The Detective and the Woman Read Online Free PDF Page A

knew that I would not miss him.
    After I had finished packing my possessions, with widely varying degrees of efficiency, I considered the metal safe tucked in the back of the closet. It contained my personal funds and the one piece of fine jewellery I carried with me, a diamond necklace I had inherited from my mother when I was a child in New Jersey. I had a sizeable portion of money in my personal possession at all times, a practice Slade deplored as being unsafe. This, too, was most likely a result of the confines of my marriage, but even before my nuptials, I had been wary. I did not like to be at the mercy of others any more than was absolutely necessary. Slade had no idea how adept I could be at defending myself, should the need arise. I decided to leave the safe opening for the morning, and I decided not to tell Holmes about the money. Wiser to keep something to myself in case of emergencies. He had tried to beat me once and only lost on a knife’s-point. I could not afford to trust my wits alone to save me again.
    Before I slept, I set the alarm clock for 6:30. The theatre would not expect me until at least 3:00 in the afternoon, and my only other engagement was lunch with Slade and an enthusiastic music lover at 12:30. If all went to plan, I would be far gone and my manager paid off before anyone recognised my absence. Sleep was long in coming, but I didn’t mind. Excitement hadn’t kept me awake for quite some time.
    * * *
    Ding I was fighting a black dress that wouldn’t stop wrapping its silky, choking arms around me. Ding The corpse on the table kept talking to me, endlessly, about where to place my assets, but it was the corpse of the king of Bohemia with the voice of Sherlock Holmes. Ding I fought to the surface, emerging into the smell of stale cigars and the feel of silken bedsheets. I arose quickly, washing my face in the porcelain basin and dressing myself in a plain brown shirtwaist and long tan skirt. I rang for the porter, a near-child, as soon as I was decent and requested a light breakfast, which I ate as quickly as possible. I rang for him. once again, and when he arrived I instructed him to take my trunk to the lobby. ‘Are you going away, Miss Adler?’ he asked curiously, fingering his forelock. The hotel staff had been told I was some sort of musical celebrity, and they were aware that I had been engaged for a run at the theatre, a run in these parts usually being construed as anything more than one night. ‘I need my things at the theatre tonight,’ I answered with a ready smile. ‘Someone from there will come by to pick it up.’ This satisfied the boy, and he took it willingly after being handed a few coins. I was glad that Holmes had entrusted me with a few unmentioned details. At least he trusted my judgement that much.
    My last act before leaving the room for the final time was to open the safe. I had an irrational, uncomfortable feeling that the contents might have disappeared during the night, but there they were, as snug as ever. I secreted the roll of American money in a pouch I carried close to my body underneath my clothing. The necklace I put on, taking care to hide it completely under the high collar of my practical shirtwaist. I picked up my reticule and proceeded downstairs, stopping in the lobby to enquire after a cab ‘for the theatre.’ The white-haired steward behind the small desk smiled uncomfortably widely and replied in the hushed tones of a doctor addressing an elderly hysteric. News of my ‘fame’ and generous pocketbook must have reached all quarters, I reasoned. He promised me a coach as soon as one could be procured, and I settled in to wait, noting from my watch that I still had half an hour to make the train station, which was only about ten minutes’ ride away. I sat down in a faded brocade chair and studied the place, a mixture of American innovation and tasteless nods to old-world finery, emphasizing the worst of each, from the wallpaper (peeling at the