Page 6 of Infernal Vices

CHAPTER 3

INTERROGATION

While the two constables went about their duties, Detective Inspector Dancer said he wanted to ask Troy some initial questions. He was about in my house, alone, for several minutes and then returned the parlour. He sat heavily in an armchair and let out a sigh, then gestured for me to take the settee opposite. My collar seemed too tight and I felt warm even though the parlour was frigidly cold.

“Very well,” I said and sat where directed. I needed to steel myself, to focus on my highest good, and protect my past and present lovers from suspicion.

“Mr. Hannan. I have questions for you regarding this inquiry and I’d be grateful if you would be as frank as possible. Your answers may well reveal the identity of this villain.”

“Are you not taking notes?” I queried, confused at seeing Dancer remain with his hands clasped across his stomach, those vulpine eyes affixed on me.

“Oh no. I’ve a mind like a steel trap.” He clapped his hands together for effect and made me twitch in my seat, and then he grinned at having startled me. “I enjoy puzzles,” Dancer continued, “and I remembereverything. You never do know how the smallest details might just be the key to solving a case. I am most determined to finger this particular cracksman!”

Dancer appeared to be a worthy opponent for my brilliant Sebastian. And that realization was worrisome.

Dancer began his interrogation with a benign question. “How many people reside in this house?” I’d read Conan Doyle’s novels and noted how the detective in his books began by dissecting witnesses with easy questions first. Dancer was luring me into a false sense of security. But I would not be toyed with!

“Six. My housekeeper and two maids have rooms in the attic, my houseman’s quarters are in the basement, my valet has a room on the second floor, and my private rooms are on the first floor.”

“No Mrs. Hannan?” Quizzical eyes settled upon me and I gave the man a furious glare.

“No. And I don’t see what business that is of yours.” I snapped, regretting my harsh tone as the words left my lips. “I do not see how such an impertinent question could help to find the villain!” My gaze was affixed on Dancer’s eyes and I saw his mouth hitch at the corner. That outburst had done me no good at all. He was riling me and my sharp reaction was exactly what he’d wanted to achieve.

“Apologies, apologies,” Dancer raised his hands placatingly. “You are a…confirmed bachelor.” His eyes brightened full of curiosity.

I knew, oh I knew exactly what he was insinuating. “I have no wish to marry and I do not see what my lack of a wife has to do with apprehending a burglar!” I reiterated unable to stand his honeyed gaze upon me. I stood and moved to the mantle. Dancer remained silent and watchful. I pinched the bridge of my nose. This headache was getting worse.

“Forgive me. This has been quite the rude awakening and I have not yet had a bite of breakfast.” I turned and met his gaze offering him a wan smile.

Dancer was tapping a finger pensively on his lower lip, as if deep in thought. “I understand that such questioning can be trying. I won’t keep you too long.” He paused before saying, “I’d like to ascertain the facts. And the facts are that a crime occurred in your home, a considerable amount of silver was taken, and no one, apart from your valet, saw or heard a thing. The first imperative was to consider your Mr. Troy as the thief, and his story mere fiction.”

“No!” I turned from the mantle and glared daggers at the man. “That is outrageous! Mr. Troy has been with me for years. He is an exemplary servant and good, Christian man—”

Again, Dancer held his hands up to calm me.

“Atkins searched Troy’s room before I arrived and no silver was found.”

Damn the man, I’d sent him to the kitchen for tea, and yet he’d been poking around without my consent.

“I noticed his shoe size is also smaller than that of the thief, and so I’m mollified as to his part in this sorry tale. I do believe he happened upon the crime in progress as he initially attested.”

I relaxed a little at hearing that Troy was not considered to be involved in the thievery.

“My primary concern is to understand the thief’s motivation. What do you think that is, Mr. Hannan?”

“What do I think?” I exclaimed gruffly, “What do I think?” I repeated, unnerved by the twists and turns of Dancer’s questioning. “Clearly his motivation is the same as any other sneak-thief. He is in need of money and means to profit from the sale of my silver.” I was having trouble holding onto the reins of my temper with this impertinent man.

“Hmm, that is one motivation, but what about fear? Fear is also a potent motivator, is it not? A man living in fear can be persuaded to do the most ghastly things to rid himself of the anchor of that fear.”

“Indeed, fearful men are open to manipulation.”

“Yes, yes, that is a good way to phrase it, manipulation. I’ve also seen how the act itself, how the theft can be a warning to the victim. The blaggard has found entrance to the victim’s private sanctuary once, what’s to stop him doing so again?” Dancer said drolly.

“Detective Inspector Dancer, are you trying to vex me?” I demanded, appalled by such a notion.

“Forgive me; I have a tendency to speak my mind.” The man grinned then, grinned like a blasted Cheshire cat!

“I suggest you have the locks changed,” he continued conversationally.