Page 60 of Murder on Harley Street
“But you don’t think she was,” I finished for him.
He leaned against the side wall of the last townhouse in the row and crossed his arms. “Did you believe her?”
“Yes, but I feel as though my instincts can’t be trusted on this case, despite what you say. I would never have guessed that Mr. Lombardi had a predilection for men, for instance.” I pulled a face at the mention of his name. “Horrid man, but not for that particular reason. There are many other reasons, though.”
“You have that look in your eye, Cleo. I’d be worried if I were him.”
“He should be. I almost stabbed him in the thigh with a fork at dinner.”
Harry stilled. “What did he do?”
“Nothing a firm poke with a fork couldn’t resolve.”
He cupped the side of my face and his thumb gently stroked my cheek. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
I placed my hand over his and nodded.
I was about to speak when Rose Bolton rounded the corner. She sported a smug smile.
“Did Mrs. Iverson admit she’d do anything for her husband?” I asked.
“No. I don’t think she cares a whit for him. I pretended to empathize with her, telling her that as a woman whose husband had also been wrongly accused of a crime, I understood what she was going through. I mentioned my suffering,et cetera. She remained emotionless throughout.”
“Then why do you look like the cat that got the cream?”
“Because you may be the detective who solved all those murders, Miss Fox, butI’vediscovered something about Mrs. Iverson thatyoudid not.”
“What?”
“She’s a sapphic.”
I stared at her. Beside me, Harry shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“It means she likes to have relationships with women,” Rose went on.
“I know what it means.” I thought back through my encounters with Mrs. Iverson. It all began to click into place. My unease in her presence wasn’t because she was lying to us or because she was guilty—although she may very well be—it was because she’d taken a sapphic interest in me.
Rose Bolton’s lips tilted with her wry smile. “You’re blushing, Miss Fox. Does that mean shedidlook at you in a way that only men have before?”
“Her gazes did linger,” I admitted. “And she showed an uncommon interest in me.”
“She flirted with you,” Harry said flatly.
“I suppose it was flirting, but I didn’t realize it at the time. I thought she was playing some sort of strange game with her husband, encouraginghimto flirt with me.” It sounded ridiculous now that I thought about it, but it had never occurred to me thatshewas attracted to me.
Rose made a miffed sound through her nose. “Don’t consider yourself special. She flirted with me, too.”
“Did you let on that you guessed she was sapphic?” I asked.
She scoffed. “Of course not. I’m not a fool. Do you know, I’m not entirely sure she realized she was flirting.”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.
“I think she was admiring me without being aware of what she was doing.”
“So she didn’t intend anything to come of the admiration,” he clarified.
“I suppose not. Do you have any more tasks for me, Mr. Armitage?”
