A Drowned Maiden's Hair_ A Melodrama - Laura Amy Schlitz [86]
Maud took in her breath to tell a lie and exhaled before she could think of one. She went straight to the point. “Do you know where Mrs. Lambert is?”
“Mrs. Lambert?” Rory sat up and rubbed the palm of his hand over his chin. He yawned. “She thought there was something the matter with you. I guess she was right.”
Maud repeated, “Do you know where —”
Rory interrupted her. “What happened to you?”
Maud sighed. “The house was on fire, and I had to crawl through a hole.”
“On fire.” Rory took this in. “I heard the bells last night.” He rubbed his eyes. “Anybody hurt?”
“I don’t think so,” Maud said patiently, “but I have to find Mrs. Lambert. Do you know where she lives?”
“Duckling,” Rory said pathetically, “I haven’t had so much as a drop of coffee.” He fumbled in his trouser pocket. “Do you know Vicelli’s?”
Maud shook her head.
“You go out the side gate” — Rory pointed — “few steps to the left, and across the boardwalk, that’s Vicelli’s. You tell them Rory Hugelick wants a sausage roll and a cuppa coffee.” He handed her a quarter. “Bring back the change. After I’ve had my coffee, we’ll talk about Mrs. Lambert. All right?”
“All right,” conceded Maud.
She returned shortly afterward, balancing a tin plate on top of a mug of coffee. Rory Hugelick had tidied away his blanket roll and was polishing the brass on the carousel. When he saw Maud, he sat down and patted the platform next to him. “Good girl.” He took a draft of coffee. “First things first. You got some nasty cuts and scrapes. You put anything on ’em?”
“No.”
“You been in the ocean this morning?”
“Yes.” Maud felt her face grow hot. “I had to wash off.”
“That’ll do, then.” He took a bite of the sausage roll. “There’s nothing so good for cuts as salt water. My mother used to say —” He broke off as Maud’s stomach emitted a growl. “You had anything to eat th’s’morning?”
Maud considered lying. “No,” she said humbly.
“Poor little devil.” Rory broke his sausage roll in half. “You eat that and you’ll feel better. And here — take a sip of coffee.”
Maud accepted gratefully. The taste of the coffee was bitter beyond anything she had imagined, but after grimacing through the first mouthful, she wanted another. The sausage roll reeked of garlic. Maud wrinkled her nose at it, nibbled, and decided it wasn’t so bad after all.
“Now, what’s this about Mrs. Lambert?”
“She’s got Muffet.” Rory looked bewildered. “I don’t mean she stole her or anything. Muffet’s the name of our hired girl. When the house was on fire, Muffet tried to get back in the house, but she couldn’t — and she fainted, I guess, and Mrs. Lambert took her away in the carriage. So I need to see her.”
“Wait a minute.” Rory held up a hand to stop her. “Where’s the rest of your folks?”
“They’re with Mrs. Lambert. The house was on fire so they went home with her, too.”
“Why didn’t you go with them?”
“They didn’t see me.” Maud averted her face. “They didn’t know I got out.”
“You mean to say there’s people who think you died in that fire?”
“I guess so. I don’t know.”
Rory set down his coffee mug. “Look here, duckling. You’re not telling me the whole truth. It’s not that I don’t believe you — I can smell the smoke on you — but there’s something else going on, something damned queer from the sound of it, and I want to know what it is.”
Maud said slowly, “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time,” countered Rory Hugelick. “The park don’t open till ten. Come on, duckling, out with it. Otherwise, you can forget about me telling you where Mrs. Lambert lives, because I’m not doing it.”
Maud took another bite of sausage roll. She chewed meticulously, trying to buy time. Rory would not be easy to fool. She fished for a lie that would account for her present situation and found that her mind was blank. She was all lied out. She couldn’t seem to get interested in keeping any more secrets or protecting the Hawthorne sisters. The night before,