The police arrived half an hour later and led most of us to Father's office.
Mother apologized and said she couldn't go; she needed to keep working on the maids schedule. The police told her not to worry but asked her if she could allow an officer to go to the maid's quarters to interrogate her and the rest of the women. Mother agreed, so she and a policeman walked away.
Inside my father's office, the sergeant in charge of the case sat us down while sending several officers to question the rest of the staff and the hotel guests.
He said that usually, in the case of a disappearance after a celebration, the most common situation was people getting lost because of intoxication. But as Will's wallet was found in unusual circumstances and he was also known to be rich, there could be a chance that a third party could be involved. Robbery, assault, or kidnapping was not out of the question. Still, the chances of that being the case were relatively smaller.
"So, Mister Arlington," the sergeant asked, his voice raspy and deep, holding a small notebook and a pen. "When was the last time you saw your friend?"
"The last time I saw Will was at my party. He was in the dining room, along with some of our friends. Most of them were talking, eating or drinking....juice," Peter said, trying to keep the consumption of alcohol at the party hidden from the police, as it was certainly not something that had come from the hotel vault.
"He was mostly having a good time," he continued, "while I talked with my cousin and friends inside the kitchen."
"So he spent the whole time at the table?" The man asked.
Peter told him he didn't know about that, just that he was talking with the party guests and moving around the suite the whole time, and he kept seeing Will at the table.
"So, you spend the whole night at the suite?" asked the sergeant.
To which Peter said no, explaining what him and I had done. This caused my father to look at me, upset, as he had been told by the guard I had gone to the kitchen and not to this solitary location with Peter. Peter looked at my father, who stared disappointed at us and apologized, explaining the impasse to the police.
"I lied about going somewhere with Mister Dullard's daughter," Peter told the policeman. "But we just spent a few minutes looking at the city and talking, nothing else."
"Alright. But did you see William Ford after you came back?" asked the man, writing the answers on his pad with extreme agility.
"No sir, I began opening presents with my cousin and a friend, Miss Minnie Hannigan. Then I went to bed."
"Went to bed with her," I thought, still a tad jealous.
The sergeant nodded at the young man and proceeded to ask me about Will. I explained that just like Peter, I had noticed Will hanging out at the dining room table, but unlike him, I had spent a while at the table myself, enjoying my drink and listening to the other guests' conversations.
"Was he alone?" the policeman asked me, "or was he with someone else?"
I thought about it for a few moments and suddenly remembered what was so special about that night, besides spending alone time with Peter and being upset by Miss Hannigan.
"Will was talking to a woman," I said, and the police ears perked up.
"Can you describe her for me," the man asked." What was she wearing? Was she a guest, a friend, a stranger?"
"She was Asian. Don't know which country. Korea, perhaps? Beautiful, young, elegant," I said, remembering that night. "She was wearing a dress that looked old but quite expensive. So perhaps she is a guest. I have seen her before, though."
YOU ARE READING
Of Silk and Death.
Mystery / ThrillerSixteen-year-old Sarah Dullard lives in the New York of the roaring twenties, spending her summers at the luxurious Arlington Hotel, where her parents work. But the summer of 1928 brings something different. First, the arrival of Peter Arlington, th...