Death Wears a Mask (31 page)

“Would you show me the piece?” I asked. “Please?”

He hesitated before making his way behind the counter. He pulled out a small bundle. It looked to be something wrapped in a dirty handkerchief. Pulling back the corners to reveal the piece inside, he pushed it toward me on the counter.

My eyes widened in surprise. It appeared to be Mrs. Barrington's Eiffel Tower brooch.

I picked it up and studied it closely. Flipping it over, I saw what I was looking for: the date of the Barringtons' anniversary engraved beneath the clasp.

If this was in fact her brooch, however, what was the piece she had found in her trinket box only yesterday? One of them was a replica. But which? “Are these real diamonds?” I asked.

He drew himself up. “Of course they are. I don't sell worthless trinkets.”

“No, no. Of course not. I only wanted to be sure.”

“You can bring that to any jeweler in town, miss. He'll tell you.”

“That won't be necessary. This is exactly what I'm looking for,” I told him.

“I aim to please,” he replied with an expectant smile.

I hesitated. I felt suddenly that there was no way to get the information I wanted without revealing my true motives to Mr. Gibbs. Unfortunately, I was relatively certain that he would not be appreciative of my ploy. Well, there was nothing to be done about that now.

“May I be honest with you, Mr. Gibbs?”

He looked suddenly very wary, as though honesty was a commodity he did not often trade in. “If you like, Miss Mary.”

I plunged ahead before I could think better of it. “I'm afraid my name isn't Mary, and I'm not Mr. Ames's mistress. I'm his wife.”

He frowned.

I rushed ahead. “I am looking for this brooch because it was stolen from one of my friends.”

His face hardened suddenly, and as he crossed his arms over his chest, I knew I was on the verge of losing him. “I don't know anything about that.”

“No, I'm certain you don't. You see, it's all very complicated, but I need to know who it was that stole it. I assure you, none of it will come back on you or your associates. And Mr. Ames and I are still willing to compensate you handsomely for your trouble.”

This seemed to appease him a bit, for his scowl softened ever so slightly.

“It's something of a private matter, and I would be very grateful if you could help me.”

I hoped he would interpret “grateful” to mean generous.

“I didn't get any of the particulars about who sold it,” he told me at last. “Perhaps I could find out…” The rest of the sentence was heavily implied: for a price.

I thought about this for a moment and came to a decision. “Can you telephone your friend and find out? I need a description of the person who sold it. As detailed as possible.”

He appeared to consider.

“There will be a reward in it for both you and your associate,” I assured him.

“I suppose I could find out,” he said grudgingly. “A description is all you're wanting?”

“Well, dates would be quite helpful as well. But the most important thing is to find out who it was that sold it. And I need to know tonight, if at all possible.”

“It may take me a while to locate my associate.”

I suspected a rundown of nearby pubs would be in order. I glanced at the clock. The ball was getting ready to begin, and I didn't want to be late. I reached into my handbag and took out several bills. “This is a down payment on the information, Mr. Gibbs,” I said, pressing it into his hand. “The sooner you can find out, the more there will be in it for you. When you have the information, call the number on the card Mr. Ames gave you, the number you used today. Leave a message with my maid, Winnelda, and I'll call her later to find out what you've learned.”

“Very good, Mrs. Ames. I'll find out as quickly as I can and let you know.”

He seemed much more amiable now that I had greased his palms, if that was indeed the correct expression.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Gibbs. You've been ever so helpful.” I felt suddenly elated by the promise of success. With any luck, we would have a description of the killer before the night was out.

“His wife, you say?” he said, giving me a thorough going over with his eyes. “I guess he's a smarter gent than I took him for.”

*   *   *

I ARRIVED AT
Dunmore House shortly after nine o'clock, and the street was already packed with automobiles. The crowds were even denser than they had been at the last party; I reflected grimly that it seemed the murder had only whetted society's appetite for scandal. There were people of every description flowing into Lord Dunmore's house in a sea of evening jackets, top hats, glimmering gowns, furs, and jewels. The mingled scents of a hundred expensive perfumes hung in the air like a pleasant cloud.

Lord Dunmore was standing in the foyer greeting guests when I entered the house. It seemed almost as though he was holding court—and enjoying it immensely—despite the macabre outcome of his last such event. He saw me come in and excused himself from the group he was with, working his way through the crowd to reach me.

“Amory, I'm so glad you've arrived,” he said, taking my hands in his and squeezing them. He stepped back as if to survey me. “You look ravishing.”

“Thank you.”

His eyes strayed to my neckline. “It suits you.”

My hand reached up to touch the Dunmore Diamond. I had put it on in the car after leaving Mr. Gibbs's shop, and I had been aware of the cold weight of it against my chest ever since. “I hope it works,” I said.

“People are beginning to notice, I think.” It was true. I had seen several curious glances in my direction since I had discarded my furs.

“I've thought it over,” I told him in a low voice to avoid being overheard. “At some point in the evening, I'll take it off and leave it upstairs. Then I'll tell each of the suspects that the latch is loose and I've set it aside. We shall hope that it proves too great a prize to resist.”

“Just be careful,” he said, his hand on my arm. “I should hate for you to put yourself in danger.”

“I'll be careful,” I assured him. I certainly didn't intend to take any unnecessary risks.

“Alexander.” A slim blond woman had appeared at his side, clutching his arm. “You've promised to introduce me to your friends.”

He smiled at me with a shrug. “Duty calls, Mrs. Ames. Save a dance for me?”

“Certainly.”

He allowed the blonde to lead him away, and I followed the crowds into the ballroom. The decorations were a bit different from what they had been at the last ball, but no less elaborate. If Lord Dunmore was indeed the culprit, it was not money he was after. He had far too much of that at his disposal already.

I was still taking it all in when Mrs. Barrington met my gaze from across the room and waved me toward her. She was wearing a gown of dark purple satin, but the gown was hardly noticeable against the veritable glare of her jewels. She wore a necklace of diamonds set in bright gold, and it gleamed in the light, rivaling the chandeliers.

“Good evening, Mrs. Barrington,” I said when I had reached her. “You look lovely this evening. Your necklace is beautiful.”

“These are paste, my dear. Lloyd had them made up for me. I didn't dare arrive in real diamonds, and I've let everyone know as much.”

“Yes, that seems the safest thing to do.” I thought of the Eiffel Tower brooch in Mr. Gibbs's shop but decided against mentioning it at present. I wanted a bit more time to sort things out in my mind.

“So that's the Dunmore Diamond, is it?” she said, her eyes on the gem at my neck. “It certainly is a lovely stone.”

“Yes. I feel a bit conspicuous wearing it.” It seemed the weight of responsibility made it heavier around my neck. I had a good deal of very expensive jewelry, much of it given to me by Milo, but it was another thing entirely to wear someone else's priceless family heirloom. Especially when one considered that I was, in essence, advertising it like wares at a market to a jewel thief and killer.

“Conspicuous is just what we want, isn't it?” she pointed out. “Now you've only to be seen by the suspects so that they know the diamond is in play.”

“I suppose I shall make my way around so that they can,” I told her.

She nodded. “Good luck, Mrs. Ames.” She looked strained, anxious, and I could only assume that the tension of the evening was beginning to weigh on her. I felt a bit nervy myself.

I reached out and patted her arm. “I think it will all work out.”

She tried to smile but didn't quite succeed. “Mrs. Ames, there's something else that concerns me. What Mrs. Douglas-Hughes told you, about James's comment that night that my necklace looked like it belonged to someone's mistress. Do you think … I've begun to wonder if perhaps Lloyd has a mistress. He's been acting so strangely as of late, going out at strange hours.”

I was surprised. “He seems very fond of you, Mrs. Barrington,” I said, and I meant it. I had seen nothing but devotion in Mr. Barrington's behavior. “Perhaps he's only been upset about Mr. Harker.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I suppose you're right. If you'll excuse me, I will see where he's gone off to.”

I took a glass of punch and began to make my way around the perimeter of the ballroom, looking for any of the suspects that might be induced to admire, and presumably covet, the Dunmore Diamond. There was a good deal of lovely jewelry in play tonight, but I thought none of it would be as tempting as the piece at my throat.

“Yoo-hoo, Mrs. Ames!” I stilled as I heard the voice behind me, cutting through the music of the orchestra with ease. It was Mrs. Roland.

I turned to see her approaching me in a brilliant scarlet silk kimono that might have been better suited to a boudoir than a ballroom. It seemed she had made good her threat to arrive uninvited at Lord Dunmore's ball.

“How are you, Mrs. Roland?” I asked resignedly as she reached me.

“Wonderful, wonderful! What a lovely party this is. I'm so glad you suggested I come.”

There was nothing I could say to this, but, luckily, no response was required.

“You look lovely, as always, my dear,” she went on, without stopping for breath. “Silver is so becoming with those gray eyes of yours, and…” Her eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared into the row of ringlets arranged low across her forehead. “That's the Dunmore Diamond, isn't it?”

“Yes,” I said, trying to think of some good excuse for wearing it. “I was speaking about it with Lord Dunmore, and he felt it was time it made an appearance. He asked me to wear it.”

“Indeed?” she asked, and I could hear the speculation in her voice. “And is your husband here, dear?”

That was a very good question. I had yet to see any sign of Milo.

“He should be here somewhere,” I said, inching away from her. “If you'll excuse me, Mrs. Roland, I have someone I must speak to.”

“Of course, dear. Of course. The diamond looks magnificent on you. Much better than it did on Lord Dunmore's mother!”

I did my best to disappear into the crowd and breathed a sigh of relief when I was sure I had been able to escape her. Her questions had become too pointed too quickly, and I hoped I would be able to avoid her for the rest of the night.

The evening was certainly off to an interesting start. I glanced at the clock. It was nearly ten o'clock. Things were spiraling toward a conclusion. If all went as planned, we would catch a killer by midnight.

 

28

AN HOUR LATER,
I decided I had mingled sufficiently and that it was time to put the plan into action. I had flaunted the necklace before all of the suspects, except Mr. and Mrs. Douglas-Hughes, whom I had not yet seen. I wondered if they had decided not to attend the ball. Inspector Jones had intended to encourage attendance, but Mr. Douglas-Hughes had friends in government, and I thought he would not be induced to come if he felt disinclined to do so.

There was still no sign of Milo either, but I would not wait forever. I would have to catch a killer without him.

I slipped into the foyer and made my way up the wide red stairs, treading carefully to avoid another mishap. There was no one sitting on the steps tonight, and the stairway seemed more sinister somehow. The inspector's warning was fresh in my mind, and, though I tried to act casual, I was very alert to be certain I was not being followed. All other considerations aside, it would be quite embarrassing to be murdered.

Speaking of Detective Inspector Jones, I had seen no sign of him as of yet. Nevertheless, I had no doubt that he was skulking about the premises somewhere, and I was confident that he had stationed a policeman in the bedroom across from the card room as we had discussed.

The upstairs hallway was quiet, and I reached the card room without encountering anyone. I carefully removed the necklace and set it on the card table. I stepped back to be certain it would offer sufficient enticement and was satisfied by the way it glittered even in the dimly lit room. It was rather an obvious ruse, I thought, but I hoped the thief would be too caught up by such a prize to notice.

With one final glance over my shoulder, I left the room, closing the door behind me, and went back downstairs.

In the foyer I spotted Mr. and Mrs. Douglas-Hughes, who had just come in. I wished I had waited a few more moments, so they might have seen the diamond. Perhaps I could find a way to bring it into the conversation.

“Good evening,” I said, approaching them. “I was just wondering if you were here somewhere.”

“Good evening, Mrs. Ames,” Mr. Douglas-Hughes replied pleasantly. “I'm afraid I was detained.”

“Nothing unpleasant has happened yet tonight, has it?” Mamie asked. The “yet” did not escape me. She expected something to happen, too. I wondered if everyone could feel the vague sense of anticipation in the air.