Chapter 44

“Looks like they went out through here,” Detective Doyle said, leaning out an open window in the back room of the office suite. “You’re going to have to keep these locked from now on, Mr. Wagner.”

Armand sat on the sofa in his office and nodded through the open doorway at the detective. Penelope sat next to him and felt the tremors that still rustled through his body from the shock of being dangled over the balcony.

“I might have been killed, you know,” he said to Doyle. “You must find out who is doing this to my theater. Who is out to hurt us?”

“We need your help to figure it out, Mr. Wagner,” Doyle said. “Did you recognize your assailant?”

“No,” Armand said. “I only caught a glimpse, to be honest. I was mainly focusing on not falling to my death.”

Doyle nodded. “I know. But is there anything that you can think of? Any distinguishing features?”

“All I know is one of the bums from down the street has taken aim at the Vitrine, for some reason probably known only to him. And he’s making our lives hell, through no fault of our own.”

“Okay,” Doyle said with a sigh. He looked through a few items on Armand’s desk then headed for the door. He turned at the last minute. “You, Miss Sutherland, I might need to put a protective detail on you.”

“No, you don’t. I am being careful. I was going to take the train home tonight but Arlena insists I take a car.”

“There was one odd thing, Detective,” Armand said suddenly. He stared off in space as if in a trance.

“What’s that?” Doyle said.

“The smell was missing,” Armand said.

“Excuse me? What smell?” Doyle pressed him.

“The odor, the decay smell, that comes from people living on the street,” Armand said with a shrug. “The person who pushed me smelled like…”

Doyle leaned forward, willing Armand to speak more quickly. “Like what?”

“Like roses,” Armand said simply. “Quite beautiful roses.”