MR. CLARKE WAS STILL at the box office when we got to the theater. “Good evening. There isn’t a... Milly! How are you? Learned anything interesting since the last time we saw each other? It seems like ages ago.”
“It was barely two hours,” I pointed out before Milly could go into raptures about seeing him again.
“Miss Pengear, hello. I didn’t see you there.”
As I was standing right next to Milly, I doubted that.
But that was enough to shake Milly out of her distraction and back onto the case. “Are the actors still here?” Milly asked.
“They’re still rehearsing, but I think they’re due a dinner break soon if you wanted to wait.”
“We do,” I said and grabbed Milly’s arm. “We can show ourselves back. I wouldn’t want you to desert your post.”
Milly waved as I led her through the lobby.
When we got to the hallway leading to the dressing rooms, we could hear that the cast was still on the stage. After a couple of minutes debate, we agreed it would be best to wait near Mrs. Bowen’s dressing room so we wouldn’t be distracted by anyone else coming from the rehearsal.
It wasn’t a long wait. I hadn’t even had time to get annoyed with Milly when we heard Mrs. Bowen chatting to Miss Finch as they were coming down the hallway. Mrs. Bowen spotted us first. “Hello, ladies. Did you have something else you needed to discuss?”
She probably thought we were there to discuss the blackmail, and since she’d already convinced us of her story once, she probably thought it would be easy to do so again. “Could we discuss it in your dressing room?” I asked.
“I’ll get out of your way,” Miss Finch said and strode down the hallway to her dressing room, making me wonder if she suspected something.
Mrs. Bowen opened the door to her dressing room and gestured for us to go inside. “I was going to go to the pub with a few of the others to get something to eat. Would you rather...”
I cut her off. “We won’t take long, then. We were making a timeline of what happened the night of the masquerade, and we just wanted to clear up a couple of details.”
“Anything I can do to help.”
Mrs. Bowen seemed so sure we had believed her, I decided the best way to get an answer was to shock it out of her. “We were wondering why you lied about seeing the body when you went into the office.”
“I didn’t...”
This time Milly cut her off. “Of course you did. Why else would you have snuck away from the office when you didn’t bother to hide that you were going in?”
When Mrs. Bowen didn’t answer, I added, “We’re going to tell Inspector Burrows no matter what. If there’s anything that will make it sound better for you, now’s the time to tell us.”
Mrs. Bowen looked back and forth between us, weighing her options. After a few moments of thinking, she made her decision. “Fine. I did see him. When I went into the office, there he was.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked.
“Because I thought it was a threat. A warning. I knew I was taking a risk going to a blackmailer, but it was one I was willing to take. When I saw Mr. Craddock there, I thought it was the blackmailer’s way of telling me he could—I don’t know—frame me for the murder? Kill me like that? Something terrible at least. So I got out of there.”
“And the mask? Why did you put it on the body?”
“I didn’t. I had it with me, but when I saw the body... I don’t honestly know what I did with it. I think I left it in the office, but I was in such shock, I just knew I had to get out of there. So I turned my cloak, just like I’d planned, so no one would notice me. I shouldn’t have told you that. That’s how you knew, isn’t it? Then I got out of there. It wasn’t until later I realized I didn’t know what had happened to the plague mask. I went back and had a look, but I didn’t see it on the landing, so assumed I’d left it in the office and slipped back down to the party through the private staircase by the boxes. It didn’t really seem to matter. Nathan was the only one who knew I had it, and there wasn’t anything about it to connect me to it. When you asked, I said I left it in there. That’s what I told the police too. I think I left it there, or dropped it, more accurately.”
“Did you know it was Mr. Craddock when you saw him?” I asked.
Mrs. Bowen nodded. “I could see his face under the cloak, enough of it that I could see it was him.”
“What did you think happened?” Milly asked.
Mrs. Bowen toyed with the make-up brushes on her vanity. “I don’t know. I don’t think I thought that clearly. I suppose I thought he’d startled whoever the blackmailer was and the blackmailer killed him. I’m not sure if I really thought it was a warning directed at me in the moment or if that was later. But I was definitely scared.”
As Mrs. Bowen told the story, I noticed something off about it. Something I hadn’t noticed before. “How was the blackmailer going to get into the office?”
Mrs. Bowen stopped fiddling with the make-up brushes. “I was going to unlock the door and let him in. But if he’d already been there to kill Mr. Craddock, that couldn’t be it, could it?”
I shook my head.
“Someone might have left the door unlocked,” Milly said.
Mrs. Bowen nodded. “That would explain it.”
I didn’t argue. But I was going to point out to Inspector Burrows that it made no sense for the blackmailer to try the door before the appointed time if he believed it was locked.
“So you’ll be telling Inspector Burrows all of this?”
“We will. But you should still tell him yourself. It will look better if you do.” I could tell Mrs. Bowen wanted to rid of us, so I made it easy for her. “We don’t want to take up all of your dinner break. Thank you for telling us the truth.”
Milly took the hint for once and followed me out of the dressing room.
Milly didn’t say anything until we were back on the street and looking for a cab. “Did you think of the same thing I did when she said she left the mask behind?”
I nodded. “Either the killer went back and put it on the body, or someone else found it and put it there. But why? Why go into the office at all after the murder?”
“Maybe the gems were a message? And they went into the office to leave it?” Milly offered. “Or maybe Mr. Craddock was the blackmailer, and the gems could have been something he was using to blackmail someone, and the killer hid them in the mask after they killed him and went back.”
I was going to ask how that was possible, but then I remembered the rest of what Mrs. Bowen had said. “What if she didn’t leave the mask in the office but dropped it somewhere else, like in the hall?”
Milly nodded, ready to agree to and expand on the new idea at once. “And if someone at the party saw her leave the office in a hurry and drop it, they might have guessed she was doing something in there that would distract from whatever they were doing when they killed Mr. Craddock, or even a way to frame her for it.”
“But why draw attention to it with the gems?”
“Not thinking?” Milly suggested, which was our answer for anything foolish done by suspects.
“It’s as good an answer as any, I suppose.” Besides, there was something more important to think about. “If the body was already there when Mrs. Bowen left the office, that changes the time of death.”
Milly nodded enthusiastically. “We need to know who went in there before she did. They might have seen the body, or even been the killer.”
“And it means I didn’t see the killer, not if I saw Mrs. Bowen going into the office.”
“But you must have. He went back and put the mask on the body sometime between you seeing Mrs. Bowen in her cloak and Mr. Bowen falling down the stairs.”
“But I didn’t see anyone.”
“You must have,” Milly insisted. “Just think harder. And we need to know when Mrs. Landon was last in there.”
“If she was being truthful when we found the body and she really hadn’t seen it before,” I pointed out. I wasn’t willing to trust anyone at the moment, particularly after Mrs. Bowen had lied to us.
“She’s not an actress,” Milly reminded me. “I think we can trust her reactions.”
“At least until we learn otherwise,” I conceded. “And we should see if anyone saw anyone else go into the office.”
“Ryan was supposed to meet me up there. He might have seen something. Why don’t you get the cab on your own and I’ll go back inside and see if he’s still at the box office?” Milly didn’t wait for me to answer but went back in. I abandoned the idea of a cab and went to find the Underground station.
~ * ~ * ~
I stopped on my way home for a bit of something from the shop on the corner of Paddington Street so I wouldn’t have to wonder what I’d have for dinner, then went up to my flat. I’d barely gotten settled in when the message tube chimed. Some cases caused me to dread hearing the message tube more than others. This was one of those. I got up to see who was calling. The message tube held an elegant calling card that said Samuel Norwood, which, as I’d never heard of Samuel Norwood, was not particularly helpful. I assumed he had something to do with the case, so I went downstairs to see what he wanted.
The gentleman I found on the doorstep seemed vaguely familiar. Since I didn’t recognize him or his name, I assumed he was someone I had met at the theater, probably at the party. When I opened the door, he turned his full attention on me but didn’t try to come in before he was invited. “Miss Pengear, I presume?”
I nodded.
“I am sorry to call on you like this, but Miss Prynne was so kind when we were all talking about the tragedy over drinks, and she said you wouldn’t mind if I thought of anything important. And poor Mr. Craddock. I’d hate to think there was something I didn’t do to help... So when I found the card Miss Prynne gave me in my pocket, I thought I probably ought to tell someone the whole thing.”
Mr. Norwood held out a crumpled card. I looked down at it and saw it was another of mine, which led me to wonder just how many of them Milly had, and where was she storing them, and how freely she was handing them out. Still, he was here, so I had to do something with him. “Would you like some tea?”
“That would be most kind.”
I led him upstairs.
While I got the tea things arranged—Milly had left the last of the scones behind in her hurry to get back to the theater so I had something to offer him—Mr. Norwood divested himself of his hat and coat and the truly impressive number of scarves he’d managed to fit under the coat. As I watched him arrange his scarves on the coat rack, I realized where I had seen him before. “You were Orpheus at the theater masquerade.”
“Very astute of you. How did... The scarves, right? My wife thinks they’re an affectation, but I really do need to protect my throat. Opera is a demanding mistress.”
So the scarves were to protect his voice. I wondered if his wife was right and it was at least partly an affectation, not that it particularly mattered.
“And as I was supposed to perform that night... I suppose poor Mr. Craddock is the reason the singing was canceled? Mrs. Landon didn’t explain when she told me. I was worried I might have done something to offend her, but then I heard about poor Mr. Craddock.”
Once Mr. Norwood had gotten his scarves sorted out and we were settled in at the table with tea in front of us, I decided it was past time to steer him to the point of the visit. “You said you had something about the case you wanted to discuss with me?”
Mr. Norwood stared at his teacup. “This is not the easiest thing to explain. If it wasn’t a murder... But of course, we all wish it wasn’t. I must start by explaining I love my wife very much. You must understand that.”
Which of course meant he’d done something to upset her.
“But the performance of opera is very intense, at least for me. And the rehearsals and the content of the songs and, well everything. I tend to forge very strong connections with my leading ladies. And of course, they have been known to turn romantic. Being an actress herself, my wife is very understanding, and we have reached an agreement where I will not perform if she is not in town for some reason. Then she can remind me of my tendencies, and going home to her is usually enough to snap me out of the fantasy that is the stage.”
I nodded for him to go on.
“Well, my wife had the opportunity to do a play in Brighton, a really good part for her. So of course, she went. I didn’t have anything scheduled, so she didn’t think she needed to worry. But then Sanford came down with a sore throat. And the company asked me to step into the role of Tristan. It was only a selection of scenes, and it was to raise money for the company, to get new sets and costumes for the upcoming season. And a special performance to benefit the St. Ormond Hospital. How could I turn that down? And it was a short run, only a week. What could possibly go wrong in a week?”
“Quite a bit, I assume.”
Mr. Norwood smiled. “Louisa LaTour may not be much to look at in her Isolde costume, but when she sings!” He managed to look sheepish. “I had the best of intentions, but...” He shrugged. “And you think I was an idiot. Well, I know I was an idiot. And no, my wife does not know. It was a short, stupid affair. I regretted it as soon as the opera’s run ended. And I vowed never to take another role without telling my wife about it. But that isn’t the point of all this, although I’m sure you can see why I didn’t want to go to the police. They’d ask questions, and they’d want to talk to her. But I think you can see that that isn’t necessary, right?”
I thought someone ought to tell his wife everything, and ideally it should be him, but that wasn’t going to get us anywhere. I steered us back to the murder before I said something that would stop him talking. “You said this had to do with Mr. Craddock’s murder? I take it he knew about the affair?”
“Yes, yes he did. If you’d known him, you wouldn’t even have to ask. He knew everything that went on in any theater he worked in. I don’t know how.”
“And then he threatened to tell your wife if you didn’t...” I waited for him to finish the sentence for me.
“But that’s the point, you see. He didn’t. Mr. Craddock knew all about the affair, but he never told her, and he never approached me for anything. It’s as if he liked knowing everything that was going on, but never did anything with the information. So this idea that his murder was over him blackmailing someone is simply absurd.”
Inspector Burrows had thought the blackmail angle didn’t sound right. “How did you know the police were looking into this as a blackmail attempt that turned tragic?”
“Nelson told me. He said the police had asked him about it. And of course, I didn’t want the police to know all about my little affair and ask my wife about it, but I didn’t want them besmirching Mr. Craddock’s good name either. Then I remembered Miss Prynne and how kind she was, and I thought you might be able to steer the police in a more profitable direction. They won’t solve it as long as they think Mr. Craddock was a blackmailer.”
So why would Mr. Nelson have brought up blackmail? The theater gossip had been excellent so far, but Inspector Burrows was also good at keeping things quiet. Unless Milly... It was something else to tell Inspector Burrows.
“So do you think you can nudge them in the right direction? Preferably without telling them about my unfortunate lapse in judgment?”
“I’ll tell him I was told Mr. Craddock definitely did not try to profit off of what he knew about people.” And I couldn’t resist adding, “But you really should tell your wife what you did and apologize for it.”
“I knew you would say that. It’s what everyone tells me, for different reasons. Usually so I don’t have to worry about someone else telling her. But I did want to be certain the police weren’t looking in the wrong place.” I was not surprised when he decided our conversation was over and got up from the table. “Thank you for the tea, but I need to get to rehearsal.”
I doubted there was a rehearsal and he merely wanted to stop talking about telling his wife, but I was glad he’d brought me the information. “Thank you for making sure we know the blackmail theory is probably wrong. It will let Inspector Burrows look for something else.”
“I’m glad I could help.” Mr. Norwood began the process of re-wrapping himself in the scarves. Once he’d gotten himself wrapped up and his coat on, I led him back downstairs. I waited until he’d left and I could see him turn the corning onto Baker Street using the very useful mirrors Kate had affixed to the front of our building, then went back upstairs. I wasn’t sure how this information helped, but it was the sort of thing Inspector Burrows would want to hear about.
Back in my flat, I wrote up as detailed a summary of Mr. Norwood’s visit as I could for Inspector Burrows then decided the simplest thing to do would be to make another copy of it to send to Milly. Once I’d typed up the copy, I realized they were too long to send by mechanical bird, so I addressed envelopes and got my hat and coat to go to Marylebone Road and find a messenger willing to take a message to Scotland Yard—that would be trickier than finding someone willing to go to Milly’s—then to replenish the scones that had been consumed getting the information. And perhaps a bit of cake as a reward for getting it.