Floats the Dark Shadow (32 page)

Feeling like an actor in a bad melodrama, Michel replied, “I will do everything I can to solve this crime. First, I would like to ask Mademoiselle Darline a few questions, in your presence, of course.”

“You must tell the Inspecteur what you remember, my sweet one.” Lalou said to her daughter.

The girl stepped forward, still honestly frightened but now aware of being the center of the drama. Michel knelt beside the child, not too close, but bringing him down to her eye level. He waited until she actually looked at him, then asked, “Did you recognize the man?”

“I don’t know!” She burst into tears, huddling against her mother, who stroked and soothed her.

“Don’t you think we asked that?” Dancier glared daggers at him. He was furious with himself for not having caught the kidnapper, Michel knew, and his temper was aggravated by the confined space. But it was pointless to suggest he leave and walk off some of the tension.

“I must ask again. Perhaps she remembers more now that she is safe.”
I don’t know
might mean nothing more than the child was confused. It could mean that she had seen the man but not often enough to say where or to give him a name. It could mean she did recognize him but was afraid to say so.

“Then ask,” Dancier snapped. Michel stared him down. Dancier knew better than to undermine his authority. Dancier glanced away, then said to Lalou and her daughter, “Do your best to answer. I’ve called in the smartest
flic
I know.”

Michel accepted the oblique apology and turned his attention back to the child. “Mlle. Darline, you’ve been frightened but you are here with people who love you.” He could not say people who will keep you safe since she would no longer believe that. “I need you to be brave and help me to catch the man who tried to steal you away.”

“Did his own little girl die?” she asked plaintively. “Does he need a new one?”

A budding actress, Michel thought, used to hearing her mother recite. Or perhaps the Grand Guignol had a future playwright. “That is possible. Perhaps he is lonely. If we find him, there are lonely orphans who need parents. Then he won’t frighten any more little girls.” He made himself stop and take a breath. The story was absurd but might reassure the child. “Close your eyes and imagine yourself back in the lobby. Tell me what you were doing.”

“Mama was rehearsing. I played with my doll.” She went over to the case he’d seen earlier and picked up the doll. “She’s beautiful, like mama.”

“Yes, very beautiful,” he agreed.

“I always play there unless there is going to be a matinee. There are no matinees today.”

“I see,” Michel said.

“She’s very good, very quiet. No one minds,” Lalou broke in. “They love her.”

“Of course they do,” Michel replied, but he kept his attention on Darline. “Was the lobby empty until the man came?”

She shook her head. “Someone brought paint, and a lady brought black netting.”

“They are building a new set. People have been in and out all day.” It was Dancier this time, needing to say something.

Michel spared him a quick warning glance then turned back to the girl. He wanted to keep the images vivid in her mind. “Some people came. Then it was quiet again. What game were you playing with your doll?”

“I was making her into Salomé. Mama had beautiful costumes made for her…to commemorate her roles.” Darline spoke the last carefully, obviously quoting. It seemed vain on the mother’s part, but perhaps it was an amusing way for the little girl to share more in her life…or her dreams…for Lalou had not played the lead in
Salomé
. “I was making my doll a new cape. Monsieur Dancier gave me a pretty cravat.”

Dancier must be truly smitten if he’d given Lalou’s child one of his precious cravats. Michel continued. “Where were you sitting, Darline?”

“On the staircase. I’m not in the way there.”

“Did you see the man come through the door?”

“He had flowers.”

“Did you see his face?”

She shook her head and repeated, “He had flowers. White ones and pink ones.”

Michel squelched his disappointment. He’d held out hope even though Méténier had already said no one had seen the man’s face. But the little girl did have an eye for detail. “Did you notice what was he wearing?”

She scrunched her face. “A black coat.”

“Shoes, boots? A hat?”

She shook her head.

“Did he have any smell?”

“Just the rag,” she wailed again. “The horrid smelly rag.”

“Ssshh…” Michel made it a soothing sound. He was pushing too hard. “You are doing very well.” He was afraid the mother would interrupt, but Darline calmed down quickly, so he asked, “Did he come right over to you?”

“He went to the door. I thought he was going inside.”

Michel nodded. “But he came back.”

“I didn’t see—he sneaked up! But I smelled the funny smell. I looked up, and he covered my face with the rag.”

“How did you get away?” Michel could not imagine her escaping.

“Mama told me that if a man ever grabbed me, I should try to kick him or hit him in the place between his legs.”

“Excellent advice.” He almost smiled, imagining Dancier sharing the same internal wince he did.

“I was cutting up the pretty cravat to make a cape for my doll. I had scissors. I stabbed him there with the scissors. He yelled.”

“They were very sharp scissors,” Lalou said, then added defensively, “She sews very well, very neatly.”

“Seems she stabs neatly too.” This time, Dancier winced visibly.

Michel allowed the smile now. “We are all very impressed with how clever you were.”

“And brave,” Dancier added.

“I screamed.” Darline did not believe him. “I screamed and I ran into the theatre. I tripped and fell.”

“Now you know the secret that all brave men know,” Michel said. “You can be scared and still be brave. You did just the right things.”

“I did?” Darline looked to Dancier for confirmation.

“You were brave. They will call you Darline of the Scissors.” Dancier raised his hands and mimed snipping. Darline giggled.

Michel tried a few more questions, but the girl could not remember anything more. The seamstress was summoned to take Darline to another room. Michel sat in the chair across from Lalou. “Mlle. Joliette, have you noticed anyone suspicious hanging about the theatre?”

“There are always strange people, but not strange enough to make me worry.”

“Or near your home?”

“Home?” She gasped, but it was only fear, not recognition. Wide-eyed, she turned to Dancier and cried, “Oh, Blaise, we won’t be safe at home!”

“I’ll put you up in a hotel,” Dancier said at once.

“Thank you,” Lalou whispered, but Michel thought he caught a hint of disappointment. Her fear was real but she had also tried to play Dancier for more than she got. Her lover’s home would be even more secure than a hotel, but as far as Michel knew, Dancier had never had a mistress in residence.

“The Élysées,” Dancier offered, as compensation. “Darline will be escorted to and from school, and you’ll be escorted to the theatre.

“Will you take me to the Élysées?” Lalou asked.

Dancier frowned and shook his head. “Jacques le Rouge will get you there safely. I’ve already put aside some important business.”

Michel wondered if there really were business that couldn’t be put off, or if Dancier wanted to go hunting for the kidnapper. Either or both.
Life and crime must go on.

“There are some things I need at home. A change of clothes….” Lalou bit her lip nervously, worried now about seeming too demanding.

“After we finish the interviews, we can conduct Mlle. Joliette to the hotel,” Michel offered. “We can stop at her current home for anything she needs to take with her. While she packs, Inspector Rambert and I can ask a few questions of the neighbors.”

“That’s good,” Dancier said. “Jacques will go book a room at the Élysées, and stay with you until I come tonight.”

“
Merci, mon cheri.
” Lalou gave him a grateful smile. Michel wondered how the desk clerk would react to Jacques le Rouge sauntering through the lobby of his plush hotel. Whatever his reaction, Dancier’s name would get a very nice little suite with no argument.

Michel turned back to Lalou. “Mlle. Joliette, this man might be a stranger who seized an opportunity but he might also be someone you know—” She shook her head vehemently, but Michel went on, “—or someone who is associated with the theatre.”

Dancier shifted slightly, becoming more attentive.

Michel continued, “I would like you to make a list of your admirers.”

Lalou just looked at him for a moment. He wondered if she might not be able to write, but she drew out some paper and a pen. “I have many admirers,” she said, with a proud tilt of the chin. “Most are gentlemen. But there are also women who wish to emulate me. I cannot believe any of them would wish me harm. Or my daughter.”

“Jealousy,” Dancier suggested. “Your beauty. Your talent….”

It was a sop to her ego, but she smiled at him.

“Perhaps, though no one has been spiteful to me.”

“You may not remember everyone right away,” Michel said, handing her the pen. “I will copy what you write now. But you will keep the original in case you think of anyone else.”

She picked up the pen then bit her lip. Michel knew she didn’t want to list her lovers for Dancier to read, and Michel didn’t want him to see an intriguing list of suspects. But there was no way to prevent it. If he took the original, Dancier would demand another. “There must be men whose vanity was injured by your refusal,” he suggested. “Or it could be someone who works for a past suitor, someone who has seen you with your little girl.”

“Yes, of course.” She began to write.

“Include the men who have visited since le Grand Guignol opened, and before that anyone who caused you any difficulty.” When she finally paused, he added, “Mention also if any delivery people acted peculiarly.”

Dancier made an exasperated sound. “Everyone gawks.”

Michel turned to him, “Many would enjoy having a peek inside such a controversial theatre—or seeing a lovely actress. But it must be investigated.”

She nibbled a nail and Michel prompted, “Has anyone shown your daughter a little too much attention?”

“Oh no.” Lalou shook her head. He sighed inwardly, doubting she would have noticed anything but the most flagrant disregard of her own charms. But then she bent over the paper and scribbled another name at the bottom. She gave Dancier a last nervous glance and handed the list to Michel.

Copying it gave him a chance to look for names he recognized without showing any response. First he went to the last scribble, and saw cabinet minister Williquette. Lilias believed he had engineered Vipèrine’s release and wanted to attend the Black Mass. This made him a new suspect in the abductions, one totally separate from the Revenants. But the minister’s penchant was for pubescent girls with budding curves. Michel copied Lalou’s list in the order of his own interest, then placed it beside her on the dressing table. He singled out a name he knew, a financier with a bad reputation but only for roughing up women. When he pointed to him, Lalou made a moue of distaste. “He came once. I was polite, no more.”

He pointed to another name, trying to be casual.