grip. “Anyway, this conversation is going nowhere, Daniel. I am not ready to look at houses yet and I have an appointment with a client for which I must get ready soon.”
“Then I guess that’s that,” he said grumpily. “Very well, Molly, perhaps you’ll be good enough to tell me when you are ready to set a date for our wedding and to start making concrete plans for our future. I’m over thirty, Molly. I want a home and a family. I love you but I’m not going to wait forever.”
He started to walk away.
“Daniel!” I called after him. “Don’t be like that. I do want to marry you. And we will set a date, just as soon as we get our current cases settled. I promise.”
He turned back. “Really? That’s a promise? This will be your last case?”
“I didn’t exactly say that.”
“Then think about it Molly. Think which is more important to you, a life with me, or this constant striving to prove your independence.” He pulled out his pocket watch. “I must go. I’m already late.”
Then he stalked off without kissing me. I let myself into the house feeling sober and a little scared. I didn’t want to lose Daniel, did I? But I didn’t want to lose Sid and Gus and my independence either. Why did women have to settle for one or the other? It just didn’t seem fair.
An hour or so later I was on my way to Miner’s Theatre, dressed in the black-and-white two-piece, which still managed to look smart, in spite of a few stains and rips. My hair was more or less tamed into a bun with the jaunty black hat perched on top. I was also wearing rouge and lipstick, which felt strange. But I had to look the part. As I rode the trolley southward I had time to reflect upon what I had undertaken. I had seen a girl killed onstage in what appeared to be no more than a horrible accident. I had witnessed Bess Houdini’s attack of hysteria on seeing that girl, and her nervous disposition. And there was really nothing she had told me that fully convinced me that someone was out to kill her husband. But I had a well-developed sixth sense myself. If she sensed danger, then I couldn’t completely dismiss it. Besides, it was a challenging case and if nothing else, I dearly wanted to get to the bottom of the Scarpelli accident before the police did. If I was going to leave my profession, then I was going out with a bang!
I went around to the stage door of the theater. The doorkeeper recognized me instantly. “You back again? Lost another shawl?” he asked.
I gave a nonchalant laugh. “No, tonight I’m here to see the show as guest of Mrs. Houdini,” I said. “I helped her the other day when she became upset after seeing Scarpelli’s assistant lying there with blood all over her. She was grateful and when she heard that the show was sold out for the rest of its run, she invited me to come and watch it from backstage.”
“I see.” He was staring at me hard. He started to say something, then he shrugged his shoulders. “Well, if you’ve been invited by one of the performers, then I guess there’s nothing more for me to say. I’ll have the callboy send up a message to them that you’re here.”
“I’m sure I can find my way,” I said.
“I’m sure you can but it’s more than my job’s worth to have an outsider wandering around backstage when illusionists are setting up their acts. They are so cagey about their secrets that they wouldn’t even allow their own mothers anywhere near them.”
At that moment a reporter showed up. “So what’s the news on Scarpelli, then?” he asked. “Has he been found? Has the girl’s body been found?”
“No good asking me anything, son,” the doorkeeper said calmly. “I’m just the guy who guards the door. Nobody tells me anything. If you want to know that, you’d better ask the police. All I can tell you is that his name’s not on the bill tonight. Now beat it.”
While they were talking I had moved down the little passageway that led to the backstage area. I wasn’t intending to make a run for it, but I thought I might just be able to see what was going on back there. As I came near the end of the hall I heard voices. Two men