Читать книгу London's Calling - Elysabeth Williams - Страница 7

Chapter 3

Entering through the front of Miss Merriweather’s during the day was awkward, Delilah soon realized as the gilt door closed behind her. The looks and stares of passersby were a bit disconcerting. Yet, Delilah took a deep breath and held her head high as she strode through the main dining hall and to the hall of offices into the underbelly of Miss Merriweather’s. It confused her why they were staring though…unless it was because of last night’s debacle. News of her dismissal must have spread quickly.

As Delilah reached Miss Johnsworth’s office, she began to hear familiar voices. She peered through the partially closed door. She could make out the voice of Jillian Johnsworth without seeing her face. From this angle, she recognized Charlie facing the desk where Miss Johnsworth sat. He was holding his hat in his hands, fidgeting.

“Mr. Grum, what were the reasons behind dismissing her?” Jillian Johnsworth asked Charlie, who shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“There was an incident last night with her outfit.”

“An incident?”

“Yes, she were doing her finale–the upside down bit–and ‘er top came loose. It fell on some bloke’s head in the front row. Artie damn near passed out on the spot to see ‘er front parts,” Charlie responded, his face turning red.

Jillian scoffed. “So he dismissed her for a faulty costume?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Hmm.”

Delilah couldn’t see what she was doing, but heard papers shuffling around.

“Doesn’t seem like a good enough reason to dismiss her straight away. What was the crowd’s reaction?”

“Oh they loved her, Miss Johnsworth. So much hootin’ and clapping. They love her so.”

Delilah’s throat tightened and she feared she would cry.

“Do you know if she went home after she was dismissed?”

“No, ma’am. Not to be prying in her business, but Delilah was evicted from her home the night before. I offered her a place to stay with me and me missus, but she turned me down.”

Delilah heard sniffing and saw Charlie dab his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. “I should ‘ave been more demanding. She wouldn’t be in this mess. She’s a nice girl, Miss Johnsworth. A bit rough around the edges, perhaps, but there’s no way Miss Delilah could have killed that bloke.”

Delilah’s eyes widened and her previously tight throat all but closed.

“All right, Charles. I appreciate your candor. I’ll note your visit with me and let the officers know. I shall advise you if anything further will be necessary. If you have any contact with her, please let me know.”

“Thank you, Miss Johnsworth.” As he stood, he donned and tipped his hat, and then walked toward the door. Delilah backed away from it and darted into an empty office across the hall, shutting the door before he saw her.

She cracked it open and watched Charlie stop and talk to a few people. They milled around chatting about things she couldn’t hear and then watched them disperse, leaving the hall empty. Without anything else to do for the moment, she turned around to face the dimly lit room. A musty, metallic scent of something familiar reached her nose. Her eyes adjusted to the lack of light and certain things in the room came into focus. Spatters of blood covered the walls. Furniture was overturned. Papers were shredded. Blood coated the floor in sticky puddles.

Delilah shoved her knuckles into her mouth to contain a scream. She flung the door open and bolted out of the room. Tripping over her own shoes in haste, she ran into Miss Johnsworth’s office and slammed the door behind her.

Jillian jumped at the noise and instantly pulled a pistol from her garter belt, aiming it at Delilah’s head. Delilah screamed this time, and fell in a heap on the floor, consumed with sobs.

Miss Johnsworth lowered the gun and ran to her side. She wrapped her hands around Delilah’s shoulders with a gentle pull, signaling Delilah to face her.

“Miss Knightly! I am terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Please tell me what happened. Are you all right?”

Delilah turned her head to see Miss Johnsworth hovering above her. Concern was etched in her face. Delilah tried to speak but was unable to catch her breath. She hiccupped and attempted to gain composure. Miss Johnsworth left her side and went to a sidebar, only to return with a cup of hot tea. Delilah took a deep breath and smelled the warm aroma of tea mingled with brandy wafting to her nose.

With a shaky hand, she reached for the cup and took a sip. It burned and soothed as it traveled to her stomach. Within seconds, the warmth spread throughout her body and she relaxed. Delilah sighed and smiled tentatively at Miss Johnsworth.

“It makes everything a little better, dear–even for a moment. Come take a seat in a chair and we’ll talk.” She held out a hand to Delilah, and she took it to help her stand. Once her footing was secured, Miss Johnsworth left her side to close the office door and shoved the lock into place. “Now then,” she said, tucking the gun back in her garter and sitting down at the desk, “we apparently have a problem.” Miss Johnsworth folded her hands on the desktop and leaned forward. “Scotland Yard seems to believe you’ve murdered Mr. McGinnis.”

Delilah’s shakes returned and she began to cry. Like a mother scolding a child for being loud, Miss Johnsworth shushed her. “Delilah. I need to know details. There’s no time for you to cry. They are to return this afternoon and I must interview everyone who was present last night.”

She silenced her cries and huffed–angry with herself for allowing such an outburst.

“I wasn’t aware he was killed. I was walking in the hallway and happened upon his office…” she gestured toward the door. Delilah choked on the memory of the blood, the gore, the sick smell of death permeating the room just a few doors away.

“I see that now, Miss Knightly. We need to verify your alibi to the police. Can you tell me where you were after you left work?”

Delilah thought back to the night before. The senses of sitting on the cold curb with a man.

“Yes. I met someone outside.”

She blinked. What was his name? She instantly remembered his sharp grey eyes, the way his black hair fell in his face, but the name was hard to recall. The memory of the way his lower lip curled into a grin, still freshly mottled with blood and fresh bruising was crystal clear. She took another sip of her tea, the now-cool sweetness slipping down her throat. Oh, she remembered.

“Dante Heller.” She sipped again, the tea giving her false confidence.

Her former employer’s eyes popped open wide. “Lord Heller?”

Delilah spat tea all over Miss Johnsworth. “Excuse me! I wasn’t aware he was a Lord. He just introduced himself as Dante Heller.”

Miss Johnsworth laughed loudly and reached for her handkerchief in a desk drawer. “Oh dear, no you wouldn’t have had any idea, would you? This is awkward. Yes, dear, Sir Dante Heller recently inherited the entire estate of his father. And by ‘recently,’ I mean to say, within the last week. From what I understand, he’s a tad bit reluctant of the change of hands since his older brother, who would have received the Lordship, took his own life last month as well. Very tragic start for the new lord.”

“Does Mr.–pardon me–does Lord Heller have enemies?”

Miss Johnsworth’s eyebrows furrowed and she tapped her cheek with a finger. Shaking her head, she answered. “I wouldn’t know. Why do you ask?”

Delilah was hesitant to answer. She paused a moment before she replied. “He was assaulted last night in the alley near the exit.”

“Assaulted!”

“Yes, Miss Johnsworth. I tripped over his hand as I exited the building last night. He had been beaten very wickedly.”

“Please, call me Jillian.” She put her hand up and Delilah took the motion to mean ‘stop talking.’ Jillian slowly walked to the bar and fixed herself another drink, this time without any tea. Downing the drink in one gulp, she turned back to Delilah and leaned on the bar. “Did he alert the police?”

“I don’t know.” She omitted the part where she left him on the street. She left out the part where she wished she could turn around and follow him to his house. She also omitted the part where she fell asleep and dreamed of being with him. Now, with a murder she had to prove innocence, there would an iceberg’s chance in hell. She scoffed loudly, blinking away the thought. Returning her attention to Jillian, Delilah realized her eyes had narrowed in on her.

“Something on your mind?”

Oops.

She shook her head. “Nothing…Just confused and lost.”

“Understandably so.” Jillian nodded and sat back in her chair. Delilah watched Jillian’s gaze rest on the window looking over the park and they both were silent for a moment. “Miss Knightly, Scotland Yard will be here soon to take more statements from other employees. I think it would be very prudent if you were here to do the same. I know they are currently looking for you. It would make sense if you stayed and discussed the situation–especially under my supervision and not under theirs, if that makes sense.”

The idea of speaking to the police made her palms itch and her heart race. “I’m not sure I can handle that sort of thing. Do you think they’ll take me to jail?”

“I’m not certain. It’s possible. They consider you a person of interest. But it is the right thing to do, don’t you agree?”

Delilah nodded. She knew it was. There wasn’t much sense in running away. She knew her innocence. There was nothing to be afraid of.