Free The Last Illusion by Rhys Bowen

think who I know in the sordid world of vaudeville. And who loves to gossip.” A wicked smile came over his face. “Yes, I can think of one or two people, although whether they’ll be in town at this time of year, I can’t tell you. But I’ll do my best.”
    “Thank you. I really appreciate it, Ryan. So about the costume. Where do you think I could find one in a hurry that would fit someone as large and healthy-looking as me?”
    “You wouldn’t find one anywhere, darling, but I do know a divine little dressmaker,” he said.
    “That may be the answer,” I said. “How do I find her?”
    “It’s a he,” he said. “I’ve no doubt he could make you one in a hurry, but he’s not cheap. I’ll take you to him if you like.”
    “This afternoon?”
    “Darling, I am not venturing forth looking like this. I do have my public to think of. Tomorrow, if all is well. Come round but not before ten. I am not at my best in the early morning.”
    I was obviously not going to get any more out of him, so I took my leave.

Seven
    I arrived home to find Daniel standing outside my house and hammering on my door. He had just turned away with a disgruntled expression when he caught sight of me entering Patchin Place.
    “Ah, there you are.” His face lit up. “I really must get you set up with a telephone, Molly. I never know whether I’ll find you at home or not.”
    “I do have a business to conduct,” I said. “I’m not yet the obedient little wife sitting home and waiting expectantly for her husband’s return.”
    “I can’t see you ever being the obedient little wife.” Daniel looked at me fondly. “In fact sometimes I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. But no time for chitchat, Molly. I’ve arranged to get off early this evening and I want us to go and see a house.”
    “What sort of house?” I asked cautiously.
    “It’s a simple brownstone on West Twenty-first,” he said, “but I think it might do very well for us.”
    “Oh,” I said, finally realizing what he was talking about. “For when we get married, you mean.”
    “Exactly.”
    “But Daniel, we haven’t even set a date yet.”
    “I know, but it’s not often that the right property becomes available, so one has to strike while the iron is hot.”
    I looked fondly around Patchin Place. “I’m sorry, but I have to meet a client this evening,” I said.
    “Send a message and cancel it.”
    “I can’t, Daniel. This is an important case for me with a new client. Besides,” I added, probably unwisely, “I really like my current address. Why can you not consider it for both of us? It’s close to headquarters, it’s quiet, and it’s big enough for the two of us.”
    “For the two of us, yes,” he said. “But we’ll need room for a servant, and then when the children start arriving . . .” He paused. “And I am the youngest police captain on the force. I need an address with some prestige.”
    “Then why not the new Ansonia building?” I said flippantly. “Or I gather that the Dakota is still very much in fashion. Or a mansion on Fifth Avenue would do at a pinch.”
    He frowned. “Not that much prestige,” he said. “I still only have a policeman’s salary.”
    I reached out and put my hand on his lapel. “Daniel, please let’s not rush into things.”
    “Are you getting cold feet?”
    “About marrying you? No, of course not. But you keep talking about children and servants and I’m not sure that I’m ready to give up my own life yet.”
    He scowled. “Molly, we’ve been through this a hundred times before. A man in my position can’t have a wife who works, especially not as a private detective. It simply isn’t done. It would go against our whole code of ethics. And I’d be a laughingstock—nasty little jokes about getting my wife to solve my cases for me.” He took my hands in his. “I make enough money, Molly. I can support you. We will live a good life together.”
    I stood there, looking up at him, not