Fighting revulsion at his touch, she was dragged into the small office. Here she and Muriel had talked of families. Muriel had cried about her own twin brother as Rose had told her about Jerram.

“We won’t be disturbed.” He turned the Vivaldi tape off and made her sit down. “Let’s have a nice chat. Want some tea? No, don’t want you upchucking your guts all over the place. I’ve been watching you, Rose. I found out all about you from … her.” He jerked his head toward the dressing room. “I think you understand me, Rose. You’re smarter than the others.” He paused. “Why are you looking at your watch?”

She had been about to pretend that her mother was picking her up but realized he wouldn’t believe it would be so soon.

“Someone is coming here,” she said, getting a better idea, forcing her voice to stop quaking.

“No one is coming.”

“Oh, yes. I’m auditioning today, for a company in New York. The director is coming to see me. He should be here any minute.” She checked her watch again.

He smiled, and it was like watching an oil slick spread across the surface of a scummy sea. The smile leaked across his skin, turning his face into an evil clown’s head. “A man from New York?”

Rose nodded, trying to look positive.

He sneered. “I’m the man from New York. Didn’t you figure that out? Iver Westa, once a big name in dance.” He jumped up and spun around in the small space, Muriel’s cloak flying out like wings. “Pas de bourree? Entrechat? I still have connections. Still useful. She told me all about you. Thought you could go places. Asked me to do her a favor.” He smiled wickedly. “I bet that stuck in her craw! She ran away from me. Thought she could hide in this silly town. She never knew I was always close by; she thought I was still in New York.” He looked smug. “I’m clever, a good watcher. Lived a double life. Pretended I was being a good boy. Told her I wanted to make up with her. Gave her my Christmas present. Told her how wrong she was about me.” He sighed. “I think in the end, she saw the light.”

Abruptly he sat down again and put his face close to Rose. “I have a present for you, too.” He smelled of Muriel’s perfume, but his breath was sour. She pulled back before she could stop herself.

He frowned. “Don’t you want to see it?” The oil slick smile came back. “Of course you do.”

He put his hand inside the cloak. What was he going to show her? Slowly he drew it out again. There, as glittery and keen as his eyes, was a big chefs knife.

“Blood is beautiful, don’t you think?”

“No!”

“Scared now?”