Alice Riley: The falling veil

Chapter three

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.