridget. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest—”
“And I don’t mean to embarrass you,” I assure him. “So? Where’s my present?”
He reaches into his bag, still nervous, but eager, too. “It’s not just a present, really. It’s, well, this is pretty special.”
He hands me a little black box, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. It’s not unlike a box from a jewellery store, and I’m a little alarmed. I really like Matthew, but we hardly know each other. For him to give me jewellery, well, it seems a little fast. And that is out of character for him.
I hold it up, questioning. “What—”
“I brought it from work. It belongs with you, rather than in storage.”
“From work?” I echo.
He watches my fingers on the box, waiting for my reaction. When I open it, a silver necklace shines up at me.
“This is lovely,” I say, holding it to the sunlight. A small, impeccably polished silver locket hangs from the chain. “Thank you.”
He chuckles. “It is, but I don’t get any credit for that. This necklace comes with a great story.”
I settle in with anticipation and take a sip of coffee. The necklace lies on the table between us.
“You have my attention.” I wink. “And don’t say that you know that already.”
“Okay, I won’t. But I do.” This time when he smiles, I notice one of his canine teeth is just the tiniest bit crooked. Why does that appeal so much to me?
