The tension in his shoulders dissolved as his stance slackened. “No news. I thought Mrs Francis might’ve felt sick and remained stuck somewhere, but that’s not the case. The only explanation for her absence is that she fell overboard. Norton is going to declare an incident as the official reason for her disappearance. Unfortunately, in cases like this, there isn’t much else that can be done. If she fell into the sea, recovering her body would be impossible.”
“Oh, no.” A cold sensation filled my stomach at the thought of poor Mrs Francis falling into the sea. I pressed the stained handkerchief against my chest. “I hope that isn’t what happened to her.”
Rennie’s gaze returned sharp. “What’s that?”
“What?” I glanced around.
“That stain.” He took my handkerchief, brushing my fingers in the process. A riot of emotions was displayed on his face as he examined the stain. He paled, then his facial muscles hardened. “What’s that?” he repeated.
“Something sticky and silver stained my finger, and I removed it with my?—”
“Where did you find it?”
“In the theatre.”
“Show me.” It was an order. But the urgency in his words didn’t make me argue.
We strode into the theatre. I led him towards the point in front of the orchestra pit where I’d found the blob.
“It’s here—” There was nothing on that spot. It was clean and pristine. I crouched and felt around. “I don’t understand. It was here. I swear it. A large blob of silver material.”
Rennie crouched next to me, his shoulder brushing mine. “I believe you.” He searched the floor and looked underneath the row of seats.
His thorough inspection lasted nearly twenty minutes. And then it dawned on me. He had done that before. Investigating. It was what he did for a living. He was a copper of some sort. No, he was an investigator of strange events, of occult events.
Another headache struck me. I rubbed my temples, wondering if my little escapade of yesterday had done more damage than I’d thought.
“Do you feel sick?” Rennie was next to me in a flash.
“Just a headache.” If I’d told him I was bleeding to death, he would have looked less worried.
“Headache?” He passed a hand over his face.
“Did you discover anything useful?” I asked to distract him.
“Yes.” He handed me the handkerchief. “And I have some bad news for you.”
