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There was a hidden insult in his statement but I brushed it aside. “Like I said, this isn’t a social call Mr. Rozier,” I said curtly.
He shot me an angry look. “All visits to a man’s home are social no matter the business,” he said firmly. “You’d do best to remember that, young man.”
“I know this is uncomfortable,” I said, determined not to sound apologetic. “It is for both of us. But I need to know.”
He sipped at his drink. “I’m sorry, Thomas. It’s not my place to get involved in family affairs. If you want to know anything more you’ll have to ask your father.”
“Please…my intention is not to harm her. I just want to know who she is.”
“Why?”
“Because this can affect the family.”
“Let it go.”
“I can’t. A secret like this can’t be kept forever.”
“Do you plan on telling it?”
“That would be unwise.”
“Then why do you care? What your father does and who he does it with is none of your business. If he wanted you to know it, he would have told you.”
“Does this mean you’re not going to tell me?”
“So you can confront her and create all kinds of chaos?” he said sharply. “No, you’re going to have to look elsewhere for that information.”
I could see that he was determined to keep what he knew to himself. “I see,” I said. “You keep my father’s secrets, he keeps yours.
His face fixed into a frown. “What are you talking about?”
“Every man has a secret, Mr. Rozier,” I said. “Sometimes more than one. At least that’s what Miss Lizzie says. And she’s got quite a knack for seeing the truth in things. I guess that’s why women come to her when they have questions about their husbands and the like. I suspect Mrs. Rozier has heard a thing or two about Lizzie’s gifts.”
Rozier’s face hardened even further. “Then perhaps Lizzie is the one you should have gone to instead of me.”
“I wanted to be discreet about this, but I may have to,” I said, quickly grabbing my topcoat and heading for the door.
“Marie,” he burst out.
I stopped. “Marie Leveraux,” he said.
“Where does she live?”
He hesitated and then said, “509 Royal Street. But you didn’t hear this from me, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Because if you tell anyone what I told you I’ll make sure your life is a living hell.”
“Yes, sir.”
Grateful for the information, I left without a moment’s pause. I had just received my first lesson in the art of persuasion.
Chapter Ten
I knocked on the door of 509 Royal Street and a dark-skinned woman appeared. She frowned when I asked to see Miss Levereaux.
“Is she expecting you?”
