Around noon, Peter and I walked down the stairs into the shopping section with George. As we took note of the large number of police officers who guarded the shops, we entered the men's tailor shop.
The tailor and the sellers were complete sweethearts to dear George. They knew that Peter and him were the direct relatives of Angus Arlington, so they had both power and a large amount of money to spend.
As George was being attended, I stood there, talking to Peter while looking for a possible new tuxedo. Suddenly, Peter turned to me from looking at tuxedo shirts and whispered.
"I think I have an idea," he said, pretending to show me a nice bone-colored shirt.
"An idea for what?" I said, pretending to evaluate it.
"What can we do with all these coppers," he said, smiling.
"Interesting. What do you have in mind?"
"I saw a few people from the other floors leaving the hotel," he said, placing the shirt back on the rack. "I don't know if it is because of the incident or because they were finishing their stay. That's not the point."
"Alright?" I nodded, waiting for his point to be made.
"What if I rent a room for you?" he asked, smiling.
"For me?" I asked, shocked.
"Yes, you told me your father gave you money for a dress, right?" He said, taking another shirt and placing it against his chest, looking at himself in the mirror.
"What if I book a room for you, so you don't have to go home and change? They won't deny me."
"Peter, It's not necessary," I said, laughing, embarrassed.
"I think it would be better if you stay. It would be less likely for you to get caught with the gun," Peter said, returning the shirt and turning to me. "Also, the room can be our new headquarters. No officers outside the door."
"Oh, right! I didn't think about that!" I said.
I was so stupid to believe he would book a room just for me for no reason, but I was also stupid for not noticing the hole in our plan if I left to go home and change.
"That's an excellent idea. You are brilliant."
"I know," he said, smiling proudly, and then began walking to see how his cousin was doing.
I followed behind, walking around the store's racks of suits, coats, and hats. We came out to a large open part of the store, where a three-piece mirror was set for gentlemen to look at themselves, especially when their suits were tailored to their specific measurements.
"I don't know if I like it," George complained, looking at himself in the mirror. I agreed that with the old look, the young man didn't look that good, but he would look much better with a new haircut and shave.
"Why?" Peter said. "You look great!"
"It might be too fancy for me," George said, pouting unsatisfied. "It's more your style. A party boy sorta look."
"I think it's perfect!" I said, walking next to George, touching the fabric suggestively. "You look so handsome, like a prince!"
"I do?" George looked at me, blushing slightly.
I nodded proudly, and his face lit up like a beacon. So he agreed to wear the suit, but when the tailor told him the price of the suit, his face fell apart.
"Two hundred dollars! That's really expensive!" he said, hesitating.
Peter and I looked at each other in concern.
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...