Of Lights and Shadows (Book 4)

22) On the Scent of a Clue

Dutch bought an umbrella. He just couldn't help it. He knew Dastardious would have laughed at him, but he didn't care. He didn't like getting wet. He was used to being inside, nice and dry, and never having to go outside, but with this job it was hard to know exactly where you needed to go next. Right now he was watching the rain drizzle down the window of the taxi he had caught earlier and his approaching destination which would require him to get out of the car. As it neared the theatre, Dutch prepared for the onslaught by gripping his umbrella tightly.

'Nasty weather we're having,' commented Dwight, the owner of the taxi, a man who liked to repeat things. That was the fifth time he had commented on how nasty the weather was.

'It is, rather,' agreed Dutch testily for the fifth time and opened the door as Dwight pulled to a stop. Dutch's umbrella clicked open and he stepped out under it, safe and dry from the rain. Almost. His umbrella wobbled dangerously as he tried to grip it at the same time as pulling his wallet out. It fell forwards in his attempt to count out the correct amount for his fare and water poured down its roof and sloshed down the back of his shirt. With a cry of defeat, he threw the umbrella to the ground and handed over the money to Dwight who received it cheerfully.

'Have a nice day,' the man wished Dutch as he rolled up the window.

'I doubt it,' muttered Dutch as he picked up his umbrella and turned to stare up at the theatre. It looked a lot different in daylight, though not so much seeing as it was still dark thanks to the heavy black clouds that sat overhead.

Feeling a chill running down his back, Dutch hurried into the alleyway and walked until he found the door he had entered by the night before. It was drier in the alley thanks to the overhanging roofs that prevented the rain from pouring down; instead, it rushed into the gutters and overflowed within the first minute of rain over the entrance like a waterfall.

No longer needing his umbrella, Dutch shook it off and, closing it, placed it against the wall before trying the door. It was locked. Of course it was. Did he really think it would have stayed unlocked after his arrest? Locking it was probably one of the first things they had done.

Turning around he surveyed his surroundings. It was the same, nothing had changed at all. There was the window of Sarah Earl's dressing room, which was open. He could see a light on inside and a woman's voice chatting, Mrs Earl presumably. No one was talking back to her so he again presumed that Silence must have arrived.

When they had left the Mourner's residence Dutch had asked to be taken to the nearest store that sold umbrellas. After they had arrived he suggested for Silence to go on ahead without him and he would follow as soon as he found what he was looking for.

Turning away from the window Dutch again tried the door, just in case it had become unlocked in the short couple of seconds since he had last tried it. No luck. He wondered briefly where the front door was as he gazed about for another entrance, pondering whether he could enter by that instead. Then he remembered that the footsteps went from the back door to the front door so it would be best to follow them in the direction they walked.

Glancing calmly on either side, Dutch took a step back from the door after he was sure he was alone he kicked the door next to the handle. There was a thud as the door shook, but it stayed firm. After another look around Dutch kicked again, this time there was a crack and the door caved in slightly around the lock. After a third kick there was another shudder, crack, and the door broke open. Before anyone came enquiring about the noise, Dutch stepped through and closed what was left of the door.

Once inside he bounded up the stairs and through the door at the top of them, which was unlocked just as it had been the other night, and moved quickly through the room. Before he reached the next door he became aware of the noise coming from behind it. Dutch froze in step as he listened. It wasn't a noise attempting to be quiet, it was loud and intentional, the sound of many men working hard to finish renovating a room. He couldn't understand it, it was Sunday. Weren't they supposed to take the weekend off like everyone else? Thinking about that, Dutch couldn't help thinking about the fact that he wasn't allowed a day off. Surely he was entitled to one, right? Placing that thought to the side, he walked up to the door and stopped to face it. He needed to get through, even if there were men on the other side. Opening the door he stepped through.