by Nancy Warren
It was an old black and white. The Professor’s Wife. Without the accompanying music, this really was a silent film.
On the enormous screen, a much younger Sylvia was staring right at me. She batted those expressive eyes and spoke. The words on the screen said, “Darling. You’ve made me so happy.” This was one of the scenes where she was wearing that Cartier set, and it hurt me to see it. I averted my gaze, and as I looked around the room, I realized it was a shrine. To Sylvia.
I didn’t dare turn on any lights, so the only illumination was from the movie projector. There wasn’t even moonlight as all the windows were shuttered.
It was super creepy. There were dresses on mannequins. Hats I recognized from the movie. Photographs all over the place. Every one of them was of Sylvia Strand. And, on a black, velvet mannequin, was either an extremely good copy of the Cartier set or the original.
My heart began to hammer. Please let it be the Cartier original that had been stolen.
I walked forward, my fingers itching to get at those jewels, and then I felt the pulsing power of my athame still in my hand. I glanced around swiftly, realizing I was not alone. I’d been so focused on the film and the jewels that I hadn’t considered that movie might have an audience.
What had I walked into?
A voice said, cool and amused, “I had a feeling when we first met that you’d be trouble.”
I turned and for the first time noticed there was someone sitting in one of the seats. He rose, and it was a slim man dressed in a dapper suit from the 1920s. It looked so much like the one Sylvia’s co-star wore that I wondered if it was, in fact, the very suit. His hair was slicked back.
I still recognized him, of course.
Edgar Smith.
The supposed business manager didn’t look so helpful and cheerful anymore. He looked cold. Deadly.
Murderous.
Chapter 24
I didn’t see a weapon in his hands, but no doubt he felt confident he could take care of me.
All I needed to do was scream and the vampires would be here in a second, but I wasn’t quite ready for that yet. I wanted to understand.
Help me to focus, I asked the athame silently. Cut the truth from the lies.
“You’re not Simon Dent’s business manager, are you?”
He looked at me like I was being particularly dim. “Do you think an underpaid administrator could afford all this?” He swept his arm around the space, then answered his own question. “Of course not. I inherited a fortune from my father. I was a terrible disappointment to him because he ran steel mills and I had no desire to take over that business.” He rolled his eyes. “Boring.”
He wandered over and gazed almost with rapture at Sylvia immortalized on the screen. “All I ever wanted was to make movies. I wanted to disappear into the world of glamour and possibilities. Being forced to learn the ropes of the steel industry sucked my soul dry. The only happiness I ever had was sitting in the dark of the cinema.”
I was stunned. He couldn’t be more than forty-five. “But that’s not a real movie. It’s a silent picture.”
He turned and glared at me as though I’d insulted his baby. “You know nothing. You obviously have no taste or artistic sentiment. It was a mockery for you to inherit that wonderful woman’s jewels.”
“You’re the one who’s been buying up all of Sylvia Strand’s memorabilia, aren’t you?”
“Of course. I have a passion for Cartier as well, but I must admit, it began when I learned of her close friendship with the jeweler.”
He glared at me. “And I’d have bought Sylvia’s Cartier set happily. But you were too greedy. You wanted to keep your inheritance all to yourself. You have a tawdry mind, commonplace and full of avarice.”
He wasn’t exactly coming across as a big-hearted philanthropist himself.
“So you’d have bought the set except it never came on the market.”
“Of course, I would. Steel money enabled me to fulfill my dream, finally, after my father…passed away.”
The way he said “passed away” was so cold, I was convinced he’d had something to do with his father’s demise. I’d have to get Hester to look into it. If I survived tonight.
Keep him talking, I thought. The vampires would come looking for me at some point.
“But why Sylvia? Why The Professor’s Wife?”
“Don’t you understand?” He gestured with a hand at the screen where she was laughing at the camera. “Have you ever seen anything or anyone so magnificent? If I were a magician, I would become her. But, as I can’t, I do the next best thing. I sit with her every night, bringing her alive again in the only way I know how.”
I wanted to snort. If he only knew. Sylvia was still around, and I doubted she’d want to cozy up to this guy.
“I buy up everything I can that belonged to her.” He glared at me again. “I bought this house, as she’d filmed here and gone to parties here. I’ve searched for years for that diamond and emerald set. It was a major part of her, and it eluded me. I’ve had agents all over the world making discreet inquiries, but it never came on the market. There was no evidence it had ever been sold. So I had to lure you into the open, you and the jewels.”
“Are you Simon Dent?”
He laughed. “It took you long enough to figure it out. Of course I am. I’ve been making movies for years. But I’ve never wanted anyone to know who I am. Or what my fortune is.” He laughed, an eerie sound. “I’m very much a behind-the-scenes producer.”
“Why did you kill Bryce Teddington?”
He seemed to think about it. “Because, Lucy, like you, he was a very nosy person. Wouldn’t leave things alone. He was absolutely right, of course. The entire production was a sham. At one time I had thought about remaking The Professor’s Wife, but how could you ever improve on perfection?”
I thought he and Sylvia might have something in common in that opinion.
“I went through all the trouble of finding a credible production company and lured you in, as I needed to find out who had the Cartier set. Extensive inquiries and a great deal of money spent on various investigators turned up the fact that it didn’t seem to have ever left her family. So I had the idea that if I pretended to remake the movie, I had a pretty good chance that I might at least be able to borrow the jewels.”
“With no intention of ever giving them back.” I had to admit, it was a pretty good plan. Expensive and devious, but also bold and unexpected. Which was obviously why it had worked.
“You have been slow-witted but unfortunately dogged in plodding along behind me, trying to find them.”
“And here I am. I’m afraid I’m going to have to take those jewels back from you.” Not to mention get the cops here so he could be arrested for murder.
Again he laughed. “I offered a fabulous sum to her lawyer, through a dealer I sometimes use, to purchase the Cartier set.”
What? That little nugget of information had not been passed on by Sylvia. Maybe if she’d been more forthcoming, we’d have ended up here a lot earlier. “It was obviously you who turned it down. I can’t be responsible for your greed. Lucy, you’re as responsible for Bryce Teddington’s death as I am.” He made a tutting sound. “You’re a greedy, greedy girl. You don’t even wear the jewels. I could tell, when you had them on at the gala, they weren’t natural to you. It didn’t look as though you two were even familiar with each other.”
“Nevertheless, they belong to me, not you.”
“Haven’t you realized, my dear, that you’re not leaving this house alive?”
I was about to answer in some flippant way. But I couldn’t think of anything. He took a step towards me and, not knowing what else to do, I brandished my athame. Okay, the edges were deliberately blunted and I doubted it could open a letter, but at first glance, the dagger was quite imposing. Especially with the eerie glow that had changed from blue to a more purple and red hue, from the power of my emotions, presumably.
It did stop him
in his tracks, and then he laughed. “Is that a prop knife? You’ll have to do better than that.”
I pointed the athame at him and was about to cast a spell when the door opened behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck rose. I knew without turning who it was.
“I’ve got this under control,” I said. “Please wait outside.”
Instead, there was an unearthly scream. “You terrible, little, thieving man,” Sylvia shrieked. She went running towards her necklace, saying, “My jewels. My jewels. If you’ve so much as left a fingerprint on them…”
The man I knew as Edgar Smith made a sound like a moan. “Sylvia?” He swayed, as though he might faint.
She turned to him, magnificent. “You are a disgrace to my name and my memory,” she shouted at him.
He walked towards her. Presumably he wasn’t very good at math if he hadn’t figured out that she had to be dead. “I did it for you. I did it all for you.” He went towards her with his hands held out as though…what? They were going to embrace?
Sylvia was having none of it. She walked towards him, and I could see the deadly intent. He opened his arms as though the woman of his dreams had agreed to be his.
As her lips peeled back, I yelled, “No,” but I was too late. She grabbed Edgar Smith and, well, what an angry vampire does is not pretty. That’s all I’m saying.
Now it was Edgar Smith screaming. I was beside myself. “Stop it,” I yelled. “Sylvia! Stop!” Luckily, the commotion drew the other vampires.
Rafe got there first. He took in the scene at a glance and raced to Sylvia, pulling her off her victim, who fell to the ground, pale and still. He held the squirming Sylvia, who was doing everything to break out of his hold.
Was it too late? I ran and dropped to my knees beside Edgar Smith. He looked deathly pale, but he was still alive. Barely. He’d lost a lot of blood though. I didn’t know what to do.
Hester and Carlos came running in and went to join Rafe. I glanced up at him. He was obviously more experienced with near-death-by-vampire than I was. Hester and Carlos helped him keep Sylvia under control. Theodore arrived last. Like Rafe, he didn’t waste time but simply took careful note of the situation.
“Will he make it?” I asked. My voice trembled. I didn’t like Edgar Smith, or whatever his name was, and he’d murdered Bryce Teddington and stolen Sylvia’s jewels, but I didn’t want him to end like this.
Besides, I wasn’t entirely sure how the whole vampire thing worked, but what if she’d accidently turned him into a vampire? I didn’t want him in the knitting club. So I had a lot of reasons to hope Edgar Smith didn’t end his life here. Now.
Theodore glanced up at me and said, “I’m not sure.” Then he looked at the group still holding back Sylvia. “I suggest you escort Sylvia out of here. As soon as possible.”
There was a thin dribble of blood hanging from her lip like a ruby. I saw what he meant. If they weren’t holding her back, she’d finish the job she’d started.
Before anyone could take her anywhere, she said, her voice ice-cold, “Not without my jewelry.”
He nodded once, and they escorted her to the mannequin, where she very swiftly stripped it of its jewels and, taking no chances, clasped the necklace around her throat, the earrings in her ears, the bracelets on her wrists, and the ring on her finger. The jewels looked so much better on her, like they belonged there.
Only then did she calm down and agree to leave with Hester and Carlos.
Rafe and I stayed behind with Theodore. I said, “What do we do now?”
We all looked at each other. I’d never dealt with this before, but presumably these two had. They seemed to be communicating silently, without including me. Finally, Rafe said, “It’s a bit dangerous, but I don’t see what choice we have.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. I hated being left out like this. Though I probably didn’t want to know.
Rafe looked at me, and I could see him struggling with himself. “Lucy. I’m sorry I can’t escort you home, but your flat will be safe now. Don’t answer the door or the telephone to anyone but me or Theodore.”
“But I could help. I don’t want you two to have all the responsibility of this.” Whatever this was.
He shook his head. “Trust me. It’s better if you leave us now.”
I glanced at Theodore, who nodded. “He’s right, Lucy. We’ll do this more quickly and easily without you.”
I glanced around the room. The movie was still playing, eerily. There was blood all over the floor, and who knew what Edgar would remember, assuming he survived.
As though he’d followed my train of thought, Theodore said, “Don’t worry, Lucy. I’ll cleanse the scene.”
“But won’t Edgar remember what happened to him?”
They glanced at each other again. “No.”
I knew I wasn’t going to get anything else out of them, so I didn’t bother trying.
“All right. But I feel like a real wimp leaving you to clean up. I should help, not run home and lock myself in my flat and jump into bed and pull the covers over my head.” Though, to be honest, that was exactly what I felt like doing.
“Really. You’d only be in the way,” Theodore said.
So I did as I was asked. Rafe walked me to the Tesla. I glanced at him. “You trust me with your car?”
“I trust you with my life, my heart, everything I have to give.”
I felt as though he’d pulled the breath right out of my lungs. He opened the door and waited while I got myself in. “I’ll come and see you later and let you know how it went.”
“Promise?”
“I do,” and then he swiftly kissed me, and watched as I drove away.
Of course, I didn’t do what he told me to. I drove back to Harrington Street, but instead of going upstairs to my flat, I went downstairs into the tunnels to where Sylvia lived. I knew I was no longer in danger.
Sure enough, when I knocked, the door was opened almost immediately by Hester. She looked more bright-eyed than ever. “Come on in,” she said. “We’re having a party.”
Sure enough, it was a very festive atmosphere. Sylvia had cleaned herself up, and no doubt Gran had redone her makeup and hair. She was wearing a floor-length silver and black gown that looked stunning and happily wearing the set of jewels.
She looked at me for the first time with something approaching warmth since I’d lost the jewels. “Well, Lucy? What do you have to say for yourself?”
“All I can say is I am never borrowing any of your jewelry ever again.”
There was general laughter, though not from Sylvia. I didn’t think she’d quite forgiven me yet.
“I should have remembered the old maxim, ‘Never send an understudy in and expect star power,’” she said with one eyebrow raised.
I smiled back at her, equally icily. “Or never send a mortal in to do what a vampire should do.”
Gran came over and gave me a hug. “You did a wonderful job, Lucy.” She kept an arm around my shoulders and turned to face Sylvia. “Don’t forget it was Lucy who foiled the plot and got your jewelry back.”
Sylvia sighed theatrically. But then Sylvia did everything theatrically. “Oh, very well. You are forgiven.”
I had a glass of Gran’s Harvey’s Bristol Cream because whatever the vampires were drinking I didn’t want, and we chatted over the whole extraordinary case.
I should have been exhausted, but I was so wired on adrenaline that I knew I couldn’t have slept, even if I’d tried. So I hung out with the vampire knitting club for two or three hours, and then Theodore and Rafe showed up.
Sylvia saw them first. She said, “Did you take care of him?”
Rafe looked at her satirically. “Don’t you want to know if he’ll live?”
“Not particularly.”
“Well, I do,” I said.
Theodore nodded. “He’s in hospital. He needed a blood transfusion, but I’m assured he’ll be fine.”
“But will he remember anything?�
��
“No. We made sure of that.”
I had no idea how they cleared people’s minds or erased people’s memories. It was a trick I’d like to learn.
I said, “But how did you get him to the hospital? I mean, not how did you get him to the hospital, but won’t the doctors be suspicious that he’s got bite marks on his neck?”
Once more, Rafe and Theodore exchanged a glance. I was getting irritated by this. “Just tell me.”
“Very well. He won’t have bite marks. We made it look as though he’d been attacked and someone had attempted to slit his throat but didn’t complete the job.”
Well, I had asked. I wanted to shriek out something like “gross,” but this was their world, not mine. And they had stopped Sylvia from killing him.
“But he still has to pay for what he did to Bryce Teddington. How do we tie him to that crime?” I asked.
“Because he wrote and signed a confession.”
Theodore said it so matter-of-factly that I nearly laughed. Nearly.
I didn’t know whether the confession would hold up, but all the police needed was reasonable cause to start investigating the man who’d called himself Edgar Smith, and they were going to find some very interesting stuff. Hester hadn’t wasted her time in his computers. She’d found lots of shady-looking money transfers and business done under several aliases.
Edgar Smith, when he recovered, would find himself in a world of trouble.
Chapter 25
I was back in my shop again. And, amazingly enough, after not being here for a few days, I found I’d missed it. Clara and Mabel had done a wonderful job looking after the place, but they’d put the mohair where I liked to keep the alpaca wool and they’d lined everything up so perfectly, it was almost too neat. My personal opinion is that a knitting and wool shop should not be too pristine. You want shoppers to feel they can squeeze the balls of wool and touch things without worrying they’ll get in trouble.
I was unpacking a new shipment of Teddy Lamont books and magazines. As I was putting them out on display, a blanket on the front cover of a magazine caught my eye. Mainly because it said, “An easy but stylish project.” It was a blanket small enough to snuggle up with in front of the TV and hang over the back of the couch when it wasn’t in use. For the first time I could remember, I actually felt the urge to knit something. Not out of obligation or so I’d have something to do during the vampire knitting club meetings, but I actually wanted to knit something. This was a huge breakthrough.
