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THE SUN HAD FULLY SET, and a dark blue sky rolled over them. Cora preferred it to the gray one which had been over her this evening, though perhaps anything she experienced in Randolph’s company was likely to be favorable.
Randolph seemed to have that effect on her.
He’d also seemed to have a disconcerting effect on Lionel, and Cora turned her head to her companion. “What did you say to Lionel?”
“Me?” Randolph adopted an innocent voice.
“He was a changed man when I came down.”
“I merely told him to apologize. He saw reason quickly.”
“Did you threaten him?”
“Nonsense,” Randolph said. “Though people do seem to see reason quickly in my presence.”
Cora smirked.
Randolph could be intimidating. It did not take an expert in athletics to determine that Randolph was strong. Though he always fit comfortably into his suits and did not possess the overly broad shoulders and broader biceps of a boxer, his movements indicated a powerful force.
He was handsome, all chiseled features and exquisitely tousled hair, and if he’d grown up in California, or even elsewhere, like Cora, perhaps he would have been practically forced into the film industry.
Randolph’s style wasn’t repeating lines someone else had written, though Cora had no doubt he could do so perfectly, and it certainly wasn’t to feign living another character’s life.
No, Randolph’s life was sufficiently interesting.
“I don’t want you to cause trouble with my landlady’s son,” Cora said.
“I was improving things,” Randolph said. “But you, sweetheart, have some explaining to do.”
Oh.
There was a distinct steeliness in Randolph’s voice.
“I assume you weren’t truly jesting about finding a body,” Randolph said.
Oh, dear.
She didn’t want to speak about this with him.
Speaking about this with him might make him worried. Speaking about this with him might make her worried.
It was far nicer to examine the buildings. Everything in London seemed lovelier in the night. Street lamps glowed, and the people outside no longer rushed, but instead strolled, taking in the sights.
“Cora...” Randolph interrupted her musings on the wonders of London parks, and she felt herself flush.
Thank goodness it’s dark.
“Please tell me you’re not in trouble,” Randolph said.
“I’m not in trouble.”
“Hmmm... That was not as satisfying to hear as I’d hoped,” Randolph said.
“No?” Cora gave an awkward laugh.
“I prefer it when you don’t lie to me,” Randolph said. “And I want more than lies to know you’re fine.”
“I suppose that’s sweet of you to say.”
“I’m not aiming for sweet,” Randolph said. “I care about you. Now are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Besides having that child for a landlord?”
“He’s hardly dreadful,” Cora said, pondering various boarding houses she’d lived in Hollywood which had been reigned over by stern looking women and inhabited by other actresses, many who seemed to deem attending parties vital to their careers and who came home at all hours of the night.
“Hmph,” Randolph muttered. “The important question is, did you truly find a body in your flat?”
“I did.”
There was a silence. “A dead body?”
“Yes.” Cora shifted her legs. “At least, I thought he was dead at the time. Veronica was also there. But when we called the constable and went downstairs to greet him, by the time we went back upstairs, the body was missing.”
“That is most odd.”
“So maybe we were wrong,” Cora said, trying to laugh. “Maybe he was just an intruder who was pretending to be dead. Or maybe he was ill and recovered.”
He was going to want to know everything.
“Why didn’t you tell me at once?”
“You’ve only just arrived,” Cora protested. “And the others didn’t believe me. Even the constable.”
“I will always believe you,” Randolph said, his tone shifting entirely from any lightheartedness.
Butterflies fluttered inside Cora.
Randolph took hold of her hand. “What exactly happened?”
So Cora told him.
She told him all about her excitement about moving into the flat. She’d dreamed of living in a quiet neighborhood, in a flat that would permit a pet, and in a location not too far from the livelier sections of the capital.
And then she told him about the man in her bed.
“So you never saw him before in your life?” Randolph asked.
“No,” Cora said.
“And no one in your building said they’d seen a man matching his description before?”
Cora frowned, conscious she hadn’t asked precisely that question before. “I suppose I should ask the neighbors about that.”
“No,” he said firmly. “You should not do that. You don’t know these people. They could be dangerous. It’s very likely one of the people inside killed him. Who was he going to see? What brought him here?”
“Perhaps they just brought his body here,” Cora said, but she was conscious of doubt sounding in her voice. She didn’t have to be trained by the British Government, like Randolph, to know criminals were unlikely to carry a dead body up multiple flights of stairs to rest it in an apartment. Her apartment had been empty, but a stranger to the building would not know that. Besides, someone had then moved the body.
No.
Someone in the apartment must know the identity of the victim.
If only the body hadn’t been moved.
“The police found a body a few blocks from here,” Cora said.
Randolph raised his eyebrows. “Most odd.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Cora said. “Veronica and I were in the stairwell after we left the body. No one could have gotten past us.”
“Were the other residents home?”
Cora nodded, then paused. “Well, not Bess. At least, I don’t think she was home. I saw her coming home from her work later.”
“Who’s Bess?”
“She’s my age. She mentioned she worked at the perfume counter at Harrods.” Cora smiled. “Perhaps one day I might work in a shop.”
Randolph snorted. “I’ve seen you in the pictures. You’re talented.”
“You sound like my father,” Cora said. “He’s in town, by the way.”
Randolph lifted his eyebrows. “You mean, I get to meet him?”
“You want to meet him?” Cora asked suspiciously.
“Naturally.” Randolph squeezed her hand.
“He’s singing at a club in Soho,” Cora said.
“Then let’s go there later this week,” Randolph said. “Tonight, you have to tell me more about your new home. I don’t like the idea of you staying in a dangerous place. You’re not alone in London, and you’re not without means.”
“You exaggerate my means. My parents invested what I was paid poorly. There’s nothing left.” Cora raised her chin. “Besides, I need to make a career on my own. I’m not going to be running to someone else to take care of me. I want to make a life here.”
“You’ve got gumption,” Randolph said. “But making a life for yourself in the big city does not entail putting yourself in unnecessary danger.”
“I’ll move if it becomes necessary.”
“See that you do,” Randolph said, his tone serious.
Cora swallowed hard. “Tell me about Great Aunt Maggie.”
They chatted further, laughing occasionally, and life seemed quite normal.