“Madame Gruzinsky?” she called.
“The furnishings in this establishment are all rather shabby,” said Sophia. “Perhaps the latch didn’t catch when she left.”
Perhaps.But as Arianna drew in a breath, her unease grew sharper.
“I’ll go first,” she whispered. “Stay behind me.”
The draperies were drawn shut, but a tiny gap between them let in a dribble of sunlight. It was the only illumination in the sitting room, and the first thing Arianna noticed was a single candle on a stand by the door, its greasy tallow burned down to a stub.
She shifted her gaze, studying the surroundings. Two large upholstered armchairs set side by side dominated the space. They faced a low tea table made of age-darkened oak. The only other furniture was a small writing desk and slat-back chair wedged into the near corner. Several sturdy canvas traveling valises lay open beside the armchairs.
Inside she could see a jumble of accessories—shawls, hair ribbons, kidskin gloves. The usual assortment of necessities that one would bring on a journey.
“Nothing looks out of the ordinary,” whispered Sophia.
Arianna frowned as she spotted several pieces of paper beneath the desk and moved quickly to take a closer look. As she crouched down to retrieve them, she saw there were a few dark smudges along the edges.
After she touched her thumb to the paper, her heartbeat began to quicken.
A notebook and a folder of letters were on the desktop, and both looked as though someone had done a hurried search through them.
“What—” began Sophia, but Arianna waved her to silence and pointed to the bedroom door.
It was slightly ajar.
Sophia gave a grim nod of understanding and raised her brows in question. Arianna hesitated, cocking an ear as she considered their next move.
All was still, save for the faint creaking of the attic joists.
She rounded the armchairs and ventured another few steps closer to the door. There was no sign of life from inside the room.
Holding her breath, Arianna crept forward and pressed her fingertips to the paneled wood. With a whispery creak, it swung open, and then the space settled back into silence.
“There doesn’t appear to be anyone here,” observed Sophia, coming up behind her. As in the sitting room, the draperies in the bedroom were drawn, but just enough light slipped through the folds to allow them to make out the ghostly contours of the room.
Set at a right angle to the doorway, a four-poster bed with a carved headboard jutted out into the center of the room, its sheets and covering still rumpled from sleep. Arianna glanced around—a chest of drawers, a washstand, a half-open country pine armoire for cloak and gowns—before entering.
“Shall I go open the draperies?” asked Sophia, crinkling her nose. “I can’t say that I’m impressed with the housekeeping. I suspect there are mice . . .”
Arianna was quite sure the odor hanging heavy in the room wasn’t caused by mice.
“Yes,” she replied to her friend as she edged around the bed. Her fears were quickly confirmed by the body lying face-up on the blood-stained rug. Crouching down, she felt for a pulse, though the wound just beneath the woman’s left breast showed a single knife thrust had pierced her heart.
A strangled hiss from Sophia caused Arianna to look up. “The lady is dead,” she said, “and has been for several hours.”
Her friend was no stranger to violent death on the battlefield or in the heat of a chase. But she had no experience in stumbling over murder victims. It was, Arianna knew, a different sort of shock. Especially when one had been laughing and conversing with the corpse just the previous evening.
“Dear God,” added Sophia.
“I take it this is Madame Gruzinsky?” asked Arianna, moving her gaze from the woman’s sightless eyes to the emptied jewelry box and reticule lying beside the body.
“Yes.” Sophia steadied her voice and stared at the items scattered helter-pelter on the floor. “What a horrible twist of Fate to fall prey to a random robbery.”
“I don’t think it was a robbery,” replied Arianna, fingering a diamond brooch that had tangled in the fringe of the rug. “There look to be a number of expensive pieces of jewelry here.” She sat back on her haunches. “It would appear that the killer was looking for something specific.” A pause. “The papers on the desk in the sitting room had bloody fingerprints on them.”
“But . . .” A tight swallow. “Butwhat?”
“A good question.” Arianna carefully lifted the jewelry box and inspected it for any hidden compartment. “You said the baroness was being coy about her reason for visiting London. It seems there may have been a good reason.”
