abberline1


Chapter One


Lily rarely stirred herself before noon, well really what was the point? The morning air was so cold and, with or without a warm body under the covers with her, it was better to dream of the soft melting pastries that one might have in ones mouth than to face the reality of actually going to get them. Lily was good at fantasy, and this particular morning she really hadn’t wanted to see the grey pretender to the sun that knocked grimly on her Paris-smoked window. So instead, she had refused to open her eyes until the hubbub on the stairs outside could no longer be ignored. In truth though, she was worried. Even after she had returned to the boarding house, which was just before the first bird made a valiant attempt to signal the dawn, there had been no sign of Aimee. Lily had even brought home an extra bottle of wine especially for her from the Red Parrot, well she would have needed something to take the taste of the Comte de Richelieu away, but it still stood but half drunk on the dresser, their familiar warm cuddles missing for once. She reluctantly pulled herself up out of the sheets, a shiver through her bones at the temperature of the water in the blue porcelain bowl on the dresser, and sighed at the hair which seemed determined to make a fool of her.

No one had seen Aimee, none of the other girls nor Madame downstairs, but despite her growing disquiet Lily could do nothing but get through her day, resolving that should Aimee not appear for tonight’s show then the comte would feel the sharp of her own tongue, whether his pale wife was sitting at his side or not.

At last the evening came and Lily’s second home, the backstage of the Moulin Rouge, bustled with the familiar sights and sounds of too many women in one place, a cacophony of sound and colour that made her smile. No matter how tired she was, the minutes before the curtain went up always had her heart beating fast, a slightly sick feeling in her stomach, but a deep smile in her very being. She continued to brush her cheeks with powder, watching her own face change in the mirror into something else far away from the drabness of the street. These, it was true, hardly being the discerning audience of the opera, but all the same, the Can Can was about “being” and at least for those moments when they were flashing their skirts and their boots, heads held high and proud of being women, it was an expression of that spirit that all else was conspiring to squash.

She pouted her lips and ran a finger of red all over them, parting her lips to see the contrast of rouge and white. Stepping back from the mirror a little she held her head at an angle, pulling some curls down to fall on her neck; Lily was never one to pin her hair too tight. Ah, they were never going to be “ladies” anyhow, and from what she had seen on the sour unhappy faces in the audience, the wives of the men who came to feel themselves—Lily laughed at her own thought process—men who came to feel themselves rise at the sight of women dancing, well their wives might have all manner of sparkle round their necks but none inside their hearts. With a sigh, she tugged on the laces of her boots and pulled her dress a little further down her pale shoulders. She would dance for herself if for nothing else.

With that Lily stepped into the hallway that led to the heavy curtains that enveloped the stage. The first dance of the night and a favourite with the audience of men was the Quadrille, threads of an older dance that Lily had made her own. She reveled in the opportunity to both tease and show the skill she was renowned for, bending backwards to offer more of her curves, but all the time keeping the dance encased in a square of four, still as yet contained in formality but with a hint of the unruliness to come. Tonight she threw herself into it, so that the hint was more of a promise, the swirl and brush of her skirts just a little bit more daring, and her chin a little higher while the loud clamour of the trombones and cornets filled the hall. By the end there was only a cloud of white lace with just the taste of pink skin as her petticoats seemed to demand to keep moving despite the stamp of her heels and Lily’s curls having a revolution all of their own. Her breasts heaving with her panting breath and just a trace of moisture on her skin, Lily bowed with a quick wink before running off stage.

The wide smile fell from her face her as she ran back behind the curtain to see Monsieur Mauriac, the House Manager, pointing in her direction, his as yet indistinct words directed into the face of a man she couldn’t yet see since his back was to her. No doubt he had enjoyed an unsurpassed view of the Quadrille from such close quarters; indeed he very nearly made up a quintet.

“This is Lily, Monsieur Inspector, but before you ask your questions, I have a few of my own, or maybe they are the same, in which case, I will save you the trouble of hearing the same excuses twice, and you can take your notebook elsewhere.”

Lily could feel the hairs on the back of her neck begin to prickle, rising in the rapidly cooling air around her—a copper, that was all she needed. She quickly glanced around for a second,  meaning to gauge the method by which she might secure a painless exit from whatever it was that he wanted. Lily had honed that particular talent—how to judge what a man wanted in a breath—and she was seldom wrong.

Well she intended to glance for a second, but it might have been two or three. The man was looking directly at her, anticipating where her face was going to be before she turned her head as if he meant to catch her. She caught the slightest flicker of his eyes down to where the sweat was now wet in her cleavage and sighed, “Ah oui,” she had it now, as if it were to be any different.

“Lily, the Inspector here wants to know where it is that we might find Aimee Blanchard. Whatever his reasons, which he has failed to divulge,” Mauriac’s contempt was barely below the surface of his sneer, “they will of course be of less import than the knowledge that she will no longer have a job if she fails to appear within the very next hour.” If the Mauriac had picked a worse way to challenge all that Lily held dear, he probably would have been in his grave. Lily burst into a torrent of expletives about how he could sack her too, and she would see what the organisation for women dancers would say about it, though in truth she wasn’t even sure there was one, and how she, Lily, would refuse to dance if he even thought of stopping Aimee’s wages never mind sacking her, and that if anyone knew where Aimee was it would be that snake the Comte de Richelieu who would be answering to her any minute now. There was a stunned silence for a moment before the Inspector stepped up beside her, his hand resting on the bare skin of her arm.

“It seems to me, Monsieur, that we both have our answer,” a nod to Lily, “and a very full and colourful one, wouldn’t you say? Now if I may indulge your kindness, I will need to question Lily for myself.” It didn’t seem to be a request. Lily was determined not to let those angry trickles at the corners of her eyes descend her cheeks and turned round to face him. There was to be no end it seemed, caught between the sort of manager who only cared that the chorus line was full and now a copper. Jesus, what she wouldn’t give to be almost anywhere else.

“Is there somewhere we can go?”

Lily took a long slow look at the policeman in front of her, who, with his hair falling across dark brown eyes and almost touching his cheek, had the look of a slightly ill-groomed dog, pedigree and mongrel all mixed up, and one that had been allowed to run free. No amount of smart collars or ties could make it otherwise. “To talk?” Oh, and he had a smile, when he did, even when it was just in the purse of those lips, that made her want to ruffle his hair some more. It took just a moment before she remembered who this curious man with the even more curious French accent was, “If you insist, Inspector.” With a nod he followed her down the lamp-lit corridors to the sewing room where, at the very least, there was quiet.

Once seated on an enormous roll of heavy red silk Lily looked expectantly at his face, all soft in the dark. “If you want me to tell you where she is, I can only say that she left with the Comte de Richelieu last night. That’s common knowledge, any one of the girls will tell you that. I have not seen her since.”

“But you do know her well? The Madame told me she is often to be found in your company in the early hours.” If he was trying to unseat Lily it wasn’t going to work. He felt her stiffen from where he sat on blue damask, and he retreated quickly. “I simply thought you might have some clues as to what she would do, Lily, where she would go. Your business is your own. If I can be candid…” he was looking straight at her now and she wondered if he was ever anything else, “she is accused of stealing a Fabergé egg.”

Now that had the effect he expected, unequivocal denial in her eyes and a panic that was already a mile ahead; cells, court appearances, and worse already in her mind. “Where is she? The bastard! He is lying!” Lily was on her way to standing before his hand caught her.

“I don’t know yet…sit Lily…please.” Fred Abberline leaned back against the wall to reach into his waistcoat, his fingers emerging with a small silver flask, the metal and its contents warmed by his body. Small squeaks were all that could be heard as he unscrewed the top and held it out for her.

Lily frowned as she took a large swig, the warmth of his body easing the licquor’s passage down her throat while she listened to the details he wanted her to know. Details about how he had visited the Comte and Comtesse de Richelieu that very day and heard how Mademoiselle Blanchard had been left alone in the parlour for only one minute while they went to instruct the maid in the fetching of food, warm clothes, and a small purse for the unfortunate who had talked her way into their goodwill at the Moulin Rouge, only to find her gone on their return along with the egg.

They sat in silence for some minutes before Lily spoke, an edge to her voice that was pure white anger, “I won’t speak for myself, Inspector, but she is no thief. I swear to you on my mother’s grave. And she weren’t begging from the comte neither, he paid for her!” Despite herself her eyes were filling up, and it was a cascade of thoughts that was as dizzying as Lily herself, “Merde...I watched her walk away, after he asked for her especially to join him in the box. I would put money on it that she never even heard of a Fabergé egg, and if she had, she would have thought they were ones you could crack to have the richest breakfast ever.” She stopped just for a second to take a breath. “Don’t tell me you believe that bloody rat! Aimee has nowhere to go except here, Monsieur. If you were doing your job, you would be out there looking for her! If he has hurt her, I will see him in hell!” He wasn’t answering, nor asking neither. In his many years as a copper he had never seen a less likely thief, but the reasons he had been assigned this case were becoming clearer even in the gloom of the sewing room.

A loud bang on the door made them both jump, for a moment united in that same panic of having done something wrong, and Lily handed the flask back to him with a dismissive wave. “I have to go or Monsieur Mauriac will have my wages too.” He felt himself almost drowning in a surf of petticoats and then she was gone, the door swinging closed with a dull thunk.

In fact, if she had the first idea where to even begin to look for Aimee, she would have told Mauriac which place exactly he could stick his wages in and have run out into the cold herself. But she did not. Aimee had arrived at the Moulin Rouge as had so many, penniless and eager to leave a past behind, not dwell on it. They had spoken a little of their childhoods, but the Moulin Rouge and Montmartre was their world now and there seemed little outside of it to these women who lived and breathed greasepaint and dancing. Even Gabrielle for once had no bright ideas. Before the Inspector left the building the news was in every corner—Aimee had been kidnapped or worse.

Lily hid herself a little at the back of the troupe as she danced, despite the glare of Monsieur Mauriac. She needed to think, to find ways to explain to herself why she had ignored her own intuition and waved Aimee goodbye, but, as she dug deeper and deeper into that precise well, she could only curse herself.

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