Phoe stared down at the strips of bacon on her plate. Her stomach rolled over and she pushed it aside. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and the cheery chirruping of Eleanor was almost more than she could stand this morning. She, Cage, and Sigerson had been up to the wee hours of the morning looking through the holo file that Sigerson had managed to swipe from Tuggingham’s staff. All three of them were convinced that the identity of the Ripper killer was contained within those pages of clues, but there was something missing—something so obvious, yet it continued to elude them. Consequently, Phoe had spent most of the night tossing and turning in bed. Not even the beauty of their garden breakfast under the bougainvillea could lift her spirit this morning.
“So, did you like the part when Agnes karate-chopped the Duke?” Eleanor asked.
“That was fantastic. The whole book is. You should be proud.” Phoe poured herself another cup of coffee, emptying the pot.
Eleanor stared at her strangely. “Phoebe, dear. Are you all right? That’s your third cup of coffee since we’ve been sitting here. And I know you probably aren’t fully recovered from your fall.”
“Of course. I guess I’m a little tired.” She tried to smile but ended up yawning instead.
“Oooh. Were you and Mr. St. John up a bit late honeymooning?”
Phoe chuckled, shaking her head. “Not at all. We were up late though. Sigerson came over with news about the murders.”
“Do tell.” Eleanor tossed her napkin aside and leaned in. “Any suspects?”
“Not really. Shercroft managed to get into the case files, but it seems to have posed more questions than it answered.”
“That’s usually how it happens,” Eleanor said with a sigh. “Did he find out anything?”
“A possible connection between the victims. Seems they all had some kind of biomech.”
Eleanor scoffed. “Doesn’t everyone these days? I mean, how many guests in the colony right now have those mindjacks?”
“Mindjack?”
“You know. Those port things. You have one, don’t you?”
Phoe nodded. “Yes,” she answered, absently rubbing the small port on the back of her neck. “I didn’t know they were called mindjacks.”
“Anyway, almost everyone has some kind of alteration at this point. You can get a mindjack as easily as piercing your ears. You probably noticed that there was a kiosk in the spaceport that would do it for you. I thought about getting one, but the thought of having someone jack into your spinal cord is a bit unnerving, don’t you think?”
Phoe thought back to Sugoi. She’d been terrified at the prospect of having someone take control of your mind, and these tourists in Absinthia were paying for it. As far as Phoe could tell, the cards that her fellow guests were using were not nearly so invasive as Eve and her mind controlling neo-geisha programs. It was still enough to make Phoe’s skin crawl thinking about it. “To each his own, I suppose,” she answered.
“Anyway, I thought the police had a suspect in custody. That man from the opera, Wittrock.”
“Shercroft is pretty certain Jasper Wittrock isn’t the killer. He didn’t have time or a viable motive. When Tuggingham interviewed him, all he kept wailing was that he loved Arabella.”
Eleanor chuckled mirthlessly. “Agnes Shrewsbury has solved many a crime of passion. Love can be a powerful motivator.” She picked up her coffee cup and sipped slowly, staring past Phoe as if deliberately avoiding her eyes.
“Are you okay, El?” Phoe asked.
“Of course, dear,” she replied, but Phoe didn’t quite believe it. They had been in Absinthia for more than a week now, and in that time Phoe had never seen her new friend when she wasn’t smiling. “I suppose I’m worried about these murders.”
“Oh, I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Phoe said. “You’re hardly wandering the streets at night.”
“You know, Alfie and I started coming to Absinthia on the opening weekend.”
“Really?”
Eleanor nodded. “I’ve always loved the Victorian Era, as you can tell from my books. This place seemed like a paradise. Perhaps I’m a little sad to see that innocence gone.”
Phoe nodded. “I guess it was only a matter of time before the problems of Earth came to the colonies.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Eleanor agreed. “For me Absinthia has been the ultimate escape. A place to forget who you are. And your regrets.”
Phoe got the distinct impression that there was something Eleanor wanted to confide. “Are you sure everything is okay?”
Eleanor dabbed at her mouth with a napkin and pushed her plate aside. “I didn’t want to say anything. I mean you’re here on your honeymoon. Why should you be interested in my piddling problems?”
Phoe reached out and clasped Eleanor’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Of course I’m interested.” She was sincere. In their short time together, Phoe had grown close to Eleanor. She reminded her so much of Miss Eva. If there was anything she could do to help her friend, Phoe was willing. “What’s going on?”
“Alfie and I had a disagreement this morning. He mentioned that he thought it might be a good idea for us to cash in our travel vouchers and cut our vacation short. I explained that I wasn’t finished with my book yet and didn’t want to leave. He flew into a temper and accused me of never being sensitive to his needs, and only thinking of myself. I tried to diffuse the argument. I offered a compromise, but he wouldn’t budge.”
“Did he give any indication of what prompted him to want to leave?”
Eleanor shrugged, clearly confused by her husband’s reaction. “He said that the colony has become unsafe, and that he isn’t interested in playing Agatha Christie anymore.” Eleanor took another sip of her tea, and when she looked up, Phoe could see the tears glistening in the corners of her eyes.
“I’m sure it will be all right, El. Couples argue. I’m sure he’ll come around.”
“I’m not so sure, Phoebe. The truth is, the whole reason we’re on holiday…” Eleanor’s emotions overcame her and she burst into tears. “Oh, Phoe, I’m losing him.”
Phoebe stood up and went around the table to embrace her friend. Mrs. Brown looked up from her breakfast and started to stand, but Phoe mouthed, “She’s all right.”
“El, don’t cry. Everything is going to be fine.”
“This is our last chance, Phoebe. This trip was going to make or break our marriage.”
Phoe looked around. The other guests were starting to stare. “Come on. Let’s go inside so we can talk about this.”
Eleanor nodded and allowed Phoe to lead her from the patio and into the parlor, away from prying eyes. “I’m so sorry, Phoebe,” Eleanor sniffled. “I didn’t mean to dump my problems on you and ruin our lovely breakfast.”
“No worries,” Phoe said, closing the door to the parlor. “Why don’t you tell me what this is all about?”
Eleanor took a deep breath, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “It all started last summer. It’s true that Alfie and I have been married some time, so it’s been a while since we were lovers frolicking in the fountain of romance, but we’ve always been friends. But since last summer, we’ve been like strangers.”
“What happened last summer?”
Eleanor paused. Silent tears rolled over her cheeks and this time she made no move to stop them. Phoe could tell that whatever her friend was about to confess, it was a painful and dark secret that she’d been keeping locked away for so long that it had begun to fester. “We lost our son, Thomas.”
“Oh, El. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t, dear,” Eleanor said, patting Phoe’s hand and offering a sad smile. “Alfie and I kept it to ourselves. Not even my publisher knew why I kept making up excuses and pushing back deadlines. Thomas was born with a heart defect. Really, it was a miracle he lived as long as he did. Over the years, we accepted that we were living on borrowed time with him and tried to make the best of it.
Alfie went to work at a biomechanics lab for the Interplanetary Union. It was the first time we had real hope. He was convinced that he could fix Thomas’s heart. It became this all-consuming obsession for him, but unfortunately, our son died before the technology could catch up.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Eleanor nodded. “Thank you. We were devastated, as you can imagine. Alfie was so depressed. He eventually quit the IU and went to work at the university. Things were bad for a while, but then last summer, I thought things were starting to look up for us. It was like I had my husband back. He came back to life, and I thought we were going to be able to move on. Not forgetting Thomas, of course, but getting on with our lives.”
“Of course.”
“I started writing again. Alfie was enjoying teaching. That was when we first began coming to Absinthia. But I don’t know, something changed. And last night—oh, I can’t even say it.”
“What?” Phoe could feel that familiar tingle that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
“I think there’s someone else,” she spat, finally giving in and sobbing profusely into her hands.
Phoe put an arm around her friend and tried to soothe her. “There now, El. What makes you think there’s someone else? Alfie doesn’t seem the type to sneak around with other women behind your back.”
“He never has been before,” she sniffled. “But last night, I found a calling card torn up in the pocket of his trousers when they came back from the laundry.” Eleanor went into the pockets of her skirts and fished out a paper fragment. “See?”
Phoe examined the scrap of paper. It was an ivory parchment of heavy stock. The name of the place had been obscured by the tearing, but Phoe could make out a D and a wide, lashed eye that could only be a caricature of a woman’s face. “Is this all you found?”
“There were a couple of other pieces, but they’d been so torn up by Miss Abecrombie’s machine, that even if I’d been able to put them together I couldn’t make out the name.”
Phoe didn’t want to laugh, but she thought Eleanor was probably making a mountain out of a molehill. “You have no idea what this is, El. It could be anything.”
“It certainly looks like some kind of…” Eleanor looked around and leaned in to whisper. “Like some kind of gentlemen’s club. There are so many in Absinthia, you know.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean that Alfie is frequenting those places.”
“It doesn’t mean he isn’t,” Eleanor huffed. “Oh, Phoebe.” She sighed, getting up and starting to pace. “That isn’t all. But it was the last straw. Alfie is like a completely different person. He’s out all night. He drinks more than he should. He never talks to me anymore. And we haven’t, you know, in months. And we’re not spring chickens. I know that, but it doesn’t mean our relationship is over. And there are nights, I swear he smells like ladies’ perfume. I don’t know what to do.”
“I know exactly what you’re going to do,” Phoe said, taking Eleanor’s hands. “You’re going to come shopping with me this afternoon and we’re going to buy the most extravagant ball gowns this colony has ever seen.”
“We are?”
Phoe nodded. “The Governor’s Masquerade Ball is on Friday. We’re going to find you a gown so scrumptious that Alfie won’t possibly be able to refuse you.”
Eleanor smirked. “You don’t know Alfie very well.”
“I know he’s a man,” Phoe argued. “Besides, nothing cures a case of uncontrollable weeping like spending money.”