“She wasn’t with it,” the detective said. “Nor was she in the vicinity. We asked our informants in the neighborhood and they confirmed the vehicle was abandoned not more than an hour after your cousin was attacked and Miss Warrington was abducted.”
“Did they see who left it there?” Val set his glass atop his desk, too agitated now to drink it. “Was Miss Warrington with them? Did she seem well?”
“She wasn’t with them,” Eversham said tersely. “And they’d never seen the man who left the carriage in that neighborhood before.”
Val cursed. “Then that’s it? There was nothing else to be learned from it? Frank is going to be wild with worry.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“I didn’t say that.” Eversham’s voice was placating. “We found something in the carriage. We’ll need to ask your cousin if he recognizes the item, however, to know if the kidnappers left it.”
He reached into his coat and handed a crumpled paper to Val.
Moving closer to the lamp, Val saw that it was a playbill announcing the opening of Hamlet at the Lyceum Theatre, dated for that very night, and starring Miss Effie Warrington as Ophelia. There was a line drawing of a young woman in the middle of the page, her hand clasped to her cheek. Val had never seen his cousin’s fiancée before, but from the wording on the advertisement, this was her.
“How do we know this wasn’t simply a souvenir Miss Warrington took home from the theatre to commemorate her role?” Val asked, unwilling to let this item symbolize more without additional concrete information. He didn’t wish to give his cousin false hope, especially not after seeing just how anguished he was by her disappearance.
“Look at the back.” Eversham lifted his chin.
Wordlessly, Val did so and saw a delicate feminine hand had written:
For Richard, my most devoted admirer
—Effie Warrington
Val stared down at the page in disbelief. Then, he thrust the paper into Eversham’s hands and pulled the bellpull. This was just the opportunity he needed to make things right for both Caro and Frank. He moved behind his desk, pulled out a sheet of paper and a fountain pen, and began writing.
Once he’d sealed the note, Val handed it to the footman who’d answered his summons. “Deliver that to 19 Belgrave Square. Wait for a response if there is one.”
When the young man was gone, Eversham asked wryly, “What was that all about?”
“If my cousin’s fiancée was taken by one of her admirers, we’ll need to attend tonight’s performance and ask the hangers-on in the greenroom who is conspicuously absent. Or suspicious.”
The detective laughed. “There is no ‘we’ about it, my friend. This part of the investigation is just the thing for a viscount about town.”
“You don’t seriously believe Kate and Caro will permit me to go there by myself. Or that Kate will allow you to escape with some flimsy excuse.”
“Where did you send that note?” Eversham asked, his eyes narrow with suspicion.
“To Caro’s parents,” Val said with a shrug. “I think it would be best for us all to watch the performance from my family box. You and Kate included.” He didn’t say aloud that he also hoped the invitation could serve as a renewed apology of sorts for his allowing Piers to speak so disparagingly of both her and her parents that evening years ago. What better way to prove that he had no qualms about being seen with them than by having her family join him in the duke’s private box?
Eversham’s eyes widened. “And now I will have to save my wife’s best friend from the gallows because you’re simply too much of a coward to invite her to the theatre like a rational person. Instead, you send the invitation to her marriage-minded mama, who will take it as a sign of your interest in her daughter. You have a death wish, my lord.”
“Don’t be so fatalistic.” Val waved his hand, though now he was rather concerned that what he’d thought was a clever idea would only backfire. “I’m sure she won’t murder me.”
He wasn’t quite so sanguine inside. It was entirely possible Caro would be livid at him for his high-handed behavior. But damn it, Frank’s courage in standing up for Effie had shown him he needed to prove to Caro that he wasn’t the coward he’d once been. Not because he wished to win her back, he told himself firmly. It was the principle of the matter.
“I suppose it will be worth kitting myself out in evening gear to watch you get your comeuppance from a woman who barely comes up to your shoulder,” Eversham said thoughtfully.
They stood in companionable silence for a moment, but neither man had forgotten the real reason Eversham was there. Val only hoped that tonight’s foray into the greenroom would give them some much needed answers.
* * *
When Caro and Kate alit from the carriage in the alleyway behind the Lyceum Theatre, they headed straight for the players’ entrance, which Effie had shown them once after a performance. The actors and actresses couldn’t come and go via the same doors as the public—not only to preserve the theatrical illusion, but also to protect them from those admirers who might assume more familiarity with them than was warranted.
Now, a few hours before the curtain was to go up, the area was deserted with the exception of a few workmen milling about.
Caro had learned long ago that the secret to gaining entrance to an establishment where one wasn’t sure of one’s welcome was to simply behave as if one had a perfect right to be there. Therefore, she and Kate strode forward, heads held high, opened the door and walked inside.
If the alley outside was calm, the backstage area of the theatre was anarchy. A series of hallways led out in three directions from the large open space before them and was clogged with people coming and going. Here, a woman carried lavish costumes, and there, a burly man hauled a gilded chair that must have been meant for the set. There was a feeling of controlled chaos, and Caro was reminded of what Effie had once said about the excitement and energy she felt before a performance. She sent up a hope that her friend would be back soon to immerse herself again in such a scene.
“What we need,” Kate said, glancing around them, “is someone in authority. To let them know that Effie won’t be here for tonight’s performance.”
“Not yet,” Caro said in a low voice. “I want to gauge Julia Todd’s reaction when we tell her Effie is missing. If she had something to do with her rival’s disappearance, then surely her response will be muted.”
“I’m not sure she’s going to be as revealing as you think,” Kate said in an equally low voice. “She is an actress, after all.”
Caro winced, but before she could respond, a stunningly beautiful statuesque blonde in an elaborately patterned silk dressing gown, trailed by a plainer woman carrying a stack of dresses, crossed from one hallway to near where they currently stood.
“Pardon me.” Caro stepped in front of the beauty. “I wonder if you can tell me where we might find Miss Julia Todd?”
Releasing an impatient huff, the woman stopped and glared at them. “This area is for theatre staff only. We can’t have people wandering in from the street.” Her words, coupled with a dramatic toss of her golden ringlets, told Caro they’d found the woman they sought.