Chapter 5: The Crystal Room

The Crystal Room at the Marlowe had two hundred round tables.

It had a stage with a silver banner.

Blown-glass lamps hung from the ceiling and made everybody look better than they were.

I stood at the top of the staircase for one full breath.

My hand was on Silvio Ranieri's forearm.

The green silk moved when I moved.

I had cut the bodice on the bias so it would hug, not hide.

I had sewn the corset back myself, with forty-two hooks.

Silvio looked down at me once, and then he looked out at the room.

"Ready?" he said.

"You don't have to say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm a bet you're making."

He was quiet for a second.

Then he said, low enough that only I could hear, "You're the only thing I'm not betting on tonight."

We walked down the steps.

Heads turned in a wave that started at the bar and rolled across the tables.

I heard a woman say, "Is that the cake?"

Another woman said, "Oh, God, it's the Keogh girl."

I kept walking.

The Ventnor table was near the front, under the silver banner.

Joyce Tully was already standing at it.

She wore a cream sheath and a rope of pearls.

Her hand rested on the back of Braden's chair.

Braden saw me and went white, then red.

Then he grinned, the way he did when he wanted people to think he was in on something.

Joyce's voice carried across the room, the way it always did.