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It was locked
She flicked a quick glance behind her Although this back alley was far more active than the wide front street, nobody was currently in view – or, more importantly, within earshot – of her She put her lips next to the lock and coe, ‘Servants’ entry door lock, sealed and closed, now open!’
The tu vigour The door shuddered and the latch cae
Irene walked through the servants’ corridors into the main part of the house Theopen, there were piles of discarded linen and clothing everywhere and dirty boot-marks on the luxurious crimson carpets The place hadn’t been tidied either, after the ‘rude interruption’ to the dinner party Dirty plates and glasses were piled in stacks or left lying on polished tables, and ashtrays were full to overfloith discarded cigar and cigarette ends
Despite searching with a certain horrified curiosity, she couldn’t find any secret torture chae vampiric devices She did find that the books displayed prominently in every chamber had been dusted, but the spines were pristine and un-creased They had the sad, untouched air of literature paraded for display purposes but never actually used
It was profoundly depressing
Wyndhaas artwork on the walls; a whole dozen pictures of wos Thick crimson curtainsHer footsteps were silent
The heavy oak desk was bare of papers, and all the draere locked She could open them later if she had to A deep score mark marred the desk’s surface Probably from the removal of Wyndha outwards from the line of the cut She didn’t think they’d co chair behind the desk (ebony with black leather cushions – how vulgar) had been pushed over at so long enough to leave a dent in the plush carpet
Blood had soaked into the carpet too, but it was barely visible, a slightly darker brown amid the rich thick crimson
The glass display case in the corner could have held the Gri, the case was sealed with all manner of co, it was now e around the room Wyndham was the sort of man ould have needed a safe, and where better to keep it than in his study She would have bet money on it Now she just had to try and find it
Unsurprisingly, the biggest pseudo-Degas hid the safe She swung the painting back and examined the heavy iron door Combination lock Well, she could always talk it open, but
She heard quick approaching footsteps on the main stairs It must be a man; a woman wouldn’t stride like that, not in these skirts But there wasn’t supposed to be anyone in the house! Perhaps another burglar? What
She quickly concealed the safe, and retreated behind one of the thick curtains She needn’t fear discovery within its thick folds Merely suffocation
The door swung open with a heavy creak Clearly the intruder wasn’t bothering with caution She waited until she heard the sound of the painting swinging back before she carefully peered round the edge of the curtain
The ht, ell-squared shoulders and a slender waist His pale hair, a shade soathered back in a short tail that fell neatly against his perfectly fitted jacket His trousers were just as well cut,gear If your host hadn’t been murdered His top hat was tilted insouciantly to one side, and he earing pale grey kid gloves
He reached out a hand to delicately brush the wheel-handle of the safe, then snatched his fingers back with an angry hiss A thin scent of burning flesh hung in the air, even through his gloves
Irene let the curtain fall back into place, and considered Clearly there was more to Lord Wyndham’s alliance with the Fair Folk than met the eye, if he’d ainst Fae This supported the newspaper’s whole ‘diabolical intrigue’ theory, and it rather fitted what she knew about the Fae They liked complicated relationships It didn’tas the other person had strong feelings towards theh, for instance, to install a completely Fae-proof safe And if she’d been able to choose her options a few hours ago, being trapped in a dead vary Fae would not have been one of thely, she heard hi of a cold, it was a hungry sniff, a tasting of the air
‘Ohhhh’ His voice hung on the air like incense ‘Co for you?’
Irene took a deep breath, set her face to an expression of polite unconcern, and moved the curtain back ‘The Liechtenstein Auessed
His face was as pretty as his body had suggested, but his eyes were slitted like a cat’s and pure gold ‘Why,’ he said, tone smooth as honey, ‘you are quite correct But what sort of little mouse hides behind the curtains? Are you a blackmailer, little mouse? A spy? A detective? A little rat in the arras, just waiting to be stabbed?’