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A TAXI HAD CARRIED them home last night from the bright lights of Soho to the not very bright lights of Bloomsbury.
Interrogating subjects hadn’t been of much use. All she’d learned was that Lionel had been hungover, Rollo had been studying in a library, and Bess had been working. Since Lionel had been by himself, he was the most likely murderer.
The problem was, he had no motive.
But then, none of them did.
Perhaps it was simply a matter of verifying alibis. Lionel had certainly acted hungover, though she couldn’t drag him to a doctor to verify the exact amount of alcohol he’d consumed then.
But perhaps it was also a matter of seeing if she could learn more about Mr. Tehrani. She tapped her fingers on the table.
“Come on, Archibald,” she said. “We’re going to eat and then go on a short walk.” She frowned. “And then you’ll have to watch the apartment. Museums are not for dogs.”
Soon she headed off to the museum alone. Music roared from Lionel’s and Rollo’s apartment. Evidently, Lionel did not always sleep late.
Though the sun wasn’t in full force, and anyone in Hollywood would have declared the day horrid, the gray sky was simply gray. There was no rain, and Cora could manage the slight unpleasantness of the wind.
The weather suited London. It certainly suited Bloomsbury. It made all the intellectual museums and libraries appear especially enticing. Cora would have thought spending the day wandering about the British Museum would be a most wonderful thing.
Not that she was going to visit the British Museum. No, she was going to visit the much smaller exhibit on Persia. She hadn’t spent sufficient time there yesterday. The painting of Mr. Tehrani had compelled her to leave hastily, when she should have been learning all about him.
After all, when she played the Gal Detective on screen, her character had always learned about the person to whom the crime took place. Those crimes had been nonviolent and had mostly involved stealing, but learning about the victim was always beneficial.
Miss Greensbody might think it odd if she asked too many questions about him in her apartment, but she would think it less odd if she asked questions inside the exhibit.
The Londoners hurried to their workplaces, their bus stops, and their tube stops. They strode briskly in gray flannel suits. The more adventurous of them wore brown.
She stepped inside the Persian Antiquities Exhibit at the Museum of Ancient Antiquities on Great Russell Street.
Miss Greensbody peered from a desk. “It’s you.”
“I didn’t finish the exhibit,” she said.
“No, you fled,” Miss Greensbody said bluntly.
Cora shifted her legs.
The plan had been for her to ask questions. The plan had not been for Miss Greensbody to berate her, and Cora fought to keep her expression pleasant, even though her lips threatened to descend into a frown.
“Do you think you can show me around?” Cora asked.
Miss Greensbody gave her a harsh stare, and Cora shifted her legs.
“I mean, naturally if you’re busy—” Cora said.
“I’m always busy,” Miss Greensbody said, straightening her spine.
“Right.” Cora nodded, but she was conscious the exhibit was almost empty. No doubt they hadn’t had the rush of tourists yet. This was still early morning, and the tourists would be in their bed and breakfasts, eating beans on toast and wishing they were on the continent, where the breakfasts were rumored to be better. Some of them might even be still asleep.
“So you’ve developed a sudden passion for Persian artifacts?” Miss Greensbody turned a page of an intimidating leather-bound book.
“Not Persian specifically,” Cora admitted. “And not artifacts specifically either.”
“I see,” Miss Greensbody said. “At least you’re not lying about that.”
Cora blinked. “Is there something wrong?”
“It seems you neglected to tell me the other day that Mr. Tehrani was the same man whom you professed to have found dead in your bedroom.”
Cora stiffened.
Had the police told Miss Greensbody that? Was she going to tell the police? Cora’s heartbeat quickened, and she forced herself to inhale deeply.
“You needn’t look so pale,” Miss Greensbody said. “This is a time for me to feel shocked, and not you.”
“Who told you?” Cora asked carefully. Perhaps Miss Greensbody had known all along, because she’d murdered the man.
“Bess,” Miss Greensbody said. “It seemed she finally had some news that exceeded even shopping in interest.”
“What a nice change for you.”
“Well, it would have been nicer to know Mr. Tehrani was murdered. We did correspond, and it is sad to know he passed away so prematurely.”
It was sad. Cora had forgotten that, and her cheeks warmed.
“It also would have been helpful to know he’d died. That is an excusable reason for him not to have returned the jewels. Truly, I could not have hoped for a better reason.”
“Oh.”
Miss Greensbody leaned closer to her. “I would hate for anyone to suspect I’d inadvertently intimidated him with my knowledge of his country.”
“Oh?”
Miss Greensbody gave a casual shrug. “I have been studying Persian culture with great intensity for years. I can be intimidating even when corresponding on something I have not studied for years.”
“I can imagine that,” Cora said.
Miss Greensbody might give every indication of preferring books to people, but she was quite capable of speaking to people. She did not seem overly timid.
“Though,” Cora said, “I imagine he also knew quite a lot about his country.”
Miss Greensbody shrugged. “Perhaps. It must have been an honor for him to have been able to come here to deliver them personally. It is a pity he failed in his task.”
“He didn’t mean to,” Cora said gently.
“No one means to fail.” Miss Greensbody narrowed her eyes. “With the possible exception of some American sports teams.”
“Have the police come here yet?”
“No,” Miss Greensbody said. “Which means there’s still some time to find those jewels.”
Cora blinked. “You want to look for them?”
“I consider it vital,” Miss Greensbody said. “My task was to procure the jewels. That doesn’t stop just because the man tasked to bring it is dead. The people of London, indeed the people of the world, deserve to see the jewels.”
“Splendid,” Cora said weakly.
She had intended to learn information on Mr. Tehrani, but she hadn’t intended to steal them.
“Do you know where he was staying?” Cora asked.
“The Savoy.”
Cora blinked.
“You needn’t look appalled. It is a very nice hotel.”
“I know,” Cora said. “I’ve been there.”
Pop was staying in that hotel. Of all the hotels in London, Mr. Tehrani had to have chosen that one.
Cora had hoped that even if the detective managed to trace the body to Pop, he wouldn’t be able to find any connection between Mr. Tehrani and Pop.
She could not cling to that hope anymore.
“I have his room number,” Miss Greensbody said, fiddling through some papers. “It’s Room 1128.”
“The police will be there,” Cora said, even though she hoped they would not have identified Mr. Tehrani yet.
“Oh.” Miss Greensbody’s shoulders drooped uncharacteristically.
“I can’t help you,” Cora said.
The last thing she wanted to do was to break into the victim’s room to help somebody who may have murdered the man.
Miss Greensbody sniffed. “No surprise.”
Cora wasn’t certain whether she should apologize more, but Miss Greensbody returned to her research book.