to be found, even if they had wanted to waste money on one. Neither of them had any desire for the supper Nutall had originally proposed to end the evening. Thalia fell into step beside Nutall as they walked briskly westward from Times Square back to Mrs. Morris’s boardinghouse. The whole way, Thalia had the sense someone was following them. She looked over her shoulder four times and never saw anything.
“What is it?” Nutall asked.
“Is there someone behind us?” Thalia took another look. Still nothing but darkness. “I feel like someone is watching us.”
Nutall slowed as they came to a corner and then pulled them both into the shelter of a shuttered newsstand. Together they listened and watched in silence for five minutes, ten minutes.
Thalia watched until her eyes burned and she had to blink repeatedly. There was nothing.
“I don’t see anyone.” Nutall sounded amused. “Perhaps giving false names to the police is bothering your conscience?”
“No.” Thalia was certain the sensation was neither imagination nor conscience, but Nutall’s good humor inspired her to ask, “Where were you last night? Don’t lie.”
Nutall hesitated before he answered, and when he did, his voice was grave. “I went to the Imperial Theater. After the performance, I tried to talk to Von Faber. He wouldn’t see me there, so I waited for him outside his hotel. He never came.”
Thalia nodded. “You wanted him to drop the noncompete clause.”
“I wanted to talk to him, that’s all.” Nutall cleared his throat. “It occurs to me that perhaps there is good reason this area is deserted at this hour. Perhaps we should go. It is neither a good time nor a good place for a stroll.”
Thalia gave it her best effort, but Nutall would say nothing more. Once they were back at the boardinghouse, he went to bed immediately.
Mrs. Morris was waiting for them. Thalia returned the hat, veil, and stole with her thanks.
“Did you have a good evening?” Mrs. Morris asked.
Thalia was tempted to say yes, but she knew the morning papers would be full of Von Faber’s death. “Not really. Let me tell you all about it.”
* * *
Thalia slept surprisingly badly, but eventually morning arrived. She tended to her doves and worried about the snake. At the breakfast table, talk among the other boarders was a debate about the best barber in the immediate vicinity. Ordinarily Nutall would have joined in with enthusiasm, but today he was silent yet nervy and on edge. Watchful, Thalia stayed at the table with him. She kept her hands in her lap and did her finger exercises out of sight beneath the tablecloth.
At last, they were all dislodged by Mrs. Morris clearing the table. Thalia tagged after Nutall into the parlor and cornered him near the potted plant. “I’m teaching Miss Ryker again today. What will you be doing this afternoon?”
“I was planning to make the rounds and see about getting us a gig.” Nutall produced a neatly folded newspaper. “Now I’m having second thoughts.”
Thalia took the paper from him. The only item on the front page that didn’t relate to Von Faber’s death was an item about a second manticore sighting in Central Park. The headline screamed MURDER NOT MISADVENTURE. Beneath the headline was a photogravure of a wedding portrait, a much younger Von Faber arm in arm with a plump blond bride. Beneath the picture, the caption read Grieving Widow Offers Reward.
“That’s not Mrs. Von Faber,” Thalia said.
“It is the first Mrs. Von Faber,” Nutall replied. “According to local gossip, his assistant didn’t know that Von Faber had been married before.”
“How typical of him to lie to her about that.” Thalia took her time reading. “I see what you mean. But the police might find it just as suspicious if we don’t do anything. It’s normal to look for work.”
Nutall eased the lace curtain back and looked out the front window. “Keep your eyes open. Someone may be watching this place.”
Thalia craned her neck to look past him. The street view was precisely as usual, a few pedestrians and hardly any wheeled traffic. The feeling she’d had the night before, that sense she was being followed, was entirely absent. “Why would they do that?”
Nutall let the curtain fall back in place and eased away from the window. “It’s possible the police have noticed we used false names. Even if they haven’t, it won’t be long before it occurs to them to wonder about Von Faber’s business rivals. His death was good news for us.”