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It was clear from the way he stared at her, unblinking, that the detective had. He stepped aside to let her pass, earning a grateful smile from Rosa.
I moved to block her exit. “I felt sorry for you.”
“Please, Miss Fox. I only want to perform for my audience. Performing is all I have, now that Vernon is gone.”
“I felt sorry for you when you were in tears that day we came to question you. But you weren’t crying for Rigg-Lyon. You were crying because you had to make a choice about the baby you carried. Keep it and raise it alone, without his financial help, or abort it.”
Her lips parted in a gasp. “I didn’t murder him, Miss Fox. I merely went to the polo that day to talk to him and tell him about the baby. I lied about going, and I shouldn’t have. I know that now. But I was so ashamed.”
“You didn’t go there with the intention of telling him you were with child. He already knew. You told him when you called at his house after his wife went out. He was angry. Angry that you’d dared to show up there, and angry that you’d fallen pregnant. He didn’t want the child, and he didn’t want to marry you, even though he would be free to marry soon, given his wife was so ill.”
She pressed a hand to her stomach. “You can’t know any of that.”
“The staff overheard you arguing.” It wasn’t quite the truth. The staff claimed they were arguing, but couldn’t hear their words. Rosa didn’t need to know that I was guessing, however. “His wife was dying, and he was childless. You could step into her shoes and raise the child together. But he didn’t want that.”
“This is pure speculation. It was merely a lovers’ quarrel. I can’t even recall what it was about now.”
“It wasn’t insignificant. You’d never called at his house before, so something important warranted your visit that time.”
Rosa clasped Detective Fanning’s arm and blinked back tears. “You can’t believe her wild stories, sir. I’m innocent and I can prove it. But I must rehearse now and then prepare for the performance. Stay. Your men can keep watch over me to make sure I don’t leave. Then afterwards, I’ll prove to you I didn’t kill Vernon.”
The detective’s gaze shifted to me.
She touched his cheek, gently forcing him to look only at her. “I admit I was at the polo club, but did anyone see me with a brown coat and man’s hat? Did someone see me bury them?” When he didn’t respond, she released him. “There is no proof that the coat and hat you found belong to me. Let me rehearse, Detective. Then I will prove that I didn’t do it.”
“Prove it now,” I said. “If you can.”
She ignored me and blinked at Detective Fanning. She still looked close to tears, but I suspected that was because she didn’t have any proof, and she knew it.
But there was still hope for her. She was right about that. We couldn’t link the coat and hat to her. Without that proof, this performance could see her released if Detective Fanning believed her.
He moved aside. “We’ll be watching you, Miss Rivera. Straight onto the stage and straight off afterward. Understood?”
“Understood. Thank you, Detective. You are a good man.”
She grabbed a jacket off the back of her chair and put it on then left. The detective and constables followed her.
I sat on the chair at the dressing table and swore at my reflection. Rosa was going to get away with it.
Chapter17
Ilooked around the dressing room at the wigs and elegant gown Rosa wore on stage and fingered the sticks of stage makeup she used. She didn’t need makeup. She was beautiful without it, but I supposed it was necessary underneath the bright lights. The wigs, too, were for the shows. She had lovely natural black hair, but sometimes she had to play a character, hence the blonde wig or red-haired one.
She was good at playing characters. Detective Fanning believed her act of the innocent, vulnerable girl taken advantage of by Rigg-Lyon, a cad. A judge and jury might believe the act, too.
The dressmaker, Mrs. Warden, entered carrying a corset identical to the one hanging over the privacy screen. She hesitated upon seeing me. “Aren’t you the private detective?”
“I am. Are you looking for Miss Rivera? She’s rehearsing on stage.”
“Now? But I have her costume ready. She was supposed to try it on before approving it.”
“She said it’s time for her final rehearsal.”
She frowned. “She doesn’t need a final rehearsal. She has performed this same show so many times, she knows it by heart.”
I rose slowly. “That corset…did you have to let it out to accommodate her expanding waistline?”
She bit the inside of her lip.
