When we rejoined the others in the ballroom, I was surprised to find that the band, just like the one on board the Titanic, played on. Not rollicking dance numbers, but something soft and melancholy yet not quite funereal. They seemed to be playing more for themselves than for the others gathered in the room, but that only made it that much more moving to me.
"Where did you leave Mary?" I asked, rising up on tiptoe to try to see over the crowd. Impossible with all of the top hats.
"Leave her?" Brianna asked.
"Weren't you with her when Otto found you?" I asked.
"No," she said. I turned to look at her, as did Sophie. Brianna flinched back from that much direct gaze, immediately looking down at the toes of her shoes. "I followed her out of the hall. She ran across the ballroom, and I ran after, but I lost her in those back halls."
"They aren't all that confusing," Sophie said.
"She was probably going to the parlor," I said.
"No," Brianna said. "That was the one room with open doors, so I found it right away, but she wasn't there."
"So where did she go?" Sophie asked.
"Where is she now?" I asked. We all looked around. With her brown hair and sedate dress, she wouldn't exactly jump out of the background. But even a careful search didn't turn her up.
I did see Otto speaking to a balding man in a tuxedo that had probably fit him better a few years before. Otto saw me looking his way and gave me a little nod but kept his attention on what the man was saying to him.
"Mary was upset about the announcement," I said. "And she knows this house well. She and Ivy have been friends forever. There must be all sorts of places a girl can hide to have a cry and no one can find her."
"If she hid before Ivy fell…" Sophie began but didn't finish her thought.
"Surely she heard the commotion," Brianna said.
"We really should find her," I said.
"There must be back stairs like we have at the charm school," Brianna said. "Servant stairs even."
"Let's just try the main stair first," Sophie said, adjusting her skirt and then her hair. Not that either needed any attention.
"The police chief did seem to have a soft spot for Mary," I said. "And he did ask us specifically to see to her."
Brianna nodded her agreement with the plan, and the three of us slipped through the clustered groups of shocked partygoers to the double doors that still stood open out onto the hall. Two police officers were standing, one on either side of the door. The younger of the two with thick blond hair that had resisted his efforts at combing it back was unfamiliar to me, but the slightly older one with red hair just beginning to recede from the sides of his forehead was either McConnell or Ricci.
I opened my mouth to speak, but Sophie brushed past me, putting a hand on the red-headed officer's arm. Just a few fingertips barely brushing his sleeve, but she had his attention at once.
"Officer McConnell?" she asked.
"Yes?" he said.
"We can't find Mary in the ballroom or the parlor. We think she's still upstairs. Alone. Distraught. Can you just let us up the stairs to look for her?" Sophie asked.
"We'll walk around the sides of the room," I said. I wasn't sure what the protocol was for crime scenes in 1927 except for certainly far less stringent than 2018.
McConnell gave us a studious frown as he mulled it over. The other officer was watching him closely to see what he decided.
"Where exactly are you going to look for her?" he asked.
"Ivy's bedroom," I said. As if we even knew where that was.
"We're terribly worried that she doesn't even know what happened to Ivy," Sophie said. "No one has seen her since before the fall."
"Truly?" McConnell asked us. We all nodded gravely.
He was just stepping aside to let us out of the ballroom when a door across the hall slammed, and the staccato beat of boot heels echoed through the space. McConnell quickly thrust his arm out to stop Sophie from brushing past him before looking over his shoulder at the approaching officer. It was Stuart.
"What's going on here?" He asked as he stopped in front of McConnell.
"They need to go upstairs to find Mary Taylor. She's not on the first floor," McConnell said.
"No need," Stuart said. "She's in the library." He gave Sophie an appraising look. Then his gaze skipped quickly over Brianna to linger on me. "Didn't you say she was with you?"
"No," I said. "We haven't been able to find her."
"Yes, you did," he said, thrusting his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. "When the chief asked you where you were when Ivy fell, you said you were against that wall with Mary Taylor."
"I was," I said. "Mary was there with me, but she left just before Ivy fell."
"Huh," Stuart said, still rocking back and forth on his feet. I didn't like the triumphant look in his eye, like he'd caught me in a lie. "So now it's Mary you're looking for upstairs. Just a few minutes ago you desperately needed to get upstairs to find your friend Edward Scott. Maybe you should just tell me what it is you really need to get upstairs for."
"If we're your best suspects, your investigation really is in trouble," Sophie said. Stuart gave her a dark look that edged a little too close to a "why is this one talking to me" look for my taste. I felt my hands curling into fists.
But apparently I was doing more than that, things I wasn't aware of until Brianna seized my arm and gave it a fierce squeeze. I unfisted my hands, but it was also like some wind that had been blowing through my hair and billowing out the skirt of my gown died down at the same moment.
What had I been doing?
Brianna's green eyes were wide with alarm. I patted her hand still on my arm, the only way I could promise her to be more careful.
"Can we please just see to Mary?" I asked.
"No need," Stuart said. His voice sort of underlined those words, and I remembered he had said the same thing to McConnell just a moment before. "She's in the library."
"Where's the library?" Brianna asked breathlessly. She really couldn't help herself.
"Off limits," Stuart said firmly. "You should rejoin the others in the ballroom for now. Get some food. The kitchen is going to be bringing out coffee in a moment to sober you all up."
I scoffed. Minutes before he had been a partygoer himself, and I would bet he had drunk his fair share of the champagne.
Stuart glared at me for a moment before speaking again. "Just wait with the others. Witnesses will be called to give their statements in the library as the chief and the detectives require them. And I'm just sure your three names will come up."
"When they're done with Mary?" I prompted.
"She'll be sent out to join the others," Stuart said. "No one is going to be wandering this house until we get to the bottom of this."
"And Edward?" I asked.
"Is in custody," Stuart said firmly. "He's been questioned and will likely be questioned again. But he won't be joining the party."
"He's your chief suspect then?" Sophie asked, and didn't flinch when he pinned that dark gaze back on her.
"One of two," Stuart said.
"Thomas?" I guessed.
Now he was back to glaring at me. "The details of the investigation are not for public dissemination."
I opened my mouth to say something sarcastic about all of the details he had just disseminated to us when Brianna squeezed my arm again and I let it go.
Sophie gave him one last long look before turning on her heel, tossing her beaded bag over one shoulder, and strolling off toward the buffet table.
Brianna and I followed her, less impressively.
But when we caught up with her at the table, she was just standing over the display of food, hands making and releasing fists over and over again, her breath coming in angry jags.
"He was unspeakably rude to you," Brianna said.
"Nothing I haven't dealt with before," Sophie said through gritted teeth. She took a deep cleansing breath and untensed her whole body, then picked up a plate and started piling it with food as if this were the most relaxing party in the world.
"You're still hungry?" I asked.
Sophie shrugged. "We can all pick at it," she said, then thrust a shrimp cocktail into my hands.
"Should we go back to the parlor where we can talk freely?" Brianna asked.
"No, I want to look at people," Sophie said. "Besides, if we're not here when they call our names, they'll count that as a mark against us."
"We really shouldn't let them question us," I said. "Events of the party, fine. But if they start asking more questions about who we are and why we're here-"
"We lie," Sophie said with a shrug. Plate full, she looked around and found a little standing table no one was using. It was close to the band who were still softly playing a song that made me think of autumn leaves and long, cold nights. Sophie set her plate down, gave the band a little wave that they returned with nods, and then turned to wave Brianna and me closer.
"If we're letting the police solve this, which we should absolutely do, why are we staying?" Brianna asked.
"Especially if they're planning on questioning us, she might have a point," Sophie said, dipping a shrimp in the cocktail sauce.
"I'm not leaving until I know they aren't pinning this on Edward," I said.
"Maybe he is involved, though," Sophie said. She held up a hand at my furious glare. "I'm not saying he's a murderer. Clearly, we know he's not. Not coldblooded, anyway. But what if there was a scuffle? Two men grappling with each other could knock a woman of Ivy's size over the railing. Especially if she tried to intervene."
"I didn't hear a scuffle," I said.
"But it was loud at that moment," Sophie said. "Everyone was moving towards the ballroom, nearly trampling us as they went by. Talking, laughing, breaking glasses, apparently. Would we have heard it even if it had happened?"
"All right, say they did grapple with each other. Wouldn't we then have seen Edward at the top of the stairs and not just Thomas?" I asked.
"If that's what happened, it would be as much Thomas' fault as Edward's," Brianna said.
"I don't believe for a minute that's what happened," I said firmly. "Edward isn't a murderer. He also isn't a… scuffler. I don't see him doing it. I'm sure he had a lot of feelings about being thrown over for this other man, but I just don't see him acting on it in that way."
"You never really know what a person will do in extreme circumstances until you test them," Sophie said.
"And then it's too late," Brianna said.
I stepped away from the table. Not far, just a few steps, but I needed a moment to process.
Did they really not see Edward in the same eyes I did? Despite his upbringing, there wasn't a bit of roughness to his character. He wasn't a bit like… Otto, I guess.
When my brain is busy, my feet like to pace, and I started walking around the perimeter of the room, twisting my beaded bag between my hands. I caught snatches of conversation around me, but I was tuning the voices out until I started hearing Edward's name.
I slowed my steps, listening but keeping my head down, looking at the bag in my hands. I didn't want to attach faces to those voices. Not now, when I was this angry.
And it almost didn't matter who was speaking since they were all saying the same things. Came from a bad family. Came from no family. Pretended to be "one of us" but clearly never was. Rough manners. Rougher friends.
No one mentioned Thomas' name except in the sense that he was also a victim, having lost his betrothed.
No one had any real evidence, and yet every one of them had come to the same conclusion. Edward was guilty.
My route around the room brought me back to the table were Brianna and Sophie were still talking together in whispers. I came back to the table and slammed my bag down on the table.
"Everyone agrees with you, apparently," I said, crossing my arms. "Edward is guilty, and that is that."
"We didn't say that," Brianna said. "In an investigation, it's important to examine all the angles, even the painful ones."
"But we're not the ones investigating, are we?" I asked. "No, we agreed to let the police take this one. And here we are, standing on the sidelines while they botch it."
"Amanda," Sophie said, putting a hand on mine and giving it a squeeze. "These fine people waiting in this room with us are not the police. The police are in the library, questioning everyone and gathering the stories to compare. They're all over the rest of the house, gathering what clues they can. We have to let them do it."
"For now?" I asked.
Sophie gave me a grave nod. "For now. If they really do botch it…" She ended in a noncommittal shrug and popped another square of cheese in her mouth.
But with her other hand, she was tapping her beaded bag, on the table next to mine. Her bag, like mine and like Brianna's, was long and narrow to accommodate the one item we all three carried that the rest of the women in attendance didn't have.
Our wands.