Death at the Theatre: Miss Hart and Miss Hunter Investigate: Book 2 Read Free

a bony jaw and an Adam’s apple that bobbed up and down as he spoke. Verity and I exchanged glances.
    “Would it be possible to talk somewhere a little quieter?” I asked. I had to get out of the room before Tophat pointed me out as ‘another officer’.
    Verity put a fluttering hand to her throat. “We’ve been trapped here with that – that corpse for what seems like hours, officer.” She sounded weak and feeble, as if she was on the verge of collapse.
    The policeman looked flustered. “Of course, of course. Follow me and we’ll try and find somewhere for you ladies to sit down.”
    “Oh, thank you, officer,” Verity said breathily. Despite my anguish at being unmasked as a fraud, I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from giggling. Talk about me going on the stage – with Verity,  theatre’s loss was domestic service’s gain.
    The policeman ushered us out of the Gods and towards the stairs. We were just coming to the top step of the flight when both Verity and I simultaneously saw who was walking up the stairs towards us. He looked just as he had when I’d last seen him, over a year ago now, dressed in his customary black suit with his beard and moustache neatly trimmed.
    Inspector Marks caught sight of us both a second later and actually stopped dead, causing a minor pile-up in the group of people behind him. He took no notice. I could tell he recognised us straight away.
    Verity and I stood on the landing like spare parts, waiting for the inspector to reach our level, which he did in just a few steps.
    “Well, well, well.” Inspector Marks’ gaze went from my face to Verity’s. For some reason, I found myself blushing. “Miss Hart and Miss Hunter. What in Heaven’s name are you two ladies doing here?”
    The police officer who’d escorted us from the room was looking from us to the inspector as if watching a tennis match. Inspector Marks noted this and smiled at the man pleasantly. “Thank you, officer—“
    He raised his eyebrows and the policeman stammered out, “Constable Watkins, sir.”
    “Constable Watkins, of course. Thank you for bringing these ladies this far, but I can take them from here.”
    “Yes, sir. Of course, sir.” Constable Watkins almost bobbed a curtsey as he turned and scurried back into the Gods. I didn’t dare look at Verity for laughing.
    Inspector Marks waited until he was out of earshot and then turned back to us, the smile dying on his face. “Please tell me you girls aren’t mixed up in this?”
    “We were only watching a play,” Verity said indignantly. “That’s all. It wasn’t our fault somebody got stabbed to death virtually in front of us.”
    Inspector Marks looked at both of us in turn. “Is that what happened?”
    He turned to me, then and gave me the look I remembered well. It’s hard to describe but it was as if he really saw me – as if he was the only person ever to really see me, as I was and without judgement or criticism, or finding me wanting. It had warmed me before and it warmed me now.
    “Yes,” I said. “That’s what it looked like to me. I think someone sat behind him, in the row behind him, and stabbed him through the back of the chair.”
    Inspector Marks’s eyebrows rose. “Indeed, Miss Hart. Well, I’ll see for myself in a minute.” He stood back a little. “I’ll talk to you ladies later. No, indeed, tomorrow.” He glanced at the gold watch he wore on one wrist. “It’s getting late and I’ll wager you girls have work to do.” Verity and I exchanged a rueful glance. Inspector Marks went on. “I’ll let that young constable take a brief statement from both of you and you can be on your way. But—“ His voice became emphatic. “I will have to speak to you both again.”
    “Of course, sir,” I said. “We understand.”
    The inspector smiled. “You always do, Miss Hart.” He shook his head for a moment. “You’re wasted in your job, you know. Both of you.”
    And with that startling statement, he