Leo took a few cautious steps into the alley. At first, the gate appeared to be shut. But coming closer, she spied a brick on the ground, wedged to prop the gate open an inch. Enough to keep it from latching shut.
She should not go any farther, and truly, in her heart, she knew peeking past the propped gate would be deemed highly reckless by a certain Scotland Yard detective inspector. Still, she pulled on the gate, slowly and carefully, listening for the squealing of rusted hinges. It was silent, however, and when she peered into the gated half of the alley, it was empty.
No farther, Leocame Jasper’s stern voice in her mind.
Leo pulled back, allowing the gate to rest against the brick again.
She’d been so focused on whether the gate’s hinges would make noise and give her away that she had not considered any sounds might come from behind her.
Too late, her instinct sensed a presence at her back. As before, with Gavin Seabright, a hard object nudged her between her shoulder blades. This time, however, Leo knew it was not the harmless neck of a glass beer bottle.
“I do wish you would have ceased your investigating, Miss Spencer. This is going to be quite unpleasant for us both.”
Chapter Twenty
“Open the gate,” the smooth voice behind her commanded. The deluge of shock that coursed from the top of Leo’s scalp down the back of her neck to her spine kept her from complying immediately. The gun’s muzzle between her shoulder blades nudged harder.
“Do not think I am playing, Miss Spencer. The gate. Now.”
Cursing herself for her heedless curiosity, Leo obeyed. She opened the gate, the newspaper she’d tucked under her arm coming free and fluttering to the ground. With another jab of the muzzle, Leo stepped through.
The gate closed and latched behind them without the weapon being removed from her back. Leo peered over her shoulder at her assailant.
In her first meeting with Esther Goodwin, the older woman had been seated on a settee, her choice of dress cumbersome enough to conceal that she was, in fact, quite tall. Taller than Leo, at any rate. Esther had exuded soft grace and elegance, and a slight degree of frailty. However now, her callous expression made it perfectly clear that she was, like her son, a proficient actor.
She urged Leo toward an open back door leading into the theatre. “Inside,” she ordered, her tone no longer timorous as it had been at Gunnerson’s Rest Home.
The darkened mouth of the open doorway swallowed them, and when the door shut, Leo could no longer see. At the soft hiss of gas igniting, a flare of light brightened where they stood in a narrow backstage corridor. Here, numerous shipping crates, folded swathes of painted backdrops, racks of costumes, and all manner of stage props such as chairs, a dining room table, and divan, were all shoved aside to create a thin passageway for the actors to traverse.
“Don’t tarry, Miss Spencer,” Esther commanded, giving another thrust of the revolver into her back to prompt Leo to move.
As she walked ahead, the danger of the situation pressed in on her from all sides. No one knew where she was. She had no weapon to defend herself. And she presumed she was about to meet again the man who’d abducted her a few days ago.
Defeatism and panic weren’t going to help her, however. Leo had been in a few tight spots before, and she’d managed to use her wits to ease herself out of them. Then again, during those times, she had been with Jasper.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked Esther, if only to escape her own spiraling thoughts.
They’d reached the stage, where wine-red brocade curtains had been drawn together to hide a view of the house seats.
Esther didn’t answer. Instead, once they’d crossed the stage to another narrow back corridor, Leo was ordered to turn right. Straight ahead, the opening to a spiral stairwell led down to the pit under the stage, she presumed. To the left, a door was open to another room, already bright with lamplight.
Esther shepherded her into this room, which appeared to be an office. Inside, they joined Paula Blickson and George Hayes.The latter, Leo assessed quickly with a spring of her heart. The boy was seated on an old sofa, his eyes slightly unfocused as he peered at her. He did not flinch when Esther slammed the office door shut behind them.
“George? Are you all right?” Leo went toward him, but Paula, who’d been at the desk counting a stack of bank notes, darted forward.
“Stay away from him!” she shrieked.
Leo pulled back, and Paula sent an alarmed stare toward Esther. “Aunt, what are you doing? Who is this woman?”
“Did you dose the boy with laudanum?” Leo asked. To subdue him, perhaps? To keep him from running away.
“This is the nosy woman detective I told you about,” Esther replied, remaining in front of the closed door. “I saw her through the lobby windows while I was waiting for you to return. She recognized you and followed you to the alley gate.”
The little flutter of pride that Esther Goodwin had referred to her as adetectivewas poorly timed, but Leo felt it, nonetheless.
Paula’s wide brown eyes looked pointedly at the revolver in her aunt’s hand. “But why did you bring her in here? And what are you doing with that thing?”
“I couldn’t allow her to leave, could I?” Esther hissed. “She found you. Followed you.”
