Capturing the Devil (Stalking Jack the Ripper #4)(97)

“What I was about to say, Miss Wadsworth,” he said, amusement in his dark eyes, “was she must not have been looking too hard. I haven’t been anywhere but my theater. In fact, I went to call on her today and her staff couldn’t find her.

Maybe she couldn’t handle seeing a face this handsome again.”

He glanced over my shoulder to where Thomas now leaned against the wall looking bored. I shook a sense of foreboding from my heart. I’d seen Minnie a couple of hours ago and she seemed fine enough. If he’d visited her after, that meant he was the last person known to be at her home. Maybe she saw him arrive and asked her staff to send him away. Or maybe he’d taken her…

“I did, however, manage to gather some information you both may find interesting,” Mephistopheles continued, unaware of my growing worry.

“Oh, good. It has a purpose for crawling out from its hidey-hole at last.”

Thomas smiled sweetly, his eyes flashing with delight as Mephistopheles’s jaw tightened.

“Weren’t you the groveling soul who inquired after my expertise?” he said.

“What other tasks are you not measuring up to? Or”—a slick, antagonistic smile spread across his face—“might I ask Audrey Rose instead?”

“Enough!” I exclaimed. “You’re both infantile. Stop provoking each other and focus. What did you learn, Ayden?”

Perhaps it was the use of his true name, but I finally held the ringmaster’s full attention. “Very well, then.” He picked imaginary lint off his suit, his expression hurt. “There are two women and one child who were last seen in the Englewood

neighborhood of 63rd and Wallace Streets. Some were known to be associated with a pharmacy there.”

Any excitement or hope I’d felt withered. This wasn’t anything new. We’d already visited the pharmacy and the police couldn’t find any signs of a crime.

My shoulders slumped forward. I was suddenly exhausted. We didn’t even know for certain if Noah’s missing women were related to our case, though I still believed they were.

“Thank you for—”

“I have people—let’s call them information specialists—who also mentioned something about the World’s Fair.”

“How original.” Thomas crossed his arms. “Who isn’t talking about it?”

“The better question to ask yourselves is not who, but what. What aren’t they saying about the fair? What do they worry about when those pretty little lights dim? It couldn’t possibly be the blood they found near the docks. Or the bloody handkerchief outside the great, impressive Court of Honor.”

Mephistopheles lifted his hat from the ram’s-head mask, tumbled it down his arm, and stuck it on his head with a carnival-inspired flourish. It was hard to tell where the showman ended and the real young man underneath the sequined suits began. He might not be wearing a visible mask, but that did not mean he was without one now.

“Rumor has it… there’s a body. They’ve got it locked up tight in the morgue near Lake Michigan. The Columbian Guard stands outside the door, day and night.” He grinned at our stunned expressions. “Seems strange, doesn’t it? A police force created entirely for the fair to be guarding a body in a morgue.

Especially if she’s a nobody.”

“Speaking of bodies.” I eyed him suspiciously. “Minnie mentioned her understudy is missing. What have you heard about that?”

He hopped off my bed as gracefully as a panther and stalked close. “I’ve heard that body in the morgue might be hers. Now I need you to tell me for sure.”

I frowned at him. “You wouldn’t have come here if you wouldn’t benefit from the information, would you?” His answering smirk told me everything I needed to know about his motivations. “Don’t you ever do things out of decency?”

An ancient sadness filled his gaze for a moment, stretching far beyond what his nineteen years should know. Little hairs rose along my arms.

Then Mephistopheles blinked and his eyes were once again filled with mirth.

I must be in need of more rest than I thought. My nightmares were bleeding into my waking hours.

“I tried decency once.” He wrinkled his nose. “I wouldn’t recommend it.

Leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.”

“I thought that was just defeat,” Thomas added, trying and failing to not look smug. “I’ve heard that’s not so pleasant, either. Not that I’d know.”

With a seemingly great amount of restraint, Mephistopheles turned to me, taking my hand in his. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to my knuckles, his gaze locked on mine.

“I do hope you’re happy, Miss Wadsworth. And while I’d love to stay and be entertained by your court fool”—he flashed his teeth in what was supposed to be a smile at Thomas—“it’s time for me to go.”

I had a strange premonition that once he waltzed out that door, it would be the last time I set eyes on him. “You’re leaving for good, aren’t you? I thought the Moonlight Carnival only just arrived.”

“Have we, though… only just arrived?” A secret danced in his eyes, one he had no intention of sharing. His expression turned serious again. “Once blood starts flowing, even the most angelic of places loses its appeal, Miss Wadsworth.” His focus darted behind me. “Beware of trusting beautiful creatures. They hide the most wicked surprises.”