leave town.” 76
CATT FORD
I nodded, and Celestine bowed her head, as if commiserating with Lily.
“My daughter—my beautiful daughter—was born in 1930. And when I got my figure back, which was very quickly, I resolved to come back here, reclaim my place on stage, and raise her with all the good things that money could buy,” Lily said reminiscently. Then her voice crackled with anger. “But I was not going to let her suffer the stigma of illegitimacy. No one was going to call my darling girl a bastard!
“She was such a beautiful baby. I knew one day she would be a bigger star than I could ever be, so I gave her a name that was destined for success. Marguerite Saint-Ville.” Her voice lingered over each syllable, and I guessed that it made her happy to choose a classy stage name for her daughter. I wondered if she’d ever thought that maybe her daughter might not want to follow in her footsteps. But maybe she knew her daughter as well as she thought; after all, she did say Marguerite wanted to be a singer.
“We made believe that she was the daughter of a relative.” Lily looked at Celestine, who nodded.
“Did… Marguerite know she was your daughter?”
“Oh yes, but we pretended that an evil wizard had put a spell on us and if we ever mentioned it outside this house, something terrible would happen.” Lily’s lips quivered again. “And something did.”
“Because she told someone?”
“No, I’m sure she never did. When she was sixteen, she understood, she saw through the fairytale. She rebelled and ran away.” Lily shrugged. “I didn’t blame her. I’d run away myself, and she had…
my spirit.”
She put her fingertips on the close-up of Marguerite, tracing the soft curve of the girl’s cheek. “I couldn’t find her myself, so I had to call upon the help of… a friend. I went to see her, begged her to come back. She refused. In the end, we compromised. I found her an apartment and a job. She didn’t want it known that I was her… mentor.
Wanted to make it on her own.”
“Did she find out that you got her the job?” Lily White, Rose Red: Grey Randall, Private Dick Casefile #1
77
“Yes, eventually. She was very angry, but she said nothing about running away again,” Lily said. “But two days later, she was gone, and I thought it was just a repeat of the first time. I wasn’t worried at first.
Eventually, I’d find her again… and then—the police came—to ask if I knew her. They told me she was dead.”
We sat in silence for a while. I felt drained, wondering what I would have done if Lily had told me all this the day she walked into my office. It felt like years ago, but it was only yesterday.
“Who’s your friend, the one who found her?” Lily shook her head, making her earrings flash in the light. “You don’t need that. I’ll tell you if it becomes pertinent, but he would never—”
“So you’ve ruled him out based on no evidence other than your feelings?” I asked harshly.
“He has an alibi.”
“Sometimes alibis are made to be broken.”
I wouldn’t have thought that Lily had it in her at that point, but she fluttered her lashes coquettishly. “ I’m his alibi.” She preened a little, proud that her appeal had not diminished. “You said these shots were for publicity,” she said, getting back down to business.
“That’s right.”
“Where was she working?”
All at once, I realized that telling Lily that her daughter was working at a queer club could lead to all sorts of ramifications for me.
But I had to remember that this was just a job like any other. A private dick has to chase the clues, no matter where they lead him. “It’s a small private club. Over in the train yard behind the station.”
“And who hired her?”
“Phil Martin, or so I’ve been told.”
“You haven’t spoken to him, questioned him—”
“I’ve been following other leads,” I said. I didn’t want to let her know that I had been doing
CATT FORD
I nodded, and Celestine bowed her head, as if commiserating with Lily.
“My daughter—my beautiful daughter—was born in 1930. And when I got my figure back, which was very quickly, I resolved to come back here, reclaim my place on stage, and raise her with all the good things that money could buy,” Lily said reminiscently. Then her voice crackled with anger. “But I was not going to let her suffer the stigma of illegitimacy. No one was going to call my darling girl a bastard!
“She was such a beautiful baby. I knew one day she would be a bigger star than I could ever be, so I gave her a name that was destined for success. Marguerite Saint-Ville.” Her voice lingered over each syllable, and I guessed that it made her happy to choose a classy stage name for her daughter. I wondered if she’d ever thought that maybe her daughter might not want to follow in her footsteps. But maybe she knew her daughter as well as she thought; after all, she did say Marguerite wanted to be a singer.
“We made believe that she was the daughter of a relative.” Lily looked at Celestine, who nodded.
“Did… Marguerite know she was your daughter?”
“Oh yes, but we pretended that an evil wizard had put a spell on us and if we ever mentioned it outside this house, something terrible would happen.” Lily’s lips quivered again. “And something did.”
“Because she told someone?”
“No, I’m sure she never did. When she was sixteen, she understood, she saw through the fairytale. She rebelled and ran away.” Lily shrugged. “I didn’t blame her. I’d run away myself, and she had…
my spirit.”
She put her fingertips on the close-up of Marguerite, tracing the soft curve of the girl’s cheek. “I couldn’t find her myself, so I had to call upon the help of… a friend. I went to see her, begged her to come back. She refused. In the end, we compromised. I found her an apartment and a job. She didn’t want it known that I was her… mentor.
Wanted to make it on her own.”
“Did she find out that you got her the job?” Lily White, Rose Red: Grey Randall, Private Dick Casefile #1
77
“Yes, eventually. She was very angry, but she said nothing about running away again,” Lily said. “But two days later, she was gone, and I thought it was just a repeat of the first time. I wasn’t worried at first.
Eventually, I’d find her again… and then—the police came—to ask if I knew her. They told me she was dead.”
We sat in silence for a while. I felt drained, wondering what I would have done if Lily had told me all this the day she walked into my office. It felt like years ago, but it was only yesterday.
“Who’s your friend, the one who found her?” Lily shook her head, making her earrings flash in the light. “You don’t need that. I’ll tell you if it becomes pertinent, but he would never—”
“So you’ve ruled him out based on no evidence other than your feelings?” I asked harshly.
“He has an alibi.”
“Sometimes alibis are made to be broken.”
I wouldn’t have thought that Lily had it in her at that point, but she fluttered her lashes coquettishly. “ I’m his alibi.” She preened a little, proud that her appeal had not diminished. “You said these shots were for publicity,” she said, getting back down to business.
“That’s right.”
“Where was she working?”
All at once, I realized that telling Lily that her daughter was working at a queer club could lead to all sorts of ramifications for me.
But I had to remember that this was just a job like any other. A private dick has to chase the clues, no matter where they lead him. “It’s a small private club. Over in the train yard behind the station.”
“And who hired her?”
“Phil Martin, or so I’ve been told.”
“You haven’t spoken to him, questioned him—”
“I’ve been following other leads,” I said. I didn’t want to let her know that I had been doing
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