Alice stiffened, as a cold, heavy gloved hand fell on her shoulder. Slowly, gradually, her alarmed expression turned into her arrogant, mocking mask. The frown on her forehead straightened, the uneasy curve relaxed into a wide cat like grin. The turned around to meet face to face with a young man of twenty, with pale, almost milky skin, a haircut 'a la Oscar Wilde', and extremely handsome features.
- How may I help you? - Alice asked, watching with satisfaction how the young man leaned backwards, abashed.
- Oh, excuse me,- he apologised, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort,- I was expecting to see someone else.
- And who, if I may ask, were you waiting for?
The young man gave a short laugh:
- Oh, so that's what you are! I was meeting a friend here, if that would be of any satisfaction to you...
- By the name of?
- A girl detective, eh? Women always think they know better... How badly they are sometimes mistaken...- he finished the sentence with a deep sigh, and then, after a short pause, he added: Anyways, I'm the last person you would like to ask.
- But how wrong people can be!- Alice exclaimed with a note of mocking pathos.- Mon Ami, if you hadn't given yourself away by that poem, I may have believed you one bit... But alas, you did. Now, if you will kindly proceed with me to the police station... Or are you willing to answer my questions?
- Let us give them a try.
A light, but rather devilish smile touched Alice's lips. She took a deep breath, and posed the first question.
- Do you know Christabel Ferguson?
- In this little town, everyone knows everyone. So you might as well skip that kind of questions...
Not working? Let us try another method..- Alice thought. She, tracing the pattern of her skirt with a finger, sighed:
- Poor little Christabel... And with her illness...
The man's expression slipped into worried for a slight second, but he handled himself easily.
- I have had the honor to have been an acquaintance of Christabel, a charming young girl she is... But I know very little about her...
- That I doubt... But let us move onto the next question. Have you ever been introduced to Lydia Hardy?
- No.
- To Adrian Hardy?
- Never.
- What about Labina Kira?
- Doesn't ring a bell...
- I may be mistaken, but somehow I am strongly convinced that all men in this lovely town have had a chance of meeting her in a close way...- the young man looked into her longish, cat-like eyes, half hidden by the heavy eyelids.
- I haven't had that chance... I've been away for a while, you know. To France. A charming country it is!
Alice nodded in agreement:
- Ah, oui, it is...
- How long?
- You and your questions, Miss...?
- Riley. Alice Riley. The best detective you'll ever find,- Alice's tone was snobbish and business-like,- but I don't do love affairs.
- Miss Riley, do you not think that this might as well be a love affair?
-I'm sure it goes deeper than that... A very tangled love affair, it has to be... And again: How long have you been abroad...
- Two weeks.
- Oh... - Miss Riley's forehead puckered into a frown. The young man looked at his watch.
- Ah, it is quite late! I'm afraid I must be on my way...
- Indeed, it is imperative that I am, too- Alice remarked,- By the way, I forgot to ask, what is your name?
- Angus!- the man yelled, sprinting down the little street. Alice turned to leave, shivering, as a light breeze covered her skin with goosebumps. A sudden rustle in a bush nearby made her drop her clutch. She bent over to pick it up, and spotted a delicate glistening object nearby. It was an oval medallion with initials carved on it- C.F.
It was a medallion 'with a surprise', as Alice's mother used to call them. She forced it open, and inside, hardly visible in the dark, was a powder of a queer colour. Alice sniffed, holding the medallion a respectable distance away from the nose, but enough to catch the scent.
-Poison...- she murmured.
YOU ARE READING
Alice Riley: The falling veil
Gizem / GerilimBook one of The Alice Riley Mysteries. In Golden Fields, everyone lives their serene, respectable lives, keeping their secrets to themselves. Alas, when young, beautiful Lydia Hardy is brutally murdered, those dusty, half-forgotten secrets become an...