As if Madame Helena would let that detail slip her mind. “Third.” Vega agreed. They had maybe another song or two of the ordinary dancing, then they’d segue into the individual performers again. “Lucella wanted the last spot, and I didn’t feel like arguing with her about it.” She was the other singer at the moment, and certain that there was some trick that would mean people remembered her better than Vega.
“I do appreciate that you’re not grasping about it.” Madame Helena said it amiably. “Lucella’s rubbed a few others the wrong way.” That was a neutral statement, but being given the information certainly wasn’t neutral. “I’ll send your party back once you’re done. You can talk until we lock up.” It would give a couple of hours if they needed it.
“Thank you.” Vega ducked her chin. “I’m sorry to bring a bit of trouble.”
“You didn’t. The trouble brought himself, and I’m sure he ought to know better. But I’ll see if I can find out anything else. If so, I’ll let you know.” She waved her hand, a little dismissal. Vega went back down to her dressing room to freshen up, do a few vocal exercises, and prepare for the last set of her evening. It went well enough, though she felt it wasn’t her best performance. Fortunately, they’d already agreed on the mood and songs. This was a series of jazz numbers of Albion itself, with some clever and demanding puns on various bits of magic. It got a reliable laugh, and it sounded good without being too much of a strain.
Seven minutes after she’d made it back to her dressing room, there was a tidy knock on the door. “Miss Vega? Your party.”
“Please come in.” Knowing they’d be coming, she’d quickly wriggled out of her performance dress and into something comfortable and not nearly as decorative. Then she’d pulled one of her more voluminous and slightly gaudy wraps over it. People had expectations. The door opened, and Farran came in, stepping to one side, followed by his friends.
The woman was perhaps a little older than Farran, and rather lovely in feature. Seeing her close up, Vega was more certain the brother and sister were also Cousins, though of a more distant generation than Vega herself. They had that edge of vitality that sometimes made Cousins a hair more eye-catching, which Vega certainly had herself. Now she nodded, glancing at Farran.
“Anthony Sturgis, Tony. My best friend since Schola. And his slightly older sister, Maddie. They’ve several others.” Farran closed the door, then said, “Maddie has some new information for us. We didn’t want to discuss it out among everyone.”
“Oh!” Vega shook herself out a little. “There’s wine here, or if you want something else. We’ve a bit of time. I’m done for the night, though they’ll want to lock up eventually. An hour or so. Please, sit.” The two siblings took the small sofa, leaving Farran one ottoman, and Vega for the chair.
“That is not a man I would want anywhere near me. And he’s a lousy dancer. Stepped on my feet twice, though I admit he was a bit distracted. Farran’s much better. You should dance with him when you get a chance.” Maddie’s commentary came out like a burbling stream, and with several points that Vega wanted to think about later. Including the fact that Vandermeer was not the sort of smooth dancer she’d expected from him. Or at least not with Maddie. “There’s something definitely off about him.”
“What sort of off?” Tony asked, in the sort of tone that Vega knew from her cousins, someone patiently getting someone to explain something obvious to them. Well-worn. He added, “Maddie’s a researcher, usually working with a client for a few months on some project. She’s met rather a wide selection of slightly creepy academics.”
“This was different.” Maddie sounded insistent, and she leaned forward, elbows on her knees. Vega rather liked the determination. “I think he is looking for something. That sort of looking, maybe more active sorts. Farran didn’t explain what he’s helping you with, other than that it’s some object, and because it’s him, some sort of art object. I don’t think Vandermeer is an art historian. And while he tried to come off like a businessman, I don’t think that’s it, either.”
“Why?” Tony asked before Vega had to figure out how to word it. “Explain yourself, please.”
“He’s American, yes?” Vega nodded. She could clarify in a minute. “There might be differences in terms. But he didn’t speak like a businessman. More like there was a face he put on.”
“We believe he used an illusion to get into the club. The owner had taken some precautions,” Vega offered. “Previously, he’s said he was American, and he sounds like an American.”
Farran nodded, focusing directly on Vega. “Look, I can ask Vivian to do some more research and see what she can find out. But I think we can assume he’s quite likely interested in whatever you’re looking for. Or something closely related. And that’s a problem.”
“What about leading him on a bit of a false trail?” Tony suggested. “Go somewhere that’s not relevant.”
“It’s London,” Farran pointed out. “It’s actually rather hard not to trip over something the right period without meaning to. Even if it’s not actually the most relevant period, most places.”
“Well. Somewhere you’re pretty sure isn’t the right place. The Tower, maybe? You said you were focusing on earlier, didn’t you?” Tony was quick, Vega realised. Also, it was interesting to see the way he and Farran went at things. Like Farran had with her, but also a little different.
She cleared her throat. “I think the Tower might be a good idea. There would be plenty of people around. There are Beefeaters if he tries to do anything odd. A museum might do, but that’s more complicated. If we wanted something in a museum, we’d go about it differently.”
Farran met her eyes for a moment. “As you like. It’s Thursday night. Saturday, perhaps? It’s something we can do in an afternoon.”
“Saturday.” Vega nodded firmly. “We can sort out where to meet.” Then there was a knock on her door, and a murmur thatthe performances were done. “If you want to get out the stage door without too much fuss, this is a good time. Or if you could give me a little cover.”
“Of course.” Farran said. “Get you into a cab safely, your favourite cabbie.”
That, naturally enough, got Maddie asking how that worked, a series of interested questions about the process. It took up the time until Vega had changed stockings, into comfortable shoes, a jumper, and an ordinary coat. As the others went out, Farran paused, holding the door for her. “I’d love a chance to talk a bit, Saturday, too. When we get a bit of quiet?”
“Me as well.” She offered a smile, the best she could give him, to be reassuring. “And I like your friends.”
The smile she got back, now, that was worth having set aside her nerves about whether Farran might already have an interest in Maddie.
Chapter 26
MARCH 17TH AT THE TOWER OF LONDON
Saturday at noon was, of course, a relatively popular time to visit the Tower of London. It made it a less than optimal time for their visit, but needs must. It was cloudy, though maybe a drizzle would have kept the crowds down. Farran was waiting for Vega when she came down the path. “I’ve already bought our tickets.”
“Oh.” Vega cleared her throat. “You needn’t have? I owe you expenses, don’t I?”
