Brenda Joyce - [Francesca Cahill 05] Read Online Free Page A

stammered, still reeling.
    “What?”
    “Grace Conway . . . the actress . . . I met her once . . . Bragg! She is my brother’s mistress!”

CHAPTER
TWO
    T UESDAY , F EBRUARY 18, 1902—11:00 P.M.
    B RAGG PULLED HER ASIDE . “That is Grace Conway?”
    “I am certain!” Francesca cried, beginning to shake. Her mind sped and raced. Her brother, Evan, was handsome, charming, and, until recently, quite the catch. That is, until recently, he had been their father’s sole male heir. But the other day he had been disowned, due to his refusal to go through with his engagement to Sarah Channing, whom he neither loved nor liked. He had been forced into the engagement in the first place, with Andrew refusing to pay his gambling debts otherwise. He and Andrew had had the worst row, with Evan announcing that he was quitting the company and moving out. Unfortunately, the next day he had been badly beaten in what he claimed to have been a barroom brawl.
    Evan had been involved with the beautiful actress for some time, and Francesca had run into them once on Broadway. Miss Conway was not a woman one would ever forget. She was beautiful and she had a presence about her thatdrew all attention. This was, most definitely, her.
    “This is Melinda Neville’s apartment. Miss Conway has no personal papers or calling cards on her. Wait here, Francesca,” Bragg said firmly, and he hadn’t even finished speaking before he was through the flat’s front door.
    Francesca had to sit down, but there was nowhere to do so other than the sofa, and somehow the entire room felt terribly tainted now. She did not want to touch anything. How could this be happening?
    “I seen her once, in Vaudeville!” Joel cried in a hushed whisper. “With me mom and Paddy and Matt. It is her, isn’t it? God’s arse! Someone done stiffed Grace Conway!”
    It was hard to breathe. Poor Evan! Of course, he hadn’t been that involved with Grace Conway in these last few weeks, as he had recently become rather smitten with Sarah’s cousin the widowed countess Bartolla Benevente. Maybe Grace wasn’t even his mistress anymore. Francesca hugged herself, and she couldn’t help hoping their affair was over before Grace’s death. And poor Miss Conway! She closed her eyes. First Sarah Channing, Evan’s fiancée, and now his mistress.
    Bragg returned with a big, burly man with heavy sideburns and a beard. He was middle-aged and extremely distressed. “Please, Mr. Bennett, this is extremely important. You must take a close look at the victim.”
    “I don’t know if I can.” Mr. Bennett was on the verge of tears.
    “Of course you can,” Bragg said gently, keeping a firm grip on the heavyset gentleman and leading him around to where Francesca had so recently been standing.
    Bennett cried out, “Good God! That’s not Miss Neville! That is our neighbor, Miss Conway! She lives across the hall in Number Four!” he exclaimed.
    “Thank you,” Bragg said gravely. “Do you have any idea of when Miss Neville will return?”
    Bennett shook his head, his loose jowls flapping.
    “You may go,” Bragg said, and Bennett almost ran from the apartment as if he might be the killer’s next target.
    Francesca stood up. “Perhaps Miss Conway saw the door open, as did Mr. Bennett. Perhaps she surprised the assailant, who then murdered her.”
    “Those are my first thoughts, exactly.” Bragg was grim. His face was hard. He was reflective now. “Your brother’s fiancée had her studio vandalized a week ago. Yesterday your brother was in a serious brawl. How is he, by the way?”
    “He is in pain, on laudanum, and in bed. He has a concussion, two broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and, as of last night, a black eye.” Francesca was afraid. She knew where Bragg led. “First Miss Channing, then Evan’s injuries, and now Miss Conway. Bragg, Evan does not brawl.”
    “He said he was in a barroom brawl, did he not?”
    “I haven’t been able to speak to him, but I don’t believe