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Tom, peering into the hollows of Mrs. Kirby’s left ear. “I keep thinking of the time frame.”
“Spell it out for me,” said Trevor, pencil in hand.
“You start, Emma,” Tom said, absently, turning the corpse’s head to inspect her other ear.
“My lesson with Konstantin concluded at precisely five,” Emma said, folding the pants of the
costume as she spoke. “I know, because we heard the chapel bells strike. He told me I was his last
private lesson of the day but that I should get some rest and have something to eat, for the group
rehearsals would begin at seven. At the time he and I parted company, there was no body wrapped up
in the flag hanging above the pirate ship. I am certain because he was scolding me to look upward as
we waltzed, so I was paying particular attention to the top of the room. There are sets located on the
second level of the stage, what they call the performers’ level, and one of them was this ship. I assure
you that during the time I was dancing, the flag at the top of the mast was furled neatly.”
“But then you closed your eyes,” Tom said.
“Closed your eyes?” Rayley inquired, looking at Emma over his glasses. Judging by the
number of books in the box, Mrs. Kirby had evidently been a great reader. Rayley was shaking them,
one volume at a time, but so far nothing had fluttered out onto the floor.
How like Tom to say something both so embarrassing and so off the point, Emma thought, and
she hastened to explain. “It hardly matters, but my dance instructor suggested that I close my eyes
while we were waltzing so that I might be better able to follow. But they remained so for only a
minute or two. Certainly if someone had hauled a dead body by rope to the top of the ceiling I would
have heard the commotion and opened my eyes.”
“I doubt the body was pulled up from the floor,” Rayley said, mercifully not becoming
distracted by the idea of Emma waltzing with her eyes closed. “More likely lowered from the
balcony, I would guess.”
“Either way, Konstantin and I would have heard it.”
“You waltzed without music?” Trevor asked.
“Yes, he counted the beat. That’s the way practicing often is,” Emma said with authority, as if
she had been taking formal dance instruction all her life. “But the point is that when I stepped out of
the ballroom at a few minutes after five there was no dead body in that flag. Once I exited into the
hall, I promptly met Tom, who was waiting there for Mrs. Kirby and wondering why she might be
running late for their appointment.”