"I don't know, miss."
"Can we come in?" the taller of the two asked, and I looked at them with wide, innocent eyes. They both looked pretty ordinary, and neither had that particular look that I'd learned to associate with 'special' cops.
I tried to look embarrassed and shy. "Couldn't we go down to the parlor?"
One of the men stifled a laugh. The other made no reaction. "I'm sorry, no. May we come in?"
The hostess stared at the two of them, suddenly concerned.
I breathed out heavily. "I suppose." I turned away and left the door open.
There's a good reason that I meet any guests in the downstairs parlor. My bathroom is almost bigger than my bedroom. The bed fills all of one end of the room, and I skip around the end of it to get to the balcony. No room for a chair. I sniffed surreptitiously, but I couldn't smell any difference in the room.
I motioned both of them to the bed while I leaned against the wall. The one that laughed--dark hair, dark tired eyes and unshined shoes--looked uncomfortable. The other still didn't show any emotion. His shoes were shined to a high gloss, but the edges of his uniform coat were frayed.
I left the door open, a tacit invitation to the landlady to snoop.
The expressionless one pushed the door shut with his foot and I promptly opened it again, glaring.
He let it go.
Part 6
If you want to start at the beginning: Wyre-Rat episode 1
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