Page 58 of A Dangerous Vision

Mrs. Earnsley walked further into the townhouse and they followed. She led them to a lavishly furnished drawing room, filled with potted palms, settees, and plush gilded chairs.

“This is the main salon, and there’s another across the hall.”

“When do these meetings commence?”

“Most evenings around eight in the evening.”

Electra could easily imagine ladies and gentlemen crowding the space, eager to mingle and seek pairings.

“Miss Mahoney mentioned that Mrs. Demeter Devlin lived here.”

Mrs. Earnsley nodded. “She was our most recent lodger, yes, but she has not been back in several days. It is odd.”

“When was the last day you saw her?”

The lady tipped her head back and peered at the ceiling, as if searching her memory. “The morning of the 29th of July, I believe. I recall the weather was frightful the previous day, and I urged her to take one of the better umbrellas with her in case the rain returned.”

Gideon stiffened.

That was the day after Percival Pennington’s murder.

“When she departed,” Gideon asked, “did she take her belongings?”

Mrs. Earnsley let out a shaky breath. “She did not, Inspector, and that’s what’s caused Miss Mahoney such worry.”

Electra swept her gaze up toward the townhouse’s staircase. Gideon seemed to intuit her thoughts.

“May we see her room?” he asked.

At this, Mrs. Earnsley frowned. “I do not feel comfortable allowing you to do so without Miss Mahoney here.”

“Do you have any other staff in the house?” he asked.

“Yes, Inspector. Cook and our maid, Sally.”

“We could have one of them send for Miss Mahoney,” Gideon suggested. “I’m sure she would give her permission readily, since we’ve just come from speaking to her.”

Mrs. Earnsley lifted her gaze to Electra, as if seeking her acknowledgment of that statement.

“We have departed Charlotte Street and came straight here, Mrs. Earnsley.”

The housekeeper relented soon after. “Her room is at the top of the stairs. First door on the left. It’s locked.”

Mrs. Earnsley lifted a ring of keys attached to the belt on her apron, slipping one free. “I’ll take you up.”

The lady led them up the stairs, stiff backed, as if she regretted every step. At the door, she slipped a key inside and twisted the lock, then stood aside so that they could enter.

Immediately, Electra recognized the scent. Violet water. She had smelled the scent the day she’d met Mrs. Jane Wilson. It was a distinctive and not unappealing scent, and it permeated the simply furnished room.

Jane Wilson. Demeter Devlin. Were they one and the same person?

When she heard Mrs. Earnsley’s footsteps retreat back toward the stairwell, she brushed her hand against Gideon’s coat sleeve to get his attention.

“Gideon, I think…perhaps Mrs. Wilson does not exist.”

His brows drew into a perplexed frown.

“The scent in the room is the same that Mrs. Wilson wore.”