The Man Upon the Stair by Gary Inbinder

Author:Gary Inbinder [Inbinder, Gary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pegasus Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Delphine and Apolline passed through the spacious lobby that provided access to the two-tiered, horseshoe-shaped promenade. Several eyes turned toward them in recognition, prompting a round of applause and cheers for a star of the café concerts. Delphine smiled and waved to her admirers; her celebrity distinguished her from the common whores who plied their trade at the Folies Bergère. As for Apolline, she savored the moment as though association with a popular entertainer had elevated her status in the demimonde.

Hundreds of electric bulbs glimmered through a cloud of tobacco smoke, their yellow incandescence dimmed like the lights of an ocean liner steaming in a fog. Through the haze one could make out the red-and-gold-painted, mirror-lined arcade, the artificial garden and spouting, alabaster fountain, the marble-topped bars stocked with bottles of liquor and champagne and bowls of fruit, the women serving drinks to a thirsty crowd, the clientele lounging on chairs and couches as they ogled the perambulating prostitutes.

One inhaled a miasma of countless cigars and cigarettes interfused with the odor of a confined multitude reeking of perfume, cologne, pomade, and sweat. A band blared out a popular tune loud enough to overtop a constant murmuring punctuated by laughter, drunken outbursts, and an occasional scream.

As they approached M. Orlovsky’s private box, Delphine and Apolline glimpsed the stage act, a scantily clad young woman swinging from a trapeze high above a gaggle of clowns who gestured suggestively at her deftly exposed anatomy.

The spymaster ignored both the performance and Aurore’s desperate attempts to amuse him. His dark eyes darted impatiently, scanning the perimeter. When he spotted Delphine and Apolline, his rouged lips twitched upward, forming a twisted smile. He rose from his chair and prepared to greet his honored guest.

“Good evening, Mlle Lacroix. How kind of you to join us.” He bowed formally, then stepped forward to escort Delphine into the loge.

Aurore dashed ahead to embrace her friend and kissed her on the lips. “Thank you, Delphine,” she murmured. “We’re so happy you could come. Monsieur has ordered the finest champagne, in your honor.”

Orlovsky glared at Aurore but said nothing. He smiled and helped Delphine to a chair. “Please be seated, Mademoiselle. I’m at your service. Would you care for something in particular? Whatever delicacies the house can provide are yours for the asking.”

“Whatever you’re drinking is fine with me, M. Orlovsky.”

Orlovsky snapped his fingers and gestured to a waiter. The man came at once.

“The Moët et Chandon 1878, if you please,” Orlovsky said. As the waiter rushed off to fetch the wine, Orlovsky reached into his breast pocket and produced a gold cigarette case. “Will you try one of these, Mademoiselle? They’re Turkish.”

Delphine declined courteously. Knowing his tastes, she suspected the cigarettes contained opium. “No thank you, Monsieur. I prefer my own blend.”

“Ah yes, Mademoiselle. I’ve heard of ‘Delphine.’ They’ve become popular with the ladies—and some of the gentlemen, too.”

Delphine ignored Orlovsky’s sly reference to the “ladies” and “gentlemen” of her former profession. She took a silver case from her purse and retrieved a cigarette.

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