Ghosts by Gaslight - Jack Dann [150]
“And Mister Richmond? Does he also have secrets?”
“Everyone has secrets, Mister Prothero. I’m certain you have yours.”
“Why would you say that?”
“You’re not the first colleague of Mister Richmond’s to visit the house, but you are the first to reject my hospitality.” She tipped her head to the side, as if to see me more clearly. “You have a touch of the prude in you, but I believe your rejection was based on something else. Perhaps some tenet of your beliefs was involved . . . though not, I think, a religious principle.”
“You’re clever, aren’t you, Jane?”
“I know men,” she said. “Whether or not that demands cleverness is a topic for debate.”
“These men Richmond compelled you to sleep with, were . . .”
“I was not compelled. He asked me if I would lie with them. I could have refused.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“He needed my assistance.”
“How so?”
“I’ll let Mister Richmond decide whether or not to tell you about that.”
Fascinated by her poise and her obvious intelligence, I let a few moments slip past.
“You’re very loyal to Richmond,” I said. “Why is that?”
“I was loyal to Christine because she saved my life. She used me, it’s true, but then every human relationship is founded upon a bargain of some sort, and had she not taken me in, I would surely have come to a bad end. I’m loyal to Jeffrey, Mister Richmond, because I am now in his employ, and because I wish to help with his investigation.”
“And so, in order to gain information about them, you slept with men whom he believed might be guilty of the crime?”
She laughed. “You’ve found me out. Yes, for all the good it did.” After a pause, her voice acquired an edge. “I would have preferred to have been brought up in a decent home and lived an exemplary life, but though I regret my past I am not ashamed of it. I’ve done what I have in order to survive.”
I wondered why she bothered to explain herself. “Were these men members of the Inventors’ Club?” I asked.
“Some, yes. Perhaps all of them were. I’m not certain.”
The idea that the men had availed themselves of illicit pleasure at Richmond’s invitation and then reviled him for it—it conformed to my notions of upper-class duplicity.
“And tonight,” I said. “Did he ask you to help with me?”
Her lips thinned. “I think you have pried deeply enough into the subject.”
I stirred the fire with a poker. “How would you explain the resemblance between you and Christine . . . and Dorothea?”
“Christine was ever on the lookout for girls who took after her. When Dorothea happened along, she was delighted—that was the year before she died. She had a client who favored our type. Sometimes he’d have the two of us together . . . and sometimes he’d pay for Christine to join us, though she came dear.”
“Who was this client?”
She shook her head. “I never knew his name. He wore a mask that covered his head from brow to chin, except for his eyes and mouth. Not even Christine knew him. He had money and came highly recommended—that was enough for her.”
“Recommended by whom?”
“Another client, I believe. That’s all I know.”
“Did he bear any marks on his body that might distinguish him.”
“I don’t recall anything in particular.” She suppressed a smile.
“What is it?” I said. “If you remember a wart, a mole, some aberrant behavior or character trait, anything at all, it could be of immense value.”
“Well, he did like tipping the velvet. He never prigged me proper until he was sure I was satisfied.”
I may have blushed, for she shot me a mischievous look. Flustered, I told her that I thought it time for me to retire. As she crossed to the door, another question sprang to mind, but I had been unsettled by her boldness.
“I trust you will be available tomorrow?” I said.
“I have errands to accomplish during the day.” She put a hand on the doorknob and smiled sweetly. “In the evening, however, I will be here to serve you however I can.”
I SLEPT FITFULLY, inflamed by Jane’s bold manner and the glimpse I’d had of her breasts, and troubled