Being an American girl who understood democracy and sharing, I took the stairs. When I reached the short hall to the dining room, Bartoz lounged against the wall smoking. Did he serve as some kind of bodyguard, suitable to protect the count and his family, but not to join them for meals? I gave him a perky wave as I passed.
A waiter had scarcely pulled out my chair when Eulahbelle hustled over.
“It’s no fun eating alone, honey. Come join Loren and me.”
She was too good an information source to offend. It soon became apparent, though, that her purpose wasn’t only hospitality, but matchmaking.
“Has her own car, knows how to entertain herself — you don’t find many girls like that,” she bragged when her son thanked me for taking her to the museum.
The choreographer looked uncomfortable. He was lean, with a startling amount of muscle. His face was too long to be handsome, but lines at his eyes and mouth suggested humor.
“You have a boyfriend?” Eulahbelle asked with unvarnished directness.
Her son sent me an apologetic look.
“Uh, yes,” I lied as emptiness filled me.
Time for me to take control.
“I know you can’t tell me anything about the picture you’re working on, but I sure hope Miss Shields and that fellow she’s with aren’t supposed to be the lovebirds in it.” I nodded toward Lena and Nick at a cozy table for two. “They had such a row in the lobby Friday, I thought they were going to hit each other.”
Loren Avery snorted softly. His mother gave her distinctive chuckle.
“Neither of them has anything to do with Archie’s picture. Acting, either.”
“Oh. I just thought since they were staying here too, and everyone seemed to know them....”
“From over there.” Eulahbell waved vaguely, indicating Europe, I assumed.
“Americans abroad — theater people and writers and such at least — tend to wind up at the same parties,” Loren clarified. “They stay at the same hotel sometimes, or cross on the same ship. I have to admit I couldn’t believe it when Nick and Lena showed up here the day after we did.”
“Like two bad pennies,” Eulahbell muttered.
“Now, Mother. If it hadn’t been for Nick, we wouldn’t have found out about—” Looking sheepish, he tried to cover his near flub. “We wouldn’t have found out what a nice place this is for rehearsing.”
Why had Eulahbelle used the term ‘bad pennies’? Right now, I wanted to nudge her son some more while he was off balance.
“Gee, I didn’t think you had to rehearse a lot for a movie like you do a play,” I said innocently.
“Uh, no. Not usually. But this one has some dancing—”
“Lots of dancing.”
“Mother.” It was the first time he’d spoken sharply. “One of the actresses has never danced, and another hasn’t for a long time. That’s why we’re here. So... I can work with them.”
His gaze slipped with the lie, and Bingo, I knew exactly why they were in Dayton: the Schwarz sisters. Hermene and Josephine Schwarz had become quite famous for their ballet school. They’d studied in Chicago, and one of them had performed in New York and Europe. The actresses were here for private coaching.
“Nick visits some elderly relative here,” Loren was saying. “Grandmother or aunt. He overheard Archie trying to recruit me in our hotel in London and came around later to say he knew a spot that had what we needed. Easy to get to but not someplace where we’d have to duck photographers, and even with a good rehearsal space.... Look, please don’t mention any of this.”
I crossed my heart. The part about the movie wasn’t important. Nick’s hand in getting them here was interesting though.
“Well. I just hope he and his girlfriend don’t have many fights like that one the other day,” I said. “When I was unlocking my door this morning, I saw the two of them coming out of their rooms—”
“You’re on our floor?” Eulahbelle winked reassurance. “It’s quiet as can be. If some fool didn’t keep opening the window and waking me up with the cold—”
“Mother, nobody opens the hall window.”
“I saw it with my own eyes.”
“When?”
“Last time I told you about it.”
“You’d taken two of those pills for your back. They knock you out.”
“They did — until I woke up shivering.” She glanced over, enlisting my belief in her claim. “I went out to close it, and there was that man of the count’s leaning out with his arms on the sill and a cigarette dangling out of his mouth. I asked could he please close the window and he nodded and went back to smoking. I don’t think he understands English.”
His English was excellent. I’d heard it. I wondered what night she was talking about.
“If they’re not actors, what do they do?” I asked. “Miss Shields and Mr. — ”
“Perry. Nick Perry.” Loren sounded relieved at the change of subject. “I think Lena inherited money.”
“Not a lot though. Her old man lost in the Crash. Some of what she lives on comes from writing filthy novels.”
“Mother!”
“Well, it’s true, honey. Published in Europe but banned over here. I tried one. You know some of the stuff I’ve read, but tying each other up and three in a bed? No thanks.”
Conversation through the rest of the meal was light and enjoyable. From time to time I observed Nick and Lena, who showed no inclination to lean toward each other or touch like two people attracted to each other. I also took note of the count and his family. They sat together like strangers, him ramrod straight, the two women looking nervous and ill at ease. The girl chewed her nails.
Our waiter had just served meringues filled with ice cream and strawberries when a trickle of muted sound through the room announced the arrival of someone important. Looking up I saw Archie Clarke wending his way past tables. On his arm was a nondescript woman enhanced by money. Her chestnut hair swept to one side. Her dress with its narrow two-tier skirt and shoulder capelet, screamed Paris designer. Even with those touches, her only average face and figure might not have won a second look save for the pear shaped diamonds glittering at her ears and neck.
“Wow, those are sure some sparklers,” I said. My whole body flinched at the thought of them in the hotel safe.
I watched in fascination as the Clarkes settled in at their table and people began to pay homage. A pair of young men hurried over to chat.
“That’s Dan and Dave. They dance with the girls,” whispered Eulahbelle.
One of the young men bent toward Lily Clarke’s hand as if he meant to kiss it. Lily was lapping it up. Veronica sauntered over and said a few words. Even Lena Shields went to greet her, and appeared to be in full charm mode. Maybe, since she was a writer, she hoped to hitch her star to the Hollywood crowd.
My sense of uneasiness over Lily’s jewels, and Tucker’s safe, sharpened.